“Please have a seat.”

Jester waited for Andry to choose where to sit first. The bigger man drawing the woman’s attention for the time being. A fact Jester wasn’t afraid to admit was a comfort. Andry ended up taking one at the end. That left him on Jesters right, while Dam13n took a seat on his left.

Dam13n kept shooting him confused looks, and he understood why. What was present was at a direct contrast with the heavy air in the room.

None of the decor was frightening. A typical office space in almost every way. Except maybe for the fact the designer used furniture from second-hand stores and dumps. Ancient pots holding wilting plants sat astride rusted filing cabinets. Papers stuck out of the draw, some even making their way to the floor.

It even smelled like an office. A light scent of air freshener and air conditioner.

Other bits of clutter filled the room, an odd contrast to the woman who sat at the overflowing desk. Mistletail. Her grandmotherly tones matched her appearance to a T. She wore a knitted cardigan, and her grey hair was short and curly. Half-moon spectacles sat on her wrinkled face.

All things one would expect to see.

Until you looked into her eyes.

They were as gray as her hair, and cold as ice. The type of eyes one imagined when dreaming up powerful authority figures. Headmasters or a governess who ruled over stubborn children.

A shudder ran through Jester when they landed on him. It took all his effort not to look away. He almost jumped when a hand rested on his shoulder. Metal, cold and strong, gave him a small squeeze. Happy Hour was with him. Things weren’t all bad.

Because of her position behind him, he didn’t see, but heard, the curtsy. A rustle of skirts as soon as those eyes moved off him.

“Good day Ma’am. Tea or Coffee?”

Happy Hour was using her most professional voice. Was it pure politeness, or could she read the room? Not for the first time, he wondered how aware she was.

Mistletail smiled at the question. A tiny inclination of her head, the single sign of her approval. For one moment her full gaze rested on Jester once more, before she turned back to Happy Hour.

He suppressed a sigh of relief. It was rare something got approval from the union head.

“Tea please dear.” Mistletail looked towards the door. “The kitchen is two doors down on your left. In the top-most cupboard. Thank you for being polite enough to offer.”

Another rustle of clothes sounded out, and Happy Hour moved towards the door. Whiskers sat on her shoulder, the cat snoring and twitching. The robopets sleep function activated by the building’s automatic security features.

They didn’t need it in Whiskers case. Though it came in handy every so often. One time, a hamster got loose in the walls and chewed through the cables. A glitch that cost them both a lot of credits and time to fix.

Jester wondered why more buildings didn’t come equipped with such security measures. Though he supposed most places didn’t have the same worry. A glitching robopet wasn’t a common sight in Geartown.

Mistletail’s nod at the retreating robot contained an air of approval. When the door closed, however, she turned to Andry with a glare. The Paladin gave an audible gulp. Jester couldn’t say he didn’t feel sympathy for the man.

“You’re late.”

Her tone was flat, even. The quintessential: ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.’

Jester pushed his chair back and felt mollified when he saw Dam13n do the same. The two men glanced at each other. Both agreeing to keep as silent as possible with a single look.

Andry nodded, his massive head bobbing back and forth. His gauntleted hands clasped in front of him like a reprimanded child. At no point did his eyes meet Mistletail’s, as his words flowed out from him.

“There was an altercation, ma’am. Bullying. The Lister Sisters were going after Kulli again. Words when I arrived, but it might have escalated. I decided it would be prudent to step in.”

“And this happened at the end of your half-hour walk?” Mistletail didn’t raise her voice, nor did she shift in her seat. She sat there, still and calm as a statue. “Your scheduled break is half an hour, yes?”

Andry nodded once more, face ashen. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Yes Ma’am. Half an hour Ma’am. It happened as I was coming back. But, other incidents caught my attentions. New players Ma’am. One who needed the speech. Then I rain into Jester on the steps…” Andry trailed off as Mistletail shifted.

It wasn’t a large movement. Not that it needed to be.

“How long were you gone?” Mistletail asked.

“One hour Ma’am.”

“Is that acceptable, Andry?”

“No Ma’am.”

“You’ll try to be more on time in the future?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Andry slouched in his seat. His shoulders slumped, and he refused to meet the older woman’s eyes.

She gave a decisive nod and reached out to tap the table.

