My Reputation followed me wherever I went. That was how I had provisionally named the roiling, shapeless mound of meat that at every turn grew a bit smaller due to Mariana’s actions. Sabrina behaved like a stereotypical American-movie-blonde-shopping because she wasn’t paying for it. I behaved like myself and watched the most interesting thing on the street as she went from store to store accompanied by the Wallet-pupper. Florencia and Cornelio had wandered off to buy something to cover the boy’s eyes.

“So, what’s your name, Cutie?” I asked the firmest-barked lady of the street. She seemed reluctant to answer. Given she was an ash tree, I assumed her name was Francine. “So, Fraxxy, beauty, have you killed any unsupervised husbands lately?”

Francine was a girl of delicate movements that were suspiciously coordinated with the win, but completely silent.

“I am starting to suspect you are deaf, lady.”

“You! The weirdo kissing the Ash tree!” Shouted a blonde woman dressed in a purple and green uniform. She took an identifying badge out of her the pocket in her left breast. Law enforcement came to take away my plantventuring life once more. “Where did you get the flesh golem?”

My Reputation, a formless mass of meat cuts, rose by my side.

“I bought it in a butchery.”

She crossed her arms.

“And why are you covered in blood?”

I limited myself to the noble act of pointing at My Reputation.

“Sir, I will be honest with you.” swhe said, reaching for her… technomagic gun or something like that. I don’t know, it was a gun with one of the crystals instead of the hammer and a rather stylish look full of curves. “I have reasons to believe you killed one of the most wanted sexual predators in the city.”

“And why are you pointing at me with a gun?”

She blushed. “Well… Sir… you know… most wanted,” she repeated, biting her lower lip.

My misogyny and my misandry were saying their vows as, in the light of recent events, they got married in a shotgun wedding, due to the fact my misandry had impregnated my misogyny in a wild, drunk night and misanthropy, the child, could not be born out of wedlock, no sir.

“You are telling me you wante dthe guy alive because you liked him?”

“No. Most wanted, Sir! Half the women in town felt compelled to seduce him because he believed himself so high and mighty for women!”

“Lady, he was a gay rapist,” I stated flatly.

“And aren’t we good enough for a gay rapist, huh?” retorted the policewoman.

I had more than enough belts to strangle her, but I lacked the will. It was like kicking an annoying Chihuahua. Not because she waqs small, but because I considered her a hellspawn surged directly from Beverly hills.

“Listen, if women in this city are so eager to end up dead in a ditch, I ccan provide that service for cheap. It was self defense against the Butcher.

She kept pointing the gun at me. “But you stole from his store, didn’t you, little criminal?”

“No, I bought the meat. Look,” I cleared my throat. “Mariana!” I called at the top of my lungs.

Three seconds later, she was rolling to a stop, some meters past me. Once the friction of the street provided her with some brakes, she shook of the dust of the impact and pranced to my side like the mirthful zombie of Bambi’s mom.

“Send the lady the receipt for the meat.”

Mariana promptly obeyed and the policewoman fell to her knees while dropping her gun. Instantly afterwards, she grabbed the sides of her head and started screaming.

“What did you do? The passersby are staring at us!”

“I sent her the receipt converted to Bolívares Fuertes.” Mariana said, and licked her nose as if she had not done anything bad.

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“Holy fuck Mariana, that is… a Graham’s number of zeroes I guess.”

Mariana didn’t answer. She only ran off back to wherever Sabrina was shopping.

“Thank’s Mariana.”

I was left there, contemplating the hurting police girl. I could kill her and add her to My Reputation, but I didn’t want to add another crime to the murder of her Romeo, so I bid the ash tree adieu, kissed her tender bough and said a sour goodbye.

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Nothing like the sound of a crying store clerk in the evening. I was envious because the crying had been caused by Florencia and not me.

“This is clearly not hundred percent Elyrean cotton! Elyrean cotton is softer to the tact and has a particular smell when mixed with Elf saliva!”

“I just… want you to stop… kicking me in the nuts…” he said, a sobbing curl of a man in the floor. “Take whatever you want, please.”

I walked up to my offtank and tapped her shoulder. Yhen, I placed myself between her and the poor man.

“Do you need help?” I asked.

“Yes… take her away. Please…” He begged and begged.

It was a sorry sight.

“I was not speaking to you.” I ordered My reputation to enter the clothing store, staining the lines of hanging clothes with blood and grease. From inside it, a pliable chair made of bone was produced, and I handed it to Florencia. “Consider this a token of appreciation for kicking testicles that belong not to my person.”

