“So, the sibling rivalry has come to this,” said Thomas, meeting the Squire in the middle of the cavern. “Arguing about which one of us Father would have preferred to be his standard bearer.”
“Siblings?” the Squire sneered. “You are no brother of mine. I am the heir to the Dunsany. Who are you? Someone who Grandfather ‘treated’? How do I know you weren’t just another lunatic committed to his hospital? What gives you the right to my grandfather’s legacy? You’re not his son; you’re a FREAK!”
“Martin!” Tobias called out sternly. “There is no call for such language.”
“Father looked like you. He walked like you and he talked like you,” said Thomas. “But, unlike you, Father had a vision and an educated mind.”
“But what did it all get him in the end? Dead, at the bottom of a cave in the middle of NOWHERE! His head smashed-in by a FREAK just like you!” the Squire shouted as he unsheathed his sword. The two sisters flanking him each started wailing and clawing at their cheeks.
“So, it is true,” Thomas hissed. He drew his sidearm and aimed at the Squire. “Nelly Faulkner murdered Father. And what did you do? Watch? You were to bring me her head.”
“I won’t repeat Grandfather’s mistakes!”
The tension mounted with each passing second, threatening to shatter in a fury of bloodshed until Thomas lowered his weapon and strode forward, not stopping until the point of the Squire’s sword was pressing against his throat. It was impossible to read Thomas’s intent, neither his face nor his manner betraying any emotion. The cavern fell silent, all watching as Thomas wrapped his fingers around the blade of the sword, and slowly move it aside revealing a small spot of blood where the sword’s point had pricked his skin.
From Emerson’s vantage a dozen yards away, it appeared the lugubrious Dunsany monarch then leaned in and began whispering something for only the Squire to hear.
“What do you figure he’s saying to the Squire?” Emerson said in a hushed tone to Petra.
“Pleading for mercy would be my guess,” said Petra. “You just watch, Squire Pinhead’s going to put that monster down.” The next second proved her wrong, however, as the Squire took a step back from Thomas, resheathed his sword and nodded as though in assent.
For those interested, the scene involving the demise of Squire Malus’s grandfather can be found here:
http://cityofnewbabbage.com/reader/node/7358
Cripes!
Frig, frig, friggeroni.
Hey, in case Malus doesn’t come out of those sewers one day, have you hired a backup barkeep?
Assumin’ you plan to rebuild the pub when this mess is all over.
– Edward Hyde
You certainly have a lot of practice hanging out in bars, and your disposition should keep those annoying drunks with sob stories at bay. It seems like a natural fit. There is a slight probationary period where we suspend remuneration until we see things will work out, but that’s only a couple of years, then you’re topped up to regular salary. Let’s talk.
I wasn’t voulenteering to take over, you drugged-up airhead! I’m kept busy enough at the bloody hospital as it is!
Besides, the last thing I need is to be working with a dim-witted, egotistical lunatic who keeps forgetting about important things like payment and forethought, and who is so easily distracted that he accidentally angers an army from outer space because he broke a dead alien princess’s homing device. Trust me, I’d rather be stuck treating a moreau with mange than get dragged into your messes.
– Edward Hyde
So, we’ll pencil you in for an interview next Thursday then?
What part of “I don’t want to work with you” don’t you understand?! SOD OFF!
– Edward Hyde
Unit #6 might be looking for a new job soon. *nods*
Was Unit 6 the little one that scooped up all my butts last winter/spring when Mr. Underby’s henchman, Fanny Buxombottom, made me smoke outside? Because if it was I owe that little unit big time.
That would be the litter picking squirrel clockwork. *nods*
Unit #6 on the other hand is a huge, hulking clockwork. Likes chess, speaks very… slowly…
Probably the Squirrelwork is a better potential bar tender. *ponders*
Would the Squirrelwork work for wind-up peanuts?
The Squirrelwork would work for the occasional compliment and pat on the head, they just like to feel useful. *nods*
It has always been my experience that there is no more valuable remuneration than love. Send the little unit by anytime.
Who says I’m not coming back? Why are you giving away my job already? And what about my backpay?
Squire, there is just one small issue regarding your backpay. You know how the Gangplank accidentally got vapourized, well, we need to rebuild, so I borrowed your backpay to finance the new bar. It should be fantastic, you’ll be thrilled with your investment, I have no doubt. We can hash out the details regarding the return on your investment somenight over the hookah. I find it helps to be in a relaxed mood, if you know what I mean, when discussing money and or legal matters.
((End of the story will be posted this week))
My investment? So what percentage of the profits will can I expect as a return on my investment?