“That’s all I ask.”

Jester wondered if the man was about to cry. He wouldn’t have been the first. There was something heartbreaking about hearing the disappointment in her voice.

Happy Hour’s arrival distracted everyone. The door opened with a creak, and she bustled in bearing a tray. Four chipped teacups and a teapot releasing a light steam made its way onto the desk.

With deft hands, she poured the tea and distributed the cups without a word. Mistletail took hers with a grateful noise. As the older woman sipped on the drink, Happy Hour moved to the side of the room.

There she stood, hands folded in front of her as she watched it all. Jester couldn’t help but smile. She looked content. Which led him to wonder if he should use her like this more often.

He’d have to think about it if he got his store up and running. Tea while you waited, perhaps? Not a unique gimmick, but Happy Hour might be enough of a draw on her own.

“Ahh, excellent. Thank you, dear.” Mistletail smiled at Happy Hour, who returned the gesture.

“Thank you Ma’am. You’re very welcome.”

For several seconds, the clinking of teacups on saucers, along with the sipping of tea, filled the room. Jester couldn’t remember the last time the tea here was this delicious. Much better than any anyone offered here before. Maybe he should send Happy Hour to give Madison some tips?

“Jester.”

His name brought him back, and he almost jumped out of his chair when he saw Mistletail staring at him.

“Yes Ma’am?’

“Your outfit is new. It’s nice. I wasn’t aware you were saving to buy such a thing. It’s always pleasant to see the younger generation taking pride in their appearance,” Mistletail said, casting an eye over Dam13n’s less formal clothing.

“Thank you, but I didn’t buy it, Ma’am. It was as a gift.”

“I hope you thanked them for such generosity.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Good. Now, what brings you here today? You’re not late on your dues again, I hope?”

Jester fidgeted and shook his head.

“No Ma’am. I’m competing in the Frankenstein Cup with Happy Hour here. I was hoping you might have some information on my opponent? A player called Virtualdream,” he asked, doing his best to sound professional.

“Truly? I thought that was mere rumor.” Mistletail looked over at Happy Hour. “She’s a pretty one. I don’t believe half the things those people on those videos are saying about you. But do you think this is the best choice?”

Jester didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t have a choice. That was between himself and Kylee.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Well, then we shall do our best to help. Regardless of any.” she paused, as though trying to find the best word. “Stigma. Such a thing will throw up.”

“The rumors are unfair!” Dam13n said, speaking up. “What The Developers do doesn’t reflect on us. We aren’t like that.”

“None of you?” Mistletail laughed. “Child. I have been playing games longer than you’ve been alive. I’ve seen things in their darker corners that would make your hair curl. But calm down. I’m not passing judgement.”

That seemed to mollify Dam13n. Jester was more interested in her offer of help.

Mistletail fell silent as she pulled open a filing cabinet next to the desk. She leafed through it, murmuring names to herself, until she pulled out a file. Multiple members of the union throughout the years attempted to get her to go digital. After all, they stored all the records on the unions’ private server. She refused without hesitation each time.

Physical copies were different, she would claim. Easier to manage.

It didn’t drop her job efficiency, so they left her to it. Until someone new came along.

“Ahh, here we are. Hmm. So she’s one of Rust_Wolf’s crew? Interesting, nothing in here says the Rust Red Dogs have multiple robots. Strange. What was the name on the contest form?”

“ZZZ-Dozer.”

“Hmm.” Mistletail leaned back in her seat as her eyes scanned the file.

All of them waited in silence as she read. Jester wondered if it was going to be bad news. He’d heard little about the Rust Red Dogs, which he knew to be a good thing. Only idiots or the enthusiastic made a big name for themselves in the union.

That meant this lot was smart.

Minutes passed before Mistletail looked away from the form. She let it slap against the wood and turned to Andry.

“Andry. Do you have time for another job today?”

The Paladin snapped off a salute as he jumped to his feet.

“Ma’am. Yes Ma’am.”

Mistletail smiled.

“Good. Then here’s what I want you to do.”

***

Andry was still on his feet as he accepted his orders.

Mistletail had spoken with care as she chose her words.

“Take Jester and Happy Hour. You three will be the delegation sent to handle our newest problem. I’ve received reports that Kangarookie is making moves on Rust_Wolf’s turf. They requested a neutral party to be present during the discussion. It will be at a meeting point in The Junkyard. Questions?”

