>>6123361With Volka reassured, or at the very least distracted for the time-being, the two of you are interrupted by a triumphant laugh from within the factory! Turning to face the source, your eyes are met with a <span class="mu-i">very</span> smug Tzah-Tzie prancing out of Volka’s new door like a prize pony!
“Much obliged, Mr. Obber~” She coos, turning mid-step to curtsey at the clearly unhappy warehouse worker lingering where the door once was! “And don’t worry–we’ll have that sugar for you before you know it!”
The surly stevedore says something under his breath in response–you don’t quite catch it, but you doubt it was something nice. As you attempt to wave goodbye, you swiftly remember two important details: first, he probably can’t see your hand. Second, it’s still stuck to your CHEEK! AIIIIEEEE!
Stumbling over like you just crapped your pants, you skid to a halt in front of Obber as he warily stares you down!
“What <span class="mu-i">ELSE</span> do you want from me, eh? My coveralls? My kids?!”
Not really, you reply with an apologetic smile, but you did have one more question: does he know how to unstick a scheckt’d hand from a cheek?
“Course I do! Come’ere!”
You’re not sure if it qualifies with Obber being some kind of fish-faced thing, but if you were unclear on the definition of the word ‘<span class="mu-i">manhandled</span>’ before, well… you definitely just learned the meaning!
A scaly, spiny, squishy appendage wraps around your stuck hand like a damp Gummi Snake and <span class="mu-i">YANKS</span> it free like it owes him money! Pulling away with an unsettling <span class="mu-i">tearing</span> noise, your hand flops to your side as you feel the salty air take root in what is most <span class="mu-i">definitely</span> a raw, exposed chunk of your cheek flesh!
“Next time wear gloves, greenhorn.” Obber warns as your eyelids fight a losing battle against an invading army of tears! “Now hit the road–I got some lazy factory workers ta’ round up.”
If he still had a door he’d probably slam it in your face, but as things are the factory fiend just sorta plods away leaving you to nurse your wound.
“Huh! Never woulda’ guessed that was the way to do it!” Remarks Volka as she saunters up next to you and inspects the damage! “You’re a tough cookie, Rook!”
“And it was aaaallll worth it!” Boasts TT as she slinks over with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes! “Guess who scored you an early payday, Mr. Anton?”
Gimme the good news, you respond as you nurse your sore cheek. Rummaging around in her pockets, the girl makes a show of juggling a handful of <span class="mu-b">BELLS</span> on her claw–each one making a cheerful ‘<span class="mu-i">JING-JING!</span>’ as it sails into the air!
“Before you ask: you’re now the proud owner of <span class="mu-b">350 BELLS!</span>” The Durher announces with a wink! “These are the Fifty Jing bells, y’know!”
Bwuh-<span class="mu-i">HUUUUH?!</span>
>CONTD. 