A LUMBERBANDIT ENCOUNTER
No, Richard.
Instead, PRIME’s cameras cut to a darkened corridor, featureless save for wisps of smoke. A silhouette slowly approaches from the darkness, and when he speaks, it’s very clear who it is.
Coral Avalon: Cancer Jiles.
The last time Coral Avalon appeared in this way, he’d been painted up for war. Not so much this time. In fact, he’s not even in his leonine entrance gear. He’s just in a T-shirt and jeans. Forehead’s still the same, though.
Coral Avalon: I know you’re not paying attention to me right now. So, really, I know that this is just me talking to empty air.
He smiles.
Coral Avalon: In other words, you’ll miss my friendly warning. A shame.
His smile fades, though his expression suggests that this isn’t as much of a shame as Coral would have you believe. There’s no such thing as a “poker forehead”.
Coral Avalon: You had your heart set on a King becoming a Bandit. And I get it, really, I do. I’m a lot more accomplished around here than your usual crowd, like Bobby and TV’s Peacemaker and, uh… wait, what was his name again?
His stony façade fades as he looks like he’s really trying to remember someone’s name.
Coral Avalon: Lunchbreak Leopold?
You’d think Coral would remember since he faced him earlier this year, but, well… apparently not.
Coral Avalon: No, that’s probably not his name. Dammit, nevermind. I’m getting off track.
He sighs, looking up at the ceiling.
Coral Avalon: My point is, Jiles, if you want me to be a Bandit… you can’t just say I’m a Bandit. That’s too easy. No, you have to earn me. You have to… NO! Not this again! I’m in the dungeon for a reason!
Suddenly, there is a commotion, and a boisterous mob of people make their way through Coral’s shot. They are all talking and arguing amongst themselves, oblivious to the goings on around them. Some of them are noticeable. Some of them are not. One of the men who is, happens to be Robert Dean.
Bobby Dean: Where the heck is he? He told us to get here early so we could go over the entrance one last time, but he’s not here.
Laser: What room did he say the eGG Den was in again?
Chris Chickentenders: Pretty sure he said it was in Mom’s dressing room.
Bobby Dean: Wait. Is this even the right night? Leave it to me to show up on the wrong night.
The mob goes quiet.
Coral, who happens to be privy to all of this taking place because it is conveniently happening right in front of him, attempts to quell the confusion.
Coral Avalon: If you’re looking for who I think you are, then you guys got the wrong night.
An awkward tension takes over, as the mob, aka, the Lumberbandits, notice who it is that’s talking to them.
Bobby Dean: This is night one, isn’t it?
Coral Avalon: Yes, it is.
The Bandits, sans Bobby and Coral, all groan because they listened to Bobby Dean. Par for the course.
Bobby Dean: Damn, well, sorry to have ruined your shot.
Coral Avalon: No big deal.
Bobby Dean: Cool.
The awkward silence from before where nobody knew if there was going to be a fight or not quickly comes back. This time around it is the sound of Bobby’s cell phone ringing that breaks the tension. Luckily for all it wasn’t a fart. Robert fishes out his phone from his pocket, checks the number and immediately looks at Coral. He holds the phone up to reveal it’s Jiles, aka KING CRUMB in Bob’s phone, who is probably watching this whole thing go down from the comforts of where ever the fuck he is.
Bobby Dean: I think it’s for you.
The Crownless King smiles, but shakes his head no.
Coral Avalon: Do me a favor then and tell him I’ll talk to him tomorrow night.
The Man from Honalee frowns.
Bobby Dean: Fine. That’s not very Bandit-like, you know.
Coral laughs, and then begins to walk away.
Coral Avalon: Maybe after tomorrow night, I’ll give a f–.
A collective gasp can be heard from the Banditjacks. What can not be heard though, is Bobby’s phone ringing.
It would appear as if Jiles had hung up.