“Where in the Junkyard Ma’am?” Andry was already moving towards the door.

Jester could see the excitement in the man’s posture. He lived for this stuff. No one knew what Andry did in the real world. The Paladin kept quiet about his personal life. Jester always assumed military or maybe emergency services. It was impossible to see him in a job where he wasn’t helping people.

“Please wait after you get outside,” Mistletail called. “I need to speak to the others alone for a moment.”

Another salute and the man was gone.

As the door shut with a soft click, her attention turned to Jester. Her presence seemed to grow to fill the space left by the bigger man.

“Now then, before I send you off, I should ask.” She adjusted her glasses. “You are happy to help here, correct?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Jester nodded, and he saw Dam13n do the same.

That caught Mistletail’s attention. She turned to the other boy.

“This is union business. I’m sorry, you may not attend.”

“But—” Dam13n started.

Jester winced. Poor kid didn’t know what he’d started.

“—but what?” Mistletail snapped. “Are you a fee paying member?”

Dam13n shrank back. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. Which caused him to perform a series of strange twitching movements.

“No Ma’am.”

“Do you deal with the things involving The Outskirts often?” A glint in her eye made Jester shiver.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“No Ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

With that done, she returned her gaze to Jester. From the corner of his eye, he saw Dam13n shaking. That was a typical reaction. He’d be fine. Though he’d check up on him before they parted ways.

To steal attention away from the previous display, Jester asked a question.

“Why all the fuss?” He placed a hand on the desk. “Can’t the Leaders do a one v one and call it a day?”

“They could.” Mistletail tapped a finger on the documents in front of her. “But there has been concerned raised. The biggest of which is if Rust_Wolf wins, Kangarookie will keep trying. With witnesses, there is definitive proof of the outcome.”

“I see. Well, I’m happy to help, Ma’am.”

Jester rose to his feet, and Dam13n followed suit.

“Excellent. You’re dismissed.” Mistletail looked over to the side of the room. “Happy Hour?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Thank you for the tea. Look out for him?” Her voice wavered, sounding almost concerned. Even her eyes softened.

“Of course Ma’am.”

“Oh, and Jester?” Mistletail said.

“Ma’am?”

“I like your new suit. It’s nice to see you younger players taking pride in your appearance.”

A warm glow started in his chest at those words.

“Thank you very much, ma’am. I’m liking it too.”

Without another word, she returned to her paperwork. Looking once more like an ordinary old woman.

Andry was waiting for them in the hall. He’d moved far enough down the hall he couldn’t overhear, but stayed close enough to be seen. The man’s posture was stiff. A picture of professionalism. Mistletail’s comment leaving a clear mark.

“Are we ready to depart?” He asked when the others came into view.

Dam13n shook his head.

“I suppose I’ll be seeing you later.”

“Ahh,” was all Andry said before moving ahead.

Jester appreciated the gesture and took full advantage of the opportunity presented to chat.

“How are you?” Jester looked at Dam13n with concern.

“I’m fine. Is she? Well. That was a lot.”

“Yes, she is. Yes, it is.” Jester smiled. “You get used to it. Be thankful you don’t owe her money.”

“She is a powerful woman,” Happy Hour added.

“In more ways than one.” Jester waved to a passing player. “She’s been here forever. It takes a lot to keep this place running.”

Damn13n nodded. “I guess it would. You’ll give me the deets later though, right, man?”

“Sure.” Jester laughed. “Where did you want to meet up? Though I may have to log off depending on how long it takes.”

“Of course, of course.” Dam13n waved a hand. “How about one of the lounges?”

Jester winced, a motion that Dam13n caught. “My treat.”

“Thanks. Yeah, that sounds good.”

He may not have known the other player long, but it was nice to have a friend of sorts. Plus, he could see Happy Hour’s subtle nod from the corner of his eye. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but she’d taken a liking to them.

“Sweet, man.” Dam13n drummed his fingers against his leg as he thought. “Do you know The Last Rite?”

While he’d never been, Jester knew of it in passing. A vampire themed establishment that became popular during the occultist update. Fewer people visited now, though business was still flowing, from what he heard. After all, vampires never went out of style.

