The Albatross soared majestically through the sky, her cargo hold hull of crates of expensive Caledon Blue cheese. The crew, an adventurer and a sloth, were excited about the upcoming deal. This cheese caper would set them up for over a year. The landscape drifted swiftly by beneath them. Sigmund chittered excitedly from the rigging while Mr Firecrest stood at the wheel, whistling. Their destination, and expected payment, grew ever closer.
The ground below was becoming more and more familiar, landmarks from their previous visit coming into view. If Mr Firecrests memory served, the house should have been over the hill they were approaching. The crews excitement turned to concern as they spied black smoke rising over the inclination. Russell quickly flew them into viewing range and retrieved his spyglass.
Smoke billowed from the grounds of the mansion, obscuring his view. Sigmund tugged at his trouser leg and squeaked inquiringly.
“I don’t know, there’s too much smoke,” He replied. “We’re going to have to land.”
The Albatross slowly descended to the ground below. Russell put her down a little way away and told Sigmund to keep her ready to fly in case anything went wrong. He grabbed his Winchester and climbed down to survey the scene.
It was a mess. The house was almost completely gone, timber and masonry scattered the area and a large crater could be seen where the kitchen had been. A large hole had been punched in the wall around the grounds and two deep grooves led through it like tracks. Pieces of the expensive clockwork guards littered the area around the breach. No one would be buying cheese here today.
The adventurer sadly returned to his ship. Climbing onto the deck, he explained the situation to Sigmund. The sloth let out a long dejected squeak.
“The cheese won’t last long in this weather,” Russ said morosely. He had sunk a very large portion of his savings into the cargo in his hold. “What are we going to do?”
Sigmund squeaked back with an idea.
“I suppose that might work. We’ll have to buy some ice to keep it cool. Who would buy cheese in Babbage?”
The sloth shrugged.
Russell sighed loudly. “Let’s go before what ever happened here blows up our investment.”
The Albatross lifted back into the air and floated off in the direction of New Babbage.
Hmmm… I wonder if the owner of the mansion was named Wallace…
you can peddle you cheese at the beer garden =^-^=