It didn’t arrive.
When no box appeared, Jester returned his attention to the screen. On it, Spellslinger was once more shooting bolts at Neanderthal. Not that the dinosaur appeared to care one bit. It roared and stamped about. Blasting beams and swinging at the floating hat with its short arms.
None of it worked.
Jester tore his eyes away to the screen hovering over Happy Hour’s miniature. Black was all that met his gaze, but for a minute he thought he saw a point of light. When he strained his ears, he heard the buzzing of bees.
She was still alive.
Stuck, but not dead.
All she needed to do was stay down there. Let Spellslinger kill itself in its battle with Neanderthal. An exciting victory? No. A victory? Yes. That was all they needed. She’d shown off enough. By dodging the flames and beating Minemachine13, there was plenty to showcase her skill.
Neither Madame Merriam nor Debrah could complain about the show.
Spellslinger dodged another strike. It floated up, shooting a beam directly into one of the dinosaur’s eyes. Neanderthal roared as it fired a beam into the sky. The crowd cheered, people screaming and clapping at the show.
More beams appeared as the floating hat circled around the dinosaur’s head. Electricity, fire and some kind of water jet all following one after another.
Not that it was free.
Multiple times, Neanderthal knocked Spellslinger to the ground. The hat forced to use its tongue as a spring to avoid being stepped on. That got another set of cheers.
Jester knew from the crowd’s reactions that it didn’t matter who won this fight.
People would talk about it for ages. The player base would form theories, forum threads, and share pictures all over the place. It made him wonder what would happen to the next set of three to go.
It wouldn’t be as exciting a second time.
Spellslinger was charging up another attack as it did its best to keep mobile. However, it was slower while it prepared to shoot. To counteract this, it was floating over the ravine. Anytime Neanderthal shot at it, it would dip to hide inside the chasm.
The screen turning black any time that it went in too deep.
Jester watched this game of peek-a-boo play out for a while longer as Spellslinger finished charging. A single shot, more powerful than any they’d managed before. It was seconds away from firing when something smacked into Spellslinger from below, knocking the attack off course.
Multicolored energy flew into the sky as the buzzing of bees started up once more. Happy Hour’s pole now poking up from the dark depths. She climbed out as the hat spun through the air towards the dinosaur.
Her buzzing war drum accompanied her rush to retrieve her weapon.
Dirt and dust fell away as she moved.
The chain mail that made up most of her skirt was all exposed. Light glinting off the chains. Her hair was a mess, though her somewhat melted tiara remained in place. She was smiling. A manic thing as she chased her weapon.
Jester yelled alongside the crowd as she moved. People cheering her name, even as others cursed her. Players called hacks as others laughed. It didn’t matter. The show was all that did.
And Happy Hour? She was by far putting on the best one.
Spellslinger floated away from a swipe from the clawed hand. Neanderthal roaring as it continued to attack. Happy Hour grabbed her pole, twirling and bowing to her opponents.
“Are we ready for our second dance?” Her tone was regal, assurance and power dripping from every word.
Jester laughed as he heard it. The Queen bee may be down, but she wasn’t out.
A roar and a flaming projectile were all that met her.
She dodged the flame with a quick step to the left, once more with her arms outstretched. She dipped under a strike from the dinosaur’s tail that left Spellslinger off balance. Then she spun and tossed her pole once more.
It bounced off Neanderthals scales and ricocheted into Spellslinger. A rip appeared in the purple fabric, showing off the metal underneath.
More screams from the surrounded players, and she moved again to avoid a blow.
Jester watched with fascination. This was her ballroom. Her show. Everyone else was simply living in it. Not that they knew it.
A bolt of electric ran towards her, and she side-stepped it and grabbed her pole once again. To his relief, he saw the next bolt strike against the shifting bulk of Neanderthal. It was then that he saw Happy Hour do something different.
Once more, her waltz started up. However, this time she focused her attention on Neanderthal. She never looked away from the bigger bot as she moved around him. Arms outstretched, never wavering from their position around her invisible partner.
Her face bore a smile, and then she bowed.
He shook his head as he watched the dinosaur stop mid-attack and bow right back. A movement which helped her block the water jet coming her way. Spellslinger fired more bolts, but now she had the other robot in her thrall.