“Can do. I’ll shoot you a message when we’re done.”

“Awesome, man. I’ll see you then.”

As they exited the building, Dam13n gave one last wave.

Jester waved back, standing next to Andry as he watched the other man vanish into the street of ruined buildings.

“He is a good friend,” Andry said.

“He is.” Jester nodded. “So you know where we’re going?”

He stayed silent as Andry brought up his menu, followed by his map. The bigger man scanned it for a few seconds before nodding his head.

“I do. It’s not as far out as I feared. We should finish with little in the way of issues.”

Jester couldn’t help but wince at that statement. Even Happy Hour looked aghast.

“Good to know,” Jester said.

Though all he could think of was what kind of jinx the bigger man had placed on them.

***

Happy Hour stayed close as they walked through the deserted streets. Jester could see her taking in all the unique sights of The Outskirts. Her red eyes roaming over the crumbling buildings and cracked streets.

However, it was the people she focused on when they appeared.

Said people displayed two distinct reactions to their small group. The first type waved, flashing the union sign. To these, Andry nodded, and called greetings. Jester did as well, though he didn’t know even half the people that Andry did.

However, the second group was more suspicious. They took one look at Andry and fled. Non-members or people late with payments, perhaps? The Paladin could be a persistent debt collector.

One thing Jester was overjoyed with was how no one commented on Happy Hour. No players shouted nasty insults or gave him strange looks. All too busy with their own stuff.

Andry kept them at a quick pace, but Jester still had time to examine his surroundings. No matter how many times he walked these streets, he couldn’t help but marvel at the sights.

Most were typical decaying stone structures, interspersed with a few in a better condition. Union’s symbol marked those buildings. Safe houses of sorts. Places any avatar could slip into for a chance to rest, due paying members or not.

Sometimes it was nice to sit in a chair you knew wouldn’t break underneath you.

Though that begged the question.

“Andry, why aren’t we doing this in a safe room?”

“Ahh!” Andry exclaimed, not breaking stride. “Kangarookie refused. Didn’t want to leave The Junkyard. Worry not, though, my friend! You shall be safe at my side.”

“Jester, may I ask something?” Happy Hour asked from his side.

“Always.”

“You and Mrs. Mistletail both spoke about the gangs as though they were an everyday occurrence. But what are they?” She moved up to stand by his shoulder. “Are they going to pose a danger?”

“To the last bit, I doubt it. Or at least not to us,” Jester said, reaching up and giving her shoulder a squeeze. She smiled at him. “But to answer your first question. You know better than anyone about how the shops dump stuff in The Junkyard. Well, some people believe the distribution isn’t random.”

Happy Hour blinked.

“What? Of course, it is. Else I would end up in the same spot every time.”

Andry laughed. “Superstition is a powerful thing, Miss Happy Hour. A glue that can bring people together stronger than any other.”

“But it’s observably untrue!” She frowned, reaching up to pat the still sleeping Whiskers.

“Sure,” Jester agreed. “But so are small scale trends. Say someone finds a particular weapon type multiple times, dumped the same section or during certain days.”

“And then they tell a friend,” Andry added. “Who goes and tells a friend. Then suddenly you have a group of people who want to protect the area.”

“Until gangs form.” Happy Hour nodded. “But how do they even defend their territory?”

“Bets. Most of the leaders have robots. So they bet over territory. Not exactly system enforceable, but it works for the most part,” Jester said. He grinned as Whiskers woke up and transferred to his shoulder. The cat gave a small purr. “Hey buddy.”

“And when it doesn’t, we step in!” Andry said, raising a fist to the sky. “As impartial judges, we spread the word about the results and the rumor mill polices them. Again, mostly. Rarely does it escalate.”

“I see. Thank you,” Happy Hour said, somehow managing a moving curtsy.

Andry paid the bridge fee to Gero, who waved at Jester before they passed. The bridge forced him to put Happy Hour in his inventory before they crossed. Her symbol blinked in the menu, slowly, as though a fading heart beat.

As soon as they crossed, he pulled her out. Happy Hour remained as poised as ever, but refused to answer any of his questions about what it was like. He got the picture and turned to Andry instead.

“How far in are they?” Jester asked, as they moved past the mounds of junk. He almost missed Andry’s answer when he noticed a familiar sparking wire. Anger filled him. He could still hear the blonde’s mocking voice.

