Chapter 14 - Worship the Bean
Teaser:
Weapons are secretly being forged, and from what I understand, there will be a special weapon for me alone. I don’t exactly understand why, but The Oracle requested -- no -- ordered it. If she says I should carry it, then I trust her.
I’ve been watching Emmeet. He has grown in size in the short week we’ve been here and he paces around almost constantly. I worry that he is coming close to the end of his term internal giggle and wonder what that will mean for our upcoming fight. I hope that he can hold out long enough to ditch the Queen somewhere where she will never be seen or heard from ever again.
I seek him out, finding him in the kitchen, to see how he is feeling.
His back is to me, with his head stuck in the refrigeration compartment as he searches for something. I lightly touch him on the shoulder, hoping not to startle him.
He jolts a little and a small squeak comes out of him. I should have waited for him to extract himself from the fridge before I announced my presence.
“Oh. Bell-a! I am mosssst ssssurprisssed at your pressssenccce. Poachissss?” He asks, waving what looks like a pickle, except yellow in color, in my face. I smile and pluck the food from his fingers and he turns back to get another for himself.
“Thank you, Emmeet. I came to inquire of your health, and of the baby’s.” I tell him after he’s turned back around. I point at his little, errr, large, fanny pack baby holder-slash-out of body womb in explanation.
I’ve been watching Emmeet. He has grown in size in the short week we’ve been here and he paces around almost constantly. I worry that he is coming close to the end of his term internal giggle and wonder what that will mean for our upcoming fight. I hope that he can hold out long enough to ditch the Queen somewhere where she will never be seen or heard from ever again.
I seek him out, finding him in the kitchen, to see how he is feeling.
His back is to me, with his head stuck in the refrigeration compartment as he searches for something. I lightly touch him on the shoulder, hoping not to startle him.
He jolts a little and a small squeak comes out of him. I should have waited for him to extract himself from the fridge before I announced my presence.
“Oh. Bell-a! I am mosssst ssssurprisssed at your pressssenccce. Poachissss?” He asks, waving what looks like a pickle, except yellow in color, in my face. I smile and pluck the food from his fingers and he turns back to get another for himself.
“Thank you, Emmeet. I came to inquire of your health, and of the baby’s.” I tell him after he’s turned back around. I point at his little, errr, large, fanny pack baby holder-slash-out of body womb in explanation.
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