It was dancing.
Its thick back legs stamping the ground as it shuffled back and forth. Happy Hour stopped her waltz and instead joined it. Back and forth the pair went, a moving target that was difficult to shoot.
Then something he wasn’t expecting happened.
When she twirled and clapped her hands, Neanderthal followed suit.
It was like how Lugathin acted when it tried to kick her out. Not any direct attacks. Instead, it followed her league. A stage crafted from its arms. Now she had a massive dinosaur as a backup dancer.
Jester laughed until he was almost doubled over.
The scene was simply ridiculous.
Players laughed along, others clapped. When he looked at the crowd, he saw some smaller players following the movements. It was a recital now. One any could join in on.
In the center of the arena, Spellslinger wasn’t any more immune. Though it continued to shoot, it bobbed about. The gross tongue flopping out from under the brim to spin about as the others did.
After a simple four-step maneuver, she thrust out her arm. The tongue and the arm followed. However, while the tongue hit thin air, the dinosaur’s arm did not. It smashed into the hat, taking it to the ground.
Happy Hour laughed then, skipping forward. Once more, the dinosaur followed suit.
With that, the match was over.
Noise filled the arena as Happy Hour bowed to the crowd. The maze vanished from around her, as she reappeared to stand once more in The Copper Coliseum.
A prompt flashed onto the screen, directing Jester to move to the teleport pad.
He did and quickly found himself next to Happy Hour.
Without thinking, he bowed to her. She laughed and pulled him into the hug. It wasn’t comfortable, what with the metal armor. However, he returned it, laughing himself.
Boos, screams, cheers and jeers filled the arena as the declaration of victory hung over their heads.
“We won!” he shouted to her, as two new players approached them.
“We did!” She called back with a small smile.
When she released them, she started once more to wave to the crowd. A few even waving back. Others screaming slurs instead, though they were being drowned out. Jester’s attention turned to the newcomers as he held out a hand to shake.
A shorter man with a thick beard took it first. His grip was firm as he gave it a solid pump.
There was a smile on his face, in sharp contrast to the other man.
This one was tall and gangly. Dressed in wizard robes the same shade as his robots. Jester could tell it was expensive by the sheer amount of glowing stars on it. Enchantments may not do much for players. They looked cool, though. So anyone making such items would charge a premium.
“That was bullshit.”
The wizard player stared at him. “My robot’s gear was way better than yours. I should have won that easily. If it wasn’t for the interference…”
“Oh shut up,” said Dwarvos. “He beat me too. Don’t see me bitching. Plus, look at that? Does it look like Scrapper gear to you?”
Karmagician continued to scowl, even as they were all shown on the screen.
“You’re not going to win, Dollfucker. You know that?”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” Jester smiled at him. “Guess it’ll depend on who I face in the next match.”
Dwarvos laughed and slapped Jester on the back. “No hard feelings on my end. That was fun. I honestly love the new format. Don’t get me wrong, duels are fun. This was something else.”
“A real shake up, right?” Jester looked at the laughing man. “Thanks for the match.”
“Yeah, you two.”
With that, all three of them vanished. Once again, he stood in the small room with Happy Hour.
She was looking at him, a smile on her face.
“Dollhouse?”
Jester shook his head. “Can’t. We have an appointment to keep.”
The smile on her face vanished.
“May I change?” It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t take it like one.
He simply took the clothes out of his inventory and waited for her to get ready. There was a café they needed to visit.
***
Meat Cutes was empty when they arrived.
Not even a single waitress was present, which made it easy to spot Masky sitting in one of the booths. His namesake turned in their direction as he waved to them. As they drew closer, Jester noticed the three steaming cups on the table.
“Sit. Please. It’s nice to see you again.” His tone was neutral, and he appeared relaxed.
Jester didn’t trust it.
However, with little else to do, he gave a nod and slid into the booth. Happy Hour didn’t follow. Instead, she moved to the side of the table. He watched she pushed his cup closer to him, before she did the same with Masky.
She didn’t take a seat even after this self-appointed task was done. With a simple nod, she stepped away. Her face was impassive, content to watch the proceedings.