“Not far,” Andry said, breaking him out of his memories. “They set up an area ahead inside of Rust_Wolf’s territory. Don’t worry, this shouldn’t take long.”

“Do we have a plan for finding out about Virtualdream?” Happy Hour asked.

“Keep our eyes open?” Jester shrugged. “We can’t even be sure they’ll be online.”

“Unhelpful.”

“Agreed.”

Conversations continued, but nothing of note. Jester found himself too distracted. The top of the stacks drawing his gaze. Did he see someone up there? Maybe. The question being whose watcher it was. Kangarookie or Rust_Wolf?

No symbols or colors decorated the cloak, so it might be an interested third party. Jester sighed. He hoped this would be as easy as they were told. With a pop, the holographic blimp vanished, signalling they were at the meeting point.

Not that they needed it. The crowd of avatars made it obvious enough.

On Jesters left sat Rust_Wolf’s crew. Their seats, ranging from modern dining chairs to cracked klismos from the Ancient Greek update, sat in rows. Avatars lounged on them, dressed in pseudo-military uniforms. Dusty orange jackets, all with a piece of armor attached to their left shoulder.

They were quiet except for the occasional whispered conversation, all paying attention to their leader, who sat in what Jester nicknamed no-man’s-land. In the corridor of space between the groups, Rust_Wolf sat on a poorly patched office chair. He wore the same jacket, but armor decorated both of his shoulders.

He looked well put together, a far cry from his opponent.

Lounging was the only way to describe the way Kagarookie sat. The fresh-faced young man looked comfortable as he ran a hand through his long, messy brown hair. His grin showing off his bared teeth, at odds with Rust_Wolf’s more placid expression.

Behind their leader, Kangarookie’s boys, and they were all boys, milled about. They chatted, laughed, sung, and argued. All dressed like extras from Mad Max or maybe Tank Girl. None bothered with chairs, though some sat on tires or large rocks. A few pointed and jeered when Andry stepped into view.

When Jester drew close, the entire group burst out into song.

~“Dollfucker, Dollfucker! Who do you please?

Did you go with a robot, because you’re a sleeze?

Or do you like metal for the oh so tight squeeze?

Tell us, oh Dollfucker, who do you please?”~

His blood would have run cold if it was possible. That sounded rehearsed. Did they know he was coming, or did they plan on attending the fights? He hoped for the latter. Otherwise, he’d missed someone following them around The Outskirts.

Happy Hour straightened, and he could see the impassive mask slip slightly at the song. He watched as her eyes narrowed, and her mouth quirked into a tiny frown. Her shoes bent as she got ready to fight.

To Jester’s relief, she didn’t make a move. He placed a hand on her shoulder, relief when she stepped back at his squeeze. More jeers from the crowd erupted at that move.

Andry, unflappable as always, ignored the song and situation, striding up to the two leaders. Rust_Wolf stood, Kangarookie stayed in his chair.

“Andry, good to see you.” Rust_Wolf’s voice was deep, and contained a growl that Jester recognized as a DLC pack add-on. Something about the sound combined with his demeanor made Jester feel safe.

It took on a form different from Andry. While The Paladin’s aura spoke of a shield against harm. Rust_Wolf’s threatened vengeance against anyone who messed with his friends.

When the man turned his attention to them, Happy Hour dropped a curtsy. Jeers and cheers exploded from their right, as Jester shook the man’s hand.

“Nice to meet you. I hope you don’t mind us tagging along with Andry here.”

“Not at all. The more witnesses we have, the better,” Rust_Wolf said. “Though, I know you. You’re here for Dream.”

“Yes,” Jester said, biting off the urge to say, sir. Even with the white streaks in his hair, he got the impression the man piloting the avatar wasn’t that much older than him.

“Well, she’s around. Feel free to mingle after the meeting, but I make no promises,” He said, before turning back to Kangarookie. “Shall we start?”

“Finally,” Kangarookie groaned. “Thought I was going to die of boredom.”

“Quite,” Rust_Wolf said.

“Excellent!” Andry clapped his hands. “So, gentlemen. What seems to be the problem?”

