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...eliciting the <span class="mu-b">pained shrieks of a little girl.</span>
It snaps its jaw shut and grinds its teeth, almost cracking them.
ANOMALY-B: UWAAAAAAA!
Z: G-good job, Oswald..?
P: H-huh?
Employee O2 turns back and his hand suddenly freezes before going for a third swing.
ANOMALY-A: <span class="mu-i">Enough.</span>
The tumor instantly composes itself, only sniffling now.
Employee O2 stands resolute
O2: That was for being quite rude to my fellow coworkers. I believe we are even now.
ANOMALY-A: Yes, yes. You'll have to excuse us for a second. A powder break is in order. Shoo.
Employee O2 hurriedly exits through the airlock.
The other two follow suit, unable to really do anything else.
The feline looks down at the burnt patch on its chest and rests its hand on it, uncertain how to respond.
"How in the hell did you do that?" Employee P mutters, smoke still leaking from his head. Employee O2 tilts his head in a most cat-like way. "It would be impolite to not do finish my job."
"B-bullshit. But THANKS." Employee Z lets out a dark chuckle.
>Mr. Salt to Bond with Fortune. Ask for a fortune and horoscope. Use salt coins if you have any, haha!
After some fun with a gun, Mr. Salt proceeds to the containment cell, laughing with each step. A circular chunk of salt rests in his right palm.
Salt enters through the airlock.
SALT: Alright! Finally, some one on one experience!
The fortune machine sits there, awaiting its new guest.
Salt takes his sweet time scuttling over to the machine. Each step gets a small laugh out of him.
SALT: I never quite understood astrology. Though the salt elders always spoke well of it, ha ha!
SALT: So!
Salt drops the "salt coin" and a regular coin into the machine.
<span class="mu-r">The machine instantly spits out the salt coin without a second thought.</span>
SALT: Well, can't say I didn't try!
SALT: Here. To make up for it.
Salt drops another regular coin into the machine.
SALT: So. What to ask you for the question? Heh-heh...
SALT: Tell ya what. Tell me a bit about yourself. Do you have any regrets about the things you've done?
<span class="mu-i">I know what Fate desires, what Fate wills. But the wills of myself?</span>
The machine stays perfectly still, even after Salt pushes the buttons.
Salt squats down, waiting patiently for his fortune.
After a few moments, two slips of paper get spat out of the machine.
Salt catches them with a quick flick of the wrist. He skims through them.
It's hard to make out what facial expression Salt just made. He holds up the
ANOMALY: "Cancer: Just like the disease, you'll make a killing today. <span class="mu-g">Profits will be high for any business venture!</span>"
ANOMALY: "I regret that I can only bend my rules so far. I do not seek to harm but Fate demands a balance."
ANOMALY: "Too much good fortune is boring. Too much bad fortune is bleak. There must be equal."
SALT: Ha-ha. If you can't bend them, why not break them? Like some nice spaghetti, ha ha!
Salt exits the containment cell.
