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Trouble with the Law

In the Bingo Hall Stableyard

Paint-pot calliaphone drops onto her mattress and falls asleep.

Constable Swede walks in.

Constable Swede sees Callia sleeping and quietly leaves

Paint-pot calliaphone stirs and rolls over sleepily. opening one eye, she notices a new boot-print in the mud beside the water-pump. she opens the other eye, the better to squint.

Paint-pot calliaphone hmmms. She knows that print alright. it's the unmistakable footfall of The Law. there's an instinctive moment of conscience-searching, but she can't think of anything she's “borrowed” lately.

Paint-pot calliaphone has given up worrying, and is halfway to her feet when she remembers. the shovel! she'd almost forgotten about that. she claps a hand over her mouth, and looks around all guilt and wide eyes.

Paint-pot calliaphone lights a hasty cigarette to help her thinkthinkthink. it wasn't her fault she lost the old one! she was victim not perpetrator of that theft - but she's not sure The Law would see it that way.

Especially not when you consider the other matter. The other shovel. What magistrate in the universe would believe a tale of two raids on the same day.

One to take a shovel. The other to deposit one.

Paint-pot calliaphone 's thoughts have taken a distinct turn for the dark and melancholy. She puffs frantically on her cigarette. Absconding with a shovel. Receiving stolen shovels (it must surely have been stolen)

Paint-pot calliaphone knows the case against her is a bad one. And yet she is, for once in her life, quite innocent!

Paint-pot calliaphone panics! she can't be brought up on charges! she's still got outstanding ASBOs from back home, after a series of . . . misunderstandings . . . with vehicle owners in the vicinity of certain fairgrounds.

Paint-pot calliaphone stubs out the remains of her smoke, as a plan starts to formulate in her mind. she does not wait for it to fully formulate. there's no time for luxuries like that. she has to move now!

Paint-pot calliaphone bolts into the coach-house. moments later she emerges, pedalling her cart for all she's worth. she'd use the back gate, but The Law's a tricksy thing. They'll be expecting that.

Paint-pot calliaphone heads therefore towards the hall, to sneak out through the front door undetected.

In Kittania

Paint-pot calliaphone hurtles into town aboard her cart, and slams on the brakes. her eyes are wide with fright, and she appears to be muttering to herself, “act normal, act normal, no-one'll ever know a thing. . .”

Paint-pot calliaphone screeches to an almost-halt, and then proceeds to pedal with Extreme Care and Slowness across the town square. she attempts a whistle, but her lips are dry and she can't get the notes.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido licks his chops a sight of Dunver before turning to Callia and cawing. Why's she so panicked?

Paint-pot calliaphone hears a caw while she is peering over her shoulder. you never know who might be tailing you, these parts. startled, she jumps in her seat and steers her cart into a mole-hole. “gahhh.”THUNK

AlienMorph Bob Zarido sets Ferryn on his back before going to Callia and chirping at her. All four of those huge tentacles go down to offer help out of the hole.

Paint-pot calliaphone is further startled by a tentacled Bob. it's not so much the tentacles, exactly. or the bob. it's just the sudden company. “waaughh I DIDN'T DO IT I DIDN'T DO IT HONEST GUV!”

Returning Contestant charles willem walks back in from the jungle and goes up his favorite pine tree.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido blinks. The tentacles still keep stretched out. He caws at her, probably confused as to what she's talking about.

Paint-pot calliaphone realises she's said too much! she has to be more careful. she resumes muttering. “s'not The Law, s'ok, act normal.” looking up, she manages a wide, too-bright smile. “h'llo” she croaks.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido points a tentacle at the cart, chirping. He's big. And strong. Could help. As far as saying anything, well. That doesn't happen with the BFA. Probably for the better, no questions! Hooray!

Paint-pot calliaphone begins to realise she might just have fallen on her feet here. she gives Bob a hopeful look, and hops down from the driving seat to start tugging at the stuck front-wheel.

Rookie Ozora looks around nervously. There are hardly any KittyMorphs here, but there are a lot of really weird things. . . Not to offend said. . . um. . . Contestants. Nope.

Returning Contestant charles willem begins to toy with a pinecone.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido smiles as much as he can with a face full of gnashing teeth, and wraps those big tentacles around what he can and helps pull. Pullllllll. And tug. YES TUG BECAUSE TUGGING IS GOOD.

Paint-pot calliaphone notices Rookie Ozora, and gives her an anxious glance. She doesn't look like a policeman (Callia usually can tell), but you still got to be careful haven't you. She acts Normal, frantically.

Paint-pot calliaphone clearly cannot tell that Ozora is male, however. it's possible her judgement is a little . . . wonky right now. happens when you're In Trouble, see.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido is anything but normal and he likes it! Especially with the whatever mutated alien thing he is right now. It looks fucking insane.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido totally knows about that judgement thing.

Returning Contestant charles willem grabs 2 other pinecones and practices juggling.

Paint-pot calliaphone waves tentatively to Ozora. Y'know, like One Law-Abiding Citizen to Another. She's noticed that Bob's taking up a lot of the slack on that stuck wheel, so her own efforts are mostly for show.

Rookie Ozora waves back to calliaphone slightly.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido takes up whatever slack he can, he wants to help and be a goodBob, GO BOB GO.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido does in fact, go. Well his pulling is going. The rest of that massive heap of spines and legs isn't really going anywhere, it is pulling!

Paint-pot calliaphone stands back a little from the cart, admiring Bob's technique. she's almost tempted to offer helpful criticism, but a rare moment of wisdom intervenes.

Returning Contestant charles willem gently tosses a pinecone at ozora and waives.

Returning Contestant charles willem plucks another pinecone from nearby and continues juggling.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido glances at Callia before he pulls the entire cart out so that it sets in front of her. He sniffs it, probably looking for REWARD FOOD.

Paint-pot calliaphone notices Bob sniffing around her cart, and she hastens to distract him from the lemon-scented candy-bar that tastes of detergent, directing him instead to a bowler hat filled with dolly mixtures.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido is easily distracted! He promptly sniffs the bowler hat, instead, making begging chirpy whines. Yes he would like food please. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido mooches.

Paint-pot calliaphone offers Bob the dolly mix.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido has become successful in his mooching! He eats the mixture happily. chompchompchomp.

Paint-pot calliaphone says to Bob “thanyouverymuchforgettin'meouttathehole” and glances round. no p'licemen yet.

Returning Contestant charles willem ramps it up to 4 pinecones. ooh, tricky tricky.

AlienMorph Bob Zarido chitters at Calliaphone before hugging her. Carefully, with all those spines, of course. He is more than happy to help, it seems.

Paint-pot calliaphone nearly panics, then realises she's being hugged not apprehended. she hugs back, and then climbs into her cart. for a moment, she gives the mole-holes a deeply thoughtful look.

Paint-pot calliaphone bites her lip, and chances a look in the back of her cart.

Paint-pot calliaphone eeps in alarm, and hastily tugs a blanket over the shiny corner of a shovel, which is exposed amid the junk in the cart. then she looks around, all innocenty-like.

Returning Contestant charles willem accidently drops the pinecones “oops, looks like i need to practice more. . .”

Paint-pot calliaphone is startled once again, this time by the sudden pattering of pine-cones all around. she looks up, wild-eyed, and sees a kitty in a tree. she's being TAILED.

Returning Contestant charles willem looks down “sorry! my bad.”

Paint-pot calliaphone says, “HolyMacaroni! The LAW!” and throws the cart into gear. then, without daring to look over her shoulder, she starts pedalling for the gates, swerving all over to avoid the holes.

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