Contractually Obligated
Smitty killed the engine to his truck after he parked behind the building. He sat in his car for a few minutes to see if anyone one was watching. The coast appeared clear, so Smitty hopped out of the driver's side door. He made his way to the back door. Testing the handle, he found it unlocked.
"Good," Smitty muttered to no one in particular. "The kid kept up the first half of his bargain. Let's see if that punk held up the other half."
As he opened the door, Smitty pulled out and turned on a large flashlight. The smell of stale pizza, dirty laundry, and unwashed feet hung in the air like a corpse, bothering Smitty. He began walking, past the arcade machines until he found the other half of the bargain.
On one of the tables sat a pizza and a pitcher of beer. Smitty grabbed a slice and took a sip straight from the pitcher. Even though the pizza was cold and the beer flat, he smiled, as the Glamour released from a Pledge fulfilled wafted over him. The kid will be surprised in the morning when he discovers his bank account is unusually full. Maybe he will even spend his month of fortune wisely. Smitty was doubtful.
Finishing a second slice and another gulp of beer, Smitty set out to do what he came to do. Fumbling around, he found the power switch and turned it on.
Instantly, the room came to life. Video games thrummed on, demanding the player's tokens. Signs lit up, hawking the wares of the restaurant. An animatronic band sprung to life.
Smitty sat still; eating, drinking and watching the band sing about the delicious pizza the restaurant had to offer. He disagreed about the quality, but kept that to himself.
As the band shilled the food, Smitty stared into their lifeless eyes. He watched carefully their herky-jerky manner. He studied their erratic, mechanical movements. In his mind, he broke down how exactly they were animated: the structure of their frame, the articulation of their servos, and the motors that were running the whole operation. He noted how each of the five robots each had their own unique character and idiosyncrasies.
The band finished their first song. Smitty politely applauded before he shoved another slice of pizza into his mouth and took another swallow of beer. The band began to play their second song. Smitty continued his observation. The effect was hypnotic; almost meditative. Perhaps it was the beer or something more Wyrd in nature, but Smitty's head began to swirl lightly.
Sometime during the second verse, the lead singer, the large anthropomorphic mouse, turned to Smitty and looked into his eyes. Gone was the lifelessness. There was now something more alive. Something animated The music stopped as the rest of the band turned and looked at the mouse. Smitty held his breath.
"Good evening Jack Smith," the mouse intoned.
Smitty returned the pleasantry. "Evening."
"What brings you here to speak with me this night?"
"I come to you tonight to entreat you. I am ready and willing to sign to your Contract."
"And by what right do you entreat me, Lost? Under whose authority should I be bound to add you to the Contract struck long ago?"
"Well you should know, that when my Keeper changed me, I became party to this Contract as a Wizened. I am entitled to the agreement made long ago in Arcadia."
"Truly you speak, Jack Smith. Very well then. You may have access to the first three clauses of my Contract. All you need to do is seal it with blood."
Smitty pulled from his overall's pocket a rose. He grabbed the stem and pulled sharply on his hand. Blood began to trickle down his hand. He shoved the flower back. Smitty walked over to the rodent and placed his hand in its paw. He felt it grasp around his and move up and down. He pulled his hand back. The blood seemed to be absorbed into the synthetic fur, disappearing from sight.
"And so it has been agreed," the mouse uttered. Smitty began to turn back when it spoke again. "One more thing, Clockwork King… The offer of your Arcadian Throne still stands. Your Keeper will give you the land of his conquered enemies."
"Tell my Keeper he can bite my ass. The answer is no."
"If you return now, no harm will befall you. You will be granted title and accolade. All will be given freely. Your return home will be trumpeted."
"I refuse. Rulership there is a slavery of its own. I have suffered enough in both this world and Faerie. I desire no more additional pain."
"All that you have lost will be given you tenfold. You will want for nothing. All the resources to build you would ever need. Men to serve you. Women to comfort you."
Smitty fumed over this last comment. The image of Rose, his beloved late wife, flashed in his mind. "The answer is NO!"
"Thrice it has been offered and thrice it has been refused. I have done all I am obligated to do. So be it. Go in peace Jack Smith. This deal is made."
Smitty grumbled as the mouse turned away from him and once again looked outward with dead eyes. The rest of the band picked up the song where they had left off. Smitty quickly scarfed down the remainder of the pizza and guzzled the last pint of beer left in the pitcher.
Smitty uttered silent curses under his breath as he made his way back to the switches, killing the animation in the room. The noise came to a halt and the place was returned to its original, torpid state.
Smitty pulled out his flashlight again and made his way to the back exit. Making sure that it locked behind him, he pulled the door shut. He climbed back into the drivers seat and turned on the ignition.
Pulling out onto the feeder road, Smitty noticed a police car in his rearview, pulling into the now vacant parking lot of the restaurant. Placated, Smitty turned his eyes back to road and drove home.
While shaken up by the offer, Smitty was satisfied that the deal went off without a hitch. These three clauses of the Contract of Animation were his to use. He knew that whatever the Others had in store, he would make good use of this newfound power. Rose would have wanted it this way.