The story took a while to tell, with Kangarookie unable to stop himself from butting in with snide remarks. According to Rust_Wolf, Kangarookie’s people were harassing his scouting and hunting parties. Stolen items, traps, blocked off areas. They’d ignored it until it’d started cutting into their profits. Which, for some people, meant they weren’t able to play at all.

Kangarookie, of course, denied none of this.

“Not my fault he can’t defend himself,” he said, while upside down in his chair.

“We’ll see,” Andry said.

It all came to a head when robots got involved. Allegedly, Kangarookie’s right-hand man, BullyBill started challenging scouts to fights. Which, of course, they couldn’t do as they didn’t have a robot to fight with. So it just caused havoc instead. Multiple scouts over the weeks needed to be evacuated from a collapsed junk pile.

They tossed it up the chain, and now they were here.

Jester watched Andry’s face at the news. It was hard to tell, but it appeared he didn’t know about this other robot. Mistletail was going to get a long report when this was done.

“Is the talking over now?” Kangarookie whined as he righted himself. “My boys are getting bored. Which means I’m getting bored. Can we fight this out already?”

Andry met Rust_Wolf’s eyes, who nodded.

“Of course. I think the terms in this case would be obvious.”

“Yeah, yeah. I stop attacking if he wins. If not, I get to carve out the northern part of his territory. We know. Can we just do this?” Kangarookie sprang to his feet. His rusted armor jangled and clanked as he started shadow-boxing.

“Fuck ‘em up, boss!” The avatars behind him cheered as they started scrambling backwards. Some even bothered to clear the area of the tires and other junk seating.

Rust_Wolf stood as well, and with a quick signal, his crew packed up and moved away. Neat and organized.

Jester, nodding to Happy Hour before moving away as well. But then a voice caught his attention.

“Where do you think you’re going, Dollfucker?” Kangarookie grinned at him. “What? You don’t want to fight?”

“It’s not my business,” Jester said as calmly as he could muster. Happy Hour moved to stand in front of him, which earned a laugh from the watchers.

“You’re very rude for someone wearing scraps,” Happy Hour said, a hint of an edge to her voice.

“Oh, the doll can bark. Funny, I don’t see any dog ears,” Kangarookie said, moving around her, until he stood next to Jester. “But maybe there’s a tail hidden under that skirt?” He asked, reaching as though to place a hand on Jester’s shoulder. “Do you give it a tug when—”

He didn’t finish the sentence, interrupted by Happy Hour shoving him to the ground.

“Don’t touch him,” she yelled.

There was silence for a second as people processed what had just happened.

“Happy Hour,” Jester started.

“Mistletail instructed me to protect you, and I shall,” she said.

For a moment, he thought she was overreacting. Some kind of personality glitch. Then he saw the spark coming from Kangarookie’s glove. A taser. Wouldn’t kill him, but it would have put him on the ground.

“Thank you, Happy Hour.”

Andry slammed a fist into hand. “Unacceptable. I will not tolerate this type of behavior.”

Kangarookie ignored Andry, his eyes locked on Happy Hour. “Awww. His little play pet wants to go. Shall we let her boys?”

Cheers and chants erupted.

“We are just here to observe,” Jester said. “Happy Hour, back off.”

“No, no. I think this will go well. After all, Three v Three is fair, right?” Kangarookie laughed. “Unless you have a third of your own, Rusty?”

Before Rust_Wolf could respond, two figures hurried from the group to stand next to their leader. One was BullyBill, large, bald, and muscular. He sneered at everyone. The other was the cloak figure, who Jester spotted earlier.

Rust_Wolf frowned. “This is between me and you, Rookie. Why are we bringing anyone else into this?”

“Why? Because it’s more fun! That’s why,” Kangarookie snorted. “Worried you can’t fight my team?”

Rust_Wolf met his eye, and Jester felt himself deflate.

“Happy Hour, are you ok with this?”

“Yes.”

He shivered at the way she said it. Under normal circumstances she was excited for fights, this was something else.

Rust_Wolf nodded to her and whistled long and loud. A young woman moved towards them. Her pink hair, short and spiky, caught his attention first. A cloth mask bearing a black and white spiral covered her face. It moved in a slow rotation, almost hypnotically.

He turned away.

“Well, only one thing left then!” Kangarookie cackled, as the notification appeared.

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