IT WASN’T THAT HARD TO GET A SWORD, TAL
Deep within the halls of the Footprint Center in Phoenix, AZ, The Muse is busy unboxing merchandise and loading her PRIMEporium wares off of a pallet and onto a 6 wheel cart.
She furrows her brows as she reads a box written in crayon that says “NOT STANDING 4 JON TEE SHIRTS,” and opens the box, which clearly is exactly what it states it is not. After throwing the box in a garbage bin, she looks up and waves as Eddie Cross walks up.
Anna Daniels: How’s it going, Ed?
Whichever of the Multitudes is leading tonight is trying to keep things casual, given all the chaos that is sure to ensue.
Eddie Cross: It’s good. You seen Gamble? I have a fist-sized present for him.
As if to emphasize the point, he holds up his hand and curls it into a fist, then stereotypically cracks his knuckles for effect.
Anna Daniels: No. But if you want to wreck something in the meantime, you can always dig his shitty t-shirts out of the trash.
The vessel points to the trash can.
Anna Daniels: And you shouldn’t be cracking your knuckles. Too cliché. Not to mention your hands pay the price for it later.
In a way, she’s relieved that his focus is on Gamble. Fuck knows this boy has a tendency of jumping into stuff that isn’t really his problem. And making too many enemies too quickly would only get his ass kicked down the line.
Eddie looks at the trash then back to The Muse.
Eddie Cross: That sounds like a problem for future me. Right now, the only thing I am worried about my hands paying the price for is messing up Tony’s face more than it already is.
Anna can’t help but smile as she stocks up on the ever increasing mounds of t-shirts and miscellaneous nonsense to sell. She hastily throws some Kohime Mori Frozen Pork Buns (“Your mouth don’t want none unless it’s pork buns, hun!”) in the microwave and begins the cooking process.
Anna Daniels: Listen, it’s great that you’re keeping your focus on who you need to. Honestly, given some of the stuff around here, we were a bit worried about that. But you gotta save that shit up for when you get him in the ring.
Anna Daniels: Or at least when you get him alone. You know as well as we do he has his mooks on standby. He wants you to come after him now that he thinks he has the upper hand. We won’t always be around to help, so don’t charge yourself into an ambush if you can help it.
Of course, there’s always a doubt that he can help it. He’s a youngster with a lot to learn still. Besides, even some oldheads never learned that lesson. The timer on the food nuking machine goes off.
Anna Daniels: But if you’re going to do it anyway, at least attempt to be aware of your surroundings and get the first swing in so you don’t look like a coward.
The pork buns are offered on a paper plate. She motions the plate towards him.
Anna Daniels: Want one?
He shakes his head at the pork buns and relies with his gravelly voice.
Eddie Cross: I suppose you are right. But I’m not likely to get him one on one unless I get Lindsay to agree to ban GAS from the ring.
Suddenly he has a look of either having a great idea or perhaps he shouldn’t have had that burrito for lunch.
Eddie Cross: If I can prove to LT that the odds are never going to be in my favor, maybe she will make them a little more even.
There’s a shrug from the Muse as she chomps into a pork bun. Frozen can never be quite as good as fresh, but they come close. She swallows.
Anna Daniels: We would think it would be obvious, right? Even with Morty and us out of the mix, as we should be, it would still be…what? Three on one with those laughing matter goons lurking about? In the words of a wise man, the numbers don’t lie and they spell disaster for you.
And somewhere in the distance, you might be able to hear a man rambling about genetic freaks and booty daddies and FAAAAT ASSES. If the owls pop up, just say he’s talking about Jared Sykes or something. She shakes her head.
Anna Daniels: Then again, she might’ve been busy with the other eight hundred acres of bullshit to spot this even with her flurry of murder owls. So how are you going to make her notice this problem?
He shrugs and pulls his fist up again.
Eddie Cross: So, there is this really old movie where the main guy says “I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Except the him in this case is a her? I haven’t worked that part of the analogy out yet.
He grabs one of the pork buns and takes a bite. Not bad. He paces a bit before swallowing and continuing.
Eddie Cross: I don’t know Lindsay real well, but I do know she isn’t a fan of Gamble. However, I think she IS a fan of seeing him get his ass kicked. The way I see it, the only way I am going to prove that I won’t ever get to him while they are around is to actually go after him.
The vessel’s brows raise for a moment. It’s a stupid idea. But sometimes, you have to be stupid to get your point across.
Anna Daniels: If by our life and death we can protect you, we will.
She snatches her pork bun and wanders to the shadowy backrooms of the PRIMEporium. Munching on the food some more, the Intense champion scrounges through her black market backstock of deathmatch weaponry. He’ll need something he can wield halfway decently, light, and somewhat easy to hide. Finally, her hand snags a kendo stick from the bargain bin of kendo sticks. Swallowing the last of the bun, she marches back to the pondering Edward and hands the stick to him.
Anna Daniels: You have our sword.
Settle down, Aragorn. This ain’t even that serious.
He blinks twice as he looks down and takes the weapon.
Eddie Cross: But the Kendo Stick is analogous for a katana, not a two handed long sword so this is more like… oh what is it that MacLeod guy is always saying on that show Dave likes? “There can be only one?”
He swings it in the air and imagines leaving a wake of samurai behind him like Yojimbo. It’ll do.
Eddie Cross: Either way, I gotta go see a man about a scar.