"Dishes?" Harold asked. He had reeled back in his chair, and looked absolutely insulted.
"You don't have to. Just we're all the only ones here, and we all have to jump in to keep things running, you know?" Ted shrugged.
"Does he help?" Abraham asked as he pointed an accusatory finger at Og'drimun.
"Me?" Og'drimun scoffed. "I do tons of stuff!"
Clip clop. Clip clop.
Just then, a pale horse with no rider walked up. It kept moving forward until its chest pushed against the table and moved it forward. It wasn't enough to knock the table over, but it shifted up, and was now crooked, and leaning against the horse's chest.
"See!" Og'drimun boasted.
"See what?" Abraham snarled as he lifted his mug up off the table to keep it from sliding off.
"I made that horse, and not just that." Og'drimun continued to boast. "I make loads of stuff."
"I do not think most of your creations are that beneficial." Sid declared.
"I mean, they're kinda useful, right?" Og'drimun asked as he started to slowly back away. He turned his little head towards Ted and asked, "Ted?"
Ted gulped. "Uh, I mean..." he looked at the horse who was just standing there and staring into the distance.
His brain struggled to think of the nicest way to say they were at best a waste or space. He still remembered the honey explosion disaster. He shuddered slightly as his hands remembered just how sticky everything was.
"They're big on helping others learn?" Said Ted with nothing really behind his words to support that statement.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Og'drimun smiled. "Ah hah, I knew it! I am useful."
"I don't think that..." Harold started to say.
"And I do plenty of other stuff too. I'm practically the only reason things get done around here. The vital cog keeping this wild machine turning." Og'drimun said with a proud smirk.
"Well then, I don't see why I'd need to do something so menial as dishes then." Harold suggested. "Since he's doing so much after all."
"It's not," Ted paused and let out a sigh before he continued. "I didn't mean you should do the dishes specifically. Just that we might need more help actually getting things done."
"Ah, well I'm great at getting things done." Harold smiled proudly. "Why, give me the resources and employees, and I can get darn near any results."
"Well that's just it, we don't have tons of people." Ted reminded him. "Which is why you might need to help out...sometimes..."
Ted had backed off on his firm chore stance. Harold was resisting too much, and he didn't want to deal with the confrontation.
Harold shook his head. "I don't understand...Wait, are you saying I don't do actual work? I'll have you know I'm probably the most important person in this institution. Without me, nothing would work at all. It would be anarchy! Madness! I am the last bastion of hope standing against the forces of chaos!"
Abraham snorted. "Sounds like a whole lot of nothing."
Harold glared at Abraham, and then lowered his glasses so he could look directly at him with his eyes. "Young man, what did you say to me?"
Abraham grinned wickedly and licked his lips. As he started to open his mouth, a door slammed and interrupted him.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
The jostling of metal on leather jingled out. From upstairs and down the stairway.
"Did I hear talk of someone who doesn't want to pull his weight?"
Sentenza was covered in bandages as he slowly walked down the stairs. Each stepped felt like a veiled threat as he looked indifferently down at the small group.
Harold looked even more insulted. He slammed his hands down on the table and stood up in a huff. "I am a very important man! I will not stand idly by and be insulted by such uneducated brutes!"
BANG!
A bullet flew past Harold's face, and knocked his glasses askew.
"The boss doesn't like me killing folk." Sentenza said flatly as he continued to slowly descend the stairs. "Otherwise I would've put hot led right between your eyes to shut you up for good."
Abraham stared at Sentenza. He had a mad look in his eyes as he smiled.
"I...that's completely unacceptable! A weapon? Here?" Harold stammered. "Just...just completely unbelievable."
He spoke like he was furious, but his shaking knees and how he slowly backed up behind the table told a much different story.
"What are you doing out of bed?" Ted scolded. "You're still injured. You're supposed to be resting."
Sentenza leaned against the railing as he finally made his way down. He tilted his hat up with the barrel of his gun and said, "I've got work to do. Can't just lie around all day and let other people take care of me. Besides, I bet you've got plenty of stuff that needs cleaning and taken care of."
"We can handle a little while without you." Ted said firmly. "I don't want you to make things worse for yourself by not resting properly."
Sentenza paused and smirked at Ted. "Alright then. If you think you can stop me. Go ahead and try it."
"Huh? I don't..." Ted started to speak, but was quickly interrupted.
Sentenza put his gun back in its holster and held his arms out wide. "If you're going to be so firm on it. Make me rest up. If you can't even do that, then just let me get to work."
Abraham leaped up from his chair and vaulted over the horse that stood between him and Sentenza. "Guess I found where I can help out." He said with a malicious grin.
BANG! BANG! BANG!