“So, what is this all about?” Jester turned to Masky, who hadn’t touched his tea. “You took Whiskers?”
“I know who did.”
“And you’re going to tell me?” He fought to keep his voice as even as the mercenary. There would be no benefit in yelling and carrying on. No matter how much he wanted to make demands.
High off the victory or not, Whiskers being missing still cut deep.
Masky shook his head.
“No. That’s not my job.”
“And let me guess, you’re not going to tell me that either?” Sarcasm slipped through, and he mentally cursed himself.
“The opposite, in fact.” One of Masky’s gloved fingers tapped against the teacup. “That is the in fact what I’m being paid to do. Not that you’ll do it.”
“Oh?”
“My employer wants you to lose the next round.”
There was silence as Jester processed the statement. From the corner of his eye, he watched Happy Hour. She didn’t so much as twitch. Not a single flicker of response to the statement.
Jester laughed. It was the only thing he could think to do. This was stupid. First it was two robots who’d spent to kick him out. Now this?
“You’re right. I won’t. That’s idiotic.”
“Then you won’t get your robopet back.” Masky shrugged. “No skin of my nose.”
Silence reigned over the table as Jester tried his tea. He put it down with a frown. Not anything near the quality that Happy Hour could make.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Money.”
“Sure, but this is beneath you, right? We talked with Kylee. You’re a runner for the stores. I doubt they shortchange you.”
Another shrug. “They don’t. This is different.”
“How different?”
“Six zero’s difference.”
Jester whistled before he could stop himself. Masky nodded at the reaction before he waved a hand across the table.
“No idea why or how you upset these people. They pulled some resources together. This is going to be paying my sub for ages, not to mention I can grab whatever else I want.”
“You’re holding a robotic cat ransom for digital luxury?”
“Sounds silly when you put it like that.” Masky laughed. “Yes, though. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“What happens if we say no?” Jester frowned. “Are they going to destroy it? It’ll simply respawn back with Mrs. Shivit.”
“Someone they’ve stolen stuff from before.” Masky tapped his cup again. “You know, in case your plan was to walk over there and pick it back up.”
Jester leaned back in his seat.
“Well, this was a waste of time.”
“Told them it would be,” Masky agreed. “They still wanted me to try.”
“May I ask a question?” Happy Hour spoke up for the first time, once more approaching the table.
“Of course.” Masky turned to her. “How can I help?”
“Would you be able to deliver a message to them for us?”
Masky tilted his head before he chuckled.
“Is that a yes?” Her tone was calm, with a hint of that commanding tone she’d used as the queen.
Jester couldn’t help but smile as he heard it. This should be interesting.
As far as he could tell, though, Masky either didn’t notice or didn’t find any reason to be concerned about it.
“Yes. They wanted to hear your response, anyway.”
Happy Hour stood up straight, looking down her nose at the player. Her red eyes narrowed as she brushed a stray hair from her face.
“Tell them this. A maid’s job is to return thing to its proper order. Debrah will hear about this. If they think they can hide, they are wrong. Tell them we won’t lose because they tried to make us.”
“Add one thing for me?” Jester leaned forward. “Tell them to give us our cat back. I’m sure The Developers would be interested in them having a glitched robopet.”
Masky laughed as he stood from the table.
“You two are more fun than I expected. Alright. Now we’ve made it clear you aren’t going to cave. They had another proposition. If you’re interested?”
Jester blinked at him.
“I’m sorry?”
“No one actually expected you to cave to this. They’re angry with you. Not stupid. So they want something else.”
“Which is?” Jester prompted.
“You already did a promotion of sorts for Bikerbrawlers13, so nothing you haven’t done before. They want you to go to another stream. They already have an outfit picked out for you, Happy Hour.”
He paused before clicking his fingers.
“That was it. They asked me to check with you. How do you feel about rabbits?”
“What kind of stream is this?” Jester broke in before Happy Hour could respond.
“A match at your old employer’s turf. Rigged for you to take a dive. We figured you wouldn’t lose on such a big stage. So, how about a smaller one? You’re a big name now. It would do the streamer a lot of good to get some views.”