“Won’t you ask what happened?” butted in Cornelio.

I stepped aside to talk with the boy form man to man.

“I have enough context clues: The innocent store clerk tied to sell Florencia some gods he thought were legit…”

“Madame, not in the head, not with the chair!”

A wet sound and blood curling scream followed. “Not! Elyrean! Got it?”

“And, as it is obvious, your dear sister took exception to that, thinking he was trying to scam you two instead of an honest victim unaware of selling a counterfeited product. Thus…”

“My spleen! “

“The pancreas follows if you try to pass this again as Elyrean cotton, punk!” Florencia barked with her soldier voice.

I looked at the most human pair of eyes the boy had and we nodded in resignation. Florencia seemed an expert in causing pain without lowering the man’s HP too much. I was envious of that skill of her, it was pretty neat for torture.

“Florencia.” I called softly. “Florcita, blight of my life, hellfire on my loins…” I called again.

“What?” she asked, menacingly.

“Don’t get us into further trouble when I already had to deal with law enforcement, you neuron concentration camp!” I grabbed a nearby fluffy coat and examined it. “Synthetic skin, bad for a necromancer, but commendable” I returned the coat to its place and redirected my stare back at Florencia, who, still holding the man at chairpoint, glared at me in confusion. . “Sorry, I wanted to check that one out since I walked in here.”

She let the man go and he crawled away, towards the counter.

“Can’t it be another fabric, Flor? Does it have to be made from Elyrean cotton?”

“My bother’s eyes deserve the softer of fabrics and that can only be found amongst the finest Elyrean cotton muslins!”

“Whatever, get the best fabric you can without beating local businesspeople. I’ll go see what your sister is doing with MY bitch.”

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What Sabrina was doing with my bitch was totally boring an unexciting. She would buy something, Mariana would pay for it, and then Sabrina would pat Mariana’s head. I sat on an armchair made of belts, just besides the counter, in one of the few spots of the floor not contested by around an age majority of species of Kudzu-inspired metallic clutter, and waited. After about five minutes of barter and back and forth wafts of magic babble, the storeowner, a tall, bald, slim guy, noticed my presence.

“Would you happen to be another customer, good sir?”

“No, I am an armed robber, but I am way too polite to interrupt you while you are serving a customer. Do you happen to have any magazines to read while I wait for you to kindly empty the register?”

“He is my benefactor. We can ignore his antics,” butted in Sabrina.

“I thought the golden Retriever was your benefactor. “ The man argued, striking up a pose and taking his wrist to his waist.

“He is my owner!” Mariana telepathed happily.

Silence settled like Mariana’s mighty army of dust bunnies after two days of careless sweeping.

“Why would a puppy so rich need an owner?”

Mariana tilted her head in confusion. “I need an owner because I belong to dogkin.”

“But you have enough money to have a whole city, nay, a whole country to your beck and call, good girl.”

“Does that mean they can bring me rice with chicken in it?” She asked, wagging ther tail. I shoot from my seat. I had to stop her while I had time.

“You could get chicken with chicken in it!”

Mariana’s eyes opened wide as I jumped over the man and muzzled him with my right hand.

Mariana made her angry way to me and sat down, swiping the garbage on the floor to the sides as she wagged her tail.

“Walter, you never told me I could use money for chicken squared!” she chastised me.

“Chicken squared doesn’t exist, Mar.”

“It should, if you can mix rice with chicken, it is logical to be able to mix chicken with chicken!” her arguments were impossible to refute.

“But, Mariana…”

She stood up and stomped her paws on the floor.

“No! You lied to me! I am firing you as an owner! I want a dogvorce!”

Sabrina gasped. the store owner tried to gasp, but I was, you know, gagging him. A snake shaped automaton rose from among a pile of rubble and gasped.

“Dogvorces don’t exist, our relationship is asymmetrical. I decide when to end it. “I explained to her.

“I will march for my rights! Start a pet liberation movement! Dethrone the Humarchy!” She claimed as she leisurely turned and walked away, still wagging her tail.

I let the store clerk go and bolted towards Mariana, putting myself between her and the door.

“You aren’t going anywhere, young girl!”

She tried to sneak through the gap between my legs, but I caught her head with my knees. Then, she used funny teleport to appear behind me. As I processed what happened and turned, she began to race out in the streets. They grow so fast.

“I’d kill you if I didn’t have to run after her!” Was the last thing I told the man, before leaving him to his own means to suffer Sabrina.