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Having the guy starting to set up shop across the street from "Cherries" was bad enough, but having the neurotic little raver actually strutting into their shop and flap his cocky jaw at Connor, and even invite him to stop into their yet to be opened shop, was adding insult to injury.

So when he saw a familiar blond and rainbow figure cockily posting fliers advertising an upcoming opening, Tully had right about had it. He could have, Tully figured, at least kept them to his own damn side of the street.

Grinding his teeth, he dropped the apron he'd been about to put on onto the counter, and marched toward the door. His expression certainly didn't match the cheery jingle of the bells as he swung open the door and stepped outside.

"Hey! Feather-duster! Stick that thing somewhere else!" He demanded, holding the shop door open behind him. While Quinn, who's name he didn't know yet, might be technically allowed to hang his fliers, Tully saw it as tantamount to actually advertising for the competition inside the Cherries Jubilee itself, and he had every plan to tear down as many fliers as went up nearby. Especially since he was no longer sure that the feathers were being held in by glue.

Was this guy seriously a Gene Modder? Who did that kind of thing?

"...What?" Tully stared, his face going blank with shock as it filtered through his head that he had just initiated conversation with someone even more disruptive to his sense of sanity than Connor.

He had actually just met someone worse than Connor. His immediate thought was to make a rapid retreat back into 'Cherries' and lock the door, but that would also keep the customers out, which meant that the Cockatoo could follow him.

"What?? No!" He sputtered. Retreat never worked on Connor, he treated it as a form of encouragement. He had no reason to believe that this demented Bird-man was going to behave any differently, not when he was apparently quite open to dropping to his knees on the sidewalk and offer up suggestions that made Tully wish he could bleach them out of his brain, and maybe scrub it with a wire brush for good measure.

"Look, this is our shop you're posting advertisements in front of. I mean what are you going to do next, come in and try posting them on our bulletin board? I can't tell you not to open but Goddamn it, have some professional courtesy!"

He was crossing his fingers that this guy didn't interpret 'Professional Courtesy' as 'invitation to continue flirting'.

"And leave my chef the hell alone, or I'll..." He hesitated, angry because it was better than letting this guy scare him, which frankly, he did a bit. "I'll kick your a**!"

It didn't occur to him until after he said it that this guy might think he meant something other than that he didn't want this flashy Parrot trying to snatch Connor's cooking skills.

"We're -business- partners!" Tully pointed out, emphasizing the especially important business part. Business people. BUSINESS. No wonder he could never get a date, and somehow amazingly, Connor made things worse without even being here. How did he do that? It was like a super power. 'Make things worse for Tully'.

And the chest poking, and the SNIFFING? And the PETTING. That was beyond creepy.

He raised a hand to swat Quinn away hastily, wishing that his brain didn't have the unfortunate tendency to panic and go into a useless lock down when manhandled by, well... gay people. He'd switch cologne if he thought it would fix the problem... only he'd already tried that. Six times since high school, and it hadn't deterred Connor in the slightest.

"Hippie Cockatoo people." He accused, flustered and straightening his shirt. "Are not good for anyone's business."
An Adult Cafe? If that meant what he thought it meant coming out of this nut balls mouth, it had to be breaking zoning laws. Please god let it be breaking zoning laws.
"And the only place I tend to enjoy having you, or anyone associated with you... is far away from me!"

Try and make innuendo out of that you creepy little... he thought, then balked. Quinn probably could. Connor definitely would have been able to. So to cover for his latest perfect set up for comments he didn't want to hear, he edged past Quinn to vengefully rip down, and deliberately tear in two, the new cafe' flier.

Godsend? They called it the Godsend? That was a weird name, and he filed it under the list of 'insane things that have happened to complain to Con about'.

"Got it?"

"I am getting REALLY tired of people making that assumption!" Tully growled, angrily. "And you're the one trying to pet strangers in public! How's that fit into any level of appropriate behavior?"
Where the hell did this guy get off saying he was the one who was acting 'inappropriate'?? Bird brain was the one who'd been sniffing and petting and... brrr.

The shiver the younger man gave at the poster ripping made him feel vindictively better, with an edge of 'bully' that made him not quite enjoy it as much as he could have. He didn't quite get what made ripping a flier in half quite so impressive, it wasn't like he'd just ripped a phone book in half.

He debated, eying the young man, "Quinn" apparently, which would have been funny except that he couldn't think of a single good reason to make bad-tv show jokes about him. He also couldn't think of a good reason not to give the boy his name. It wasn't as though it would be hard for him to find out anyway.

"Tully." He responded, flatly, crumpling the halves of the ripped flier together. It was something to do with his hands that didn't include trying to make warding gestures. He wasn't sure there was a warding against huggy bird people anyway. "Jon Tully."

"Cute?I am not cute!" Tully sputtered, looking like he was going to develop a nervous tic in the next few minutes if he received one more affront to his sanity. "Use a copier next time." he recommended. It was probably stupid to give the little maniac the advice on how to make -more- fliers to spread everwhere, but the advice jumped out unbidden. What kind of genius hand drew every advertisement they hung anyway?

He watched with a raised eyebrow, not sure what to make of Quinn, or his bow, or the invitation. He certainly didn't feel any overwhelming urge to run in the second the shop opened, especially not after being pseudo-molested and sniffed by the Cockatoo. Granted it would probably be good to 'know the enemy' as it were, since Quinn had apparently stopped in and eaten his way through a large selection of the menu but...

But the touching and the sniffing.... He wasn't sure he could face that in exchange for learning what they were up against.

"Yeah you have fun with that." He grumbled, warily, stuffing the crumpled flier into his pocket and backing toward the door to the Cherries Jubilee, to get back to his own work.