Jester said nothing for several minutes. His mind racing until it clicked. It was that event that Dam13n told him about. All they wanted him to do was lose there? He supposed it made sense.
Happy Hour’s win there cost them. They wanted to make their money back in the same place. At least that event wouldn’t get too many eyes on them. So it shouldn’t cost them too much clout.
Really, it was a simple request. Got the event, lose to their pick, all while they dressed Happy Hour in something idiotic. Oh, and get filmed doing it, he supposed.
“And we’d get Whiskers back?” He looked towards Masky, who nodded.
“As soon as the match was done.”
Happy Hour folded her arms and shook her head. Her gaze met Jesters, who gave a half-hearted shrug. He didn’t like this either.
“Do we have to answer today?”
“I’m afraid so. They want this match as soon as we can get it.”
“Fine. May I have a private word with Happy Hour then?”
Masky made a show of looking around the empty café. “Is this not private enough?”
“I believe he meant without you.” Happy Hour’s smile was faker than he’d ever seen it.
“Sure, I’ll be right out front then. Come get me when you’ve decided.”
When he was out of sight, Happy Hour took his seat. She tapped the table, her expressionless mask at odds with her hunched posture.
“Do you want to do it?” Jester asked first. “We don’t have to.”
“What other choice do we have?” Her eyes fell to the table and there was silence before they continued. “I don’t want to wear a skimpy outfit. Especially not if we have to lose.”
“That should be negotiable.” Jester knew it would be. He wouldn’t do this otherwise. “I’m sorry about this. If I hadn’t fallen asleep—”
“—I should have been watching over them.” Happy Hour cut him off. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Either way, we’re here now. Are we in agreement?”
Happy Hour nodded.
“In that case, let’s go tell Masky the good news.”
***
Happy Hour was standing in her normal place inside Debrah’s office.
Jester knew the party was still going on behind the doors. Players packed the bottom of the Dollhouse nearly wall to wall. The upstairs sections weren’t empty either.
As Debrah described to him, she’d wanted plenty of people around in case someone tried something. As well as to let all the meetings participants get here without trouble.
Madame Merriam, Kylee, Tiffany and Dam13n were all in attendance. Tiffany and Kylee flanking Jester. All were visibly shocked as he explained Masky’s deal.
Madame Merriam, Kylee, and Debrah were the most upset. Which he supposed made the most sense. It was their work getting him this far these kidnappers wanted to use. Plus, he was wearing the Dollhouse’s symbol.
“Well,” Madame Merriam sniffed. “You’ve gotten yourself into a right mess, haven’t you, boy?”
“It’s hardly his fault,” Kylee spoke up as Tiffany nodded in agreement.
“People.” Debrah cut off the start of the same argument. “That is not what we’re here to discuss.”
When she found all eyes on her, she shifted. Her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, in a mess of curls.
“Did they give you a time this would happen?”
Jester shook his head. “Masky said he’d contact me again, closer to the time.”
“The next ones in a couple of weeks, right?” Dam13m raised his hand. “Are you going to push it back?”
“No.” her voice brooked no argument. “We keep the schedule. See who shows up. I want to know who to ban.”
“Don’t you know already?” Kylee asked.
“If we did, they would be gone already.” Tiffany punched her open palm.
Debrah shook her head and took the cup of tea from the desk. A drink Happy Hour was insistent on making herself. It seemed she saw the grimace he’d made in the restaurant.
“If we did that, there would be no chance of getting Whiskers back. This will need to be handled more carefully.”
“So a sting operation?” Dam13n sat forward in his seat. “Can I help?”
“She wouldn’t have invited you if you couldn’t, would she, boy?”
“Merriam.” Debrah shot a look at the other woman, who rolled her eyes.
“Debrah. Please. This is a game. Let’s stop acting so serious. One robopet isn’t worth all this fuss.”
“Oh?” With a single raised eyebrow, a shiver ran through Jester even though she wasn’t directing it at him. “Is that why you fought so hard to get my staff’s uniforms changed?”
“That’s different!” Madame Merriam’s voice raised. “It’s my livelihood on the line. My muse. We should forget the entire thing.”
“I can hardly back out now,” Jester said.
“You should never have considered it, boy.”
“Well, you weren’t exactly there.” Tiffany made as though she was about to stand. “He’s doing the best he can.”
“More tea everyone?” Happy Hour’s voice cut through the rising volume as though it was nonexistent.
In a second she was at the table, refilling cups and smiling at all involved. Before she moved away, she stopped by Jester’s shoulder.
“We both discussed this and agreed to this decision. Whiskers is a part of our group. We should get him back.”
With her piece said, she moved back towards her side of the room. The room was silent until Debrah set her teacup down. The small rattle drawing everyone’s attention. Her eyes swept all of them, landing on Jester.
“So we are doing this?”
“Yes. Though I told Masky if they tried to put her in anything skimpy, we would back out. That was my one condition. He figured they’d go for it.”
“If I ever get my hands on him,” Tiffany growled out.
Jester couldn’t help but laugh at the image. Masky was thin, and against the sheer strength Tiffany could employ? Well, he wouldn’t get hurt. However, he wouldn’t be standing up again until Tiffany decided he could.
“Did they say what kind of thing they were looking at dressing her in?”
Jester turned to Kylee, who was already looking contemplative.
“Rabbit was all they gave me. I’m assuming they meant bunny girl. Not sure what they’ll do now.”
“I’ll whip some things up.”
Kylee nodded to herself as she spoke. A motion that pleased Jester. She’d come up with something fun if she was already planning. Plus, if they had as much time as Dam13n claimed, they could test some ideas.
Madame Merriam gave a sigh.
“I suppose a few accessories will be in order.”
“Actually,” Jester raised a hand of his own. When she nodded at him, he continued. “You would know all the people who make clothes for Androids, right?”
“There aren’t many of us, boy.”
“Neat, you think you can ask around? If we can figure out who their designer is. Perhaps we can figure out who ordered it?”
“I doubt it.” She shook her head. “But it can’t hurt to try. Worse comes to worst. Perhaps we can figure out the right things to add to her outfit.”
“Fantastic.” Debrah clapped her hands. “It seems we have a plan.”
“What about me?” Dam13n asked again.
“Schmoozing.” Debrah pointed towards the door. “See if you can get anyone to talk. Your friendship with Jester is public knowledge. But idiots like to talk. We might get lucky.”
“Consider it done.”
With a salute, he was out the door. His chair vanishing not long afterward. Madame Merriam was the next to go. With a nod to Debrah and a smile to Happy Hour, she started towards the door.
“Are you doing an open bar again?”
“You know we are,” Debrah sighed.
“Excellent. I’ll see you all at the celebration.”
Once more, her chair vanished, and Jester looked around the rest of the room. Happy Hour was still near the teapot, her expression as blank as ever.
A proper maid.
Kylee appeared lost in thought as Tiffany shot him a look from the corner of her eye. When he met her furtive stares, she smiled and turned to Debrah.
“We going to be discussing anything else?”
With a shake of her head, the boss of the Dollhouse rose to her feet. “No, I think we’ve kept you all from the party long enough. Go have fun.”
“I’m sure I will.” Tiffany nodded to the door. “Jester, they have some excellent songs playing downstairs. Care to join me?”
“Sure.”
He nodded as he rose from his chair. Kylee followed suit, her gaze clearly focused on some screen he couldn’t see. From the way she pawed at the air, he assumed a notepad function. With one arm, he gave her a gentle elbow to get her attention.
“Hmm?”
“You coming? There is a party on, after all. Work later.”
“Aren’t you dancing with Tiffany?”
“Sure am. But there will be plenty of guys down there who’ll want your attention. Why not score some more free drinks? Plus, she’ll need a partner when Happy Hour drags me away.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.” Happy Hour sounded professional, but he could see the small curve of her lips.
If it wasn’t Tiffany asking, he knew she would have raised the issue herself. A part of him felt nauseated at the thought. All those people. However, it was a celebration for Happy Hour.
He wouldn’t miss that for the world.
With his arm taken by Tiffany, and Kylee laughing behind him. As they left, he could hear the gentle footsteps of Happy Hour following in their wake.206Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEzc2pr0OIg
