After about a day of aimless wandering, Kyle came across a small village
that they had already passed through. At least he had ended up somewhere
where he was familiar with the terrian and what not. He took a small, 5
minute tour, which basically covered the whole area. He soon came across a
small market.
"Oh, thank Gods..."
He walked in, smiling in his friendly, Kyle like manner. The Shopkeep smiled right back.
"What can I do ya for, sir?" asked the hunched over little man behind the counter. He looked kind of like Santa Claus would, if he lost two-hundred pounds.
Kyle dropped some coins on the counter. "I'd like to buy five cans of spam, please!" He smiled stupidly.
The shopkeep looked at him as if he were insane, the way Borgoff had. In fact, he had been getting that look a lot lately, and didn't like it one bit. Maybe his brain had deteriorated from boredom or heat? He didn't know, but whatever happened, no one seemed to quite like it.
"We have no... spam, young man. May I ask what it is and supply a substitute?"
Kyle frowned.
"It's.. like... ground up pork, with lots of sodium nitrate..."
The little man stood in thought a moment, not quite sure what sodium nitrate was. All he did was sell the foods, not make it. After what had been a long, awkward and uneventful pause, he shuffled to the back of the room, and stayed there even longer than he had paused. Kyle stood impatiently fiddling with a small pocket knife that the man had left by the counter.
At last, he shuffled out with something in a round plastic wrapping. Kyle studied it a moment.
"This sausage is pre-cooked, and it's made completely of pork! It's a traveller's delight, and you look like a traveller."
Kyle stared down at the sausage, now loathing it even more than he had before. It was even the same brand that Borgoff loved!! He pushed the sausage away, and it rolled and bounced onto the floor uneventfully. It seemed to look up at him and whimper, but of course, it hadn't. Kyle looked around the store, and saw some flasks. He had left his on the tank, and was pretty thirsty. He snatched one up, bought it, and left.
He commenced his aimless wanderings, and soon found another, somewhat larger village that neighboored just about a mile from the small one. He thought that they were bigger, they must have some spam! He walked in happily, and soon found another small general store. He walked in, and saw another hunched over man, identical to the store he had just been in not a few hours ago. His jaw hung slack, and after a few moments of looking around and seeing that the store was identical as well, he thought he better ask about it.
"Um... weren't you just over in that other village?"
The man sighed deeply, as if Kyle had brought up a rather painful and resentful situation.
"That over there... is my brother. The slimy bastard went over to the hick village leaving me alone to care for our sick brother, who died, thank you very much."
Kyle stared at him a moment, and shook his head.
"That dosen't explain why your stores are identical."
The man looked at him, and laughed. "I had no idea that they were identical. Freaky coincidence, I suppose." He grinned a toothy, ugly grin.
"Ah... Well, I need some Spam."
The man stood in thought, similar to the way the last man had.
"Spam.. spam... ah yes, spam!! I have that. We just got a shipment today!"
Kyle's eyes lit up like a puppy who was being let out to play in the yard after being locked up all week. "Really? How much?? I'll take 5 cans!"
"Sure, sure, hold on..."
He shuffled to the back of the room, the same way his brother had.
And, in the same way his brother had, he was back there quite awhile. Kyle noticed the exact same pocket knife, in the exact same position by the cash register. He looked at it dumbly... not quite understanding this coincidence. It was just too freaky. Nevertheless, he picked up the knife and began playing with it until the man came back out with his spam.
"There ya go, sonny. That'll be $16.00 there."
Kyle sifted through a small satchel that he had grabbed before he left, and pulled out a few coins, and scatterd them on the counter.
"Keep the change."
The man stared in disbelief down at the coins, and jaw had seemed to drop three feet from his skull.
"Young man!! This is over two-hundred dollars!"
By the time he had said it, Kyle was already off in search of Borgoff.
In a village to far from the point of interest to matter, Suzanne was filing her nails. Kyle didn't notice.
"Oh, thank Gods..."
He walked in, smiling in his friendly, Kyle like manner. The Shopkeep smiled right back.
"What can I do ya for, sir?" asked the hunched over little man behind the counter. He looked kind of like Santa Claus would, if he lost two-hundred pounds.
Kyle dropped some coins on the counter. "I'd like to buy five cans of spam, please!" He smiled stupidly.
The shopkeep looked at him as if he were insane, the way Borgoff had. In fact, he had been getting that look a lot lately, and didn't like it one bit. Maybe his brain had deteriorated from boredom or heat? He didn't know, but whatever happened, no one seemed to quite like it.
"We have no... spam, young man. May I ask what it is and supply a substitute?"
Kyle frowned.
"It's.. like... ground up pork, with lots of sodium nitrate..."
The little man stood in thought a moment, not quite sure what sodium nitrate was. All he did was sell the foods, not make it. After what had been a long, awkward and uneventful pause, he shuffled to the back of the room, and stayed there even longer than he had paused. Kyle stood impatiently fiddling with a small pocket knife that the man had left by the counter.
At last, he shuffled out with something in a round plastic wrapping. Kyle studied it a moment.
"This sausage is pre-cooked, and it's made completely of pork! It's a traveller's delight, and you look like a traveller."
Kyle stared down at the sausage, now loathing it even more than he had before. It was even the same brand that Borgoff loved!! He pushed the sausage away, and it rolled and bounced onto the floor uneventfully. It seemed to look up at him and whimper, but of course, it hadn't. Kyle looked around the store, and saw some flasks. He had left his on the tank, and was pretty thirsty. He snatched one up, bought it, and left.
He commenced his aimless wanderings, and soon found another, somewhat larger village that neighboored just about a mile from the small one. He thought that they were bigger, they must have some spam! He walked in happily, and soon found another small general store. He walked in, and saw another hunched over man, identical to the store he had just been in not a few hours ago. His jaw hung slack, and after a few moments of looking around and seeing that the store was identical as well, he thought he better ask about it.
"Um... weren't you just over in that other village?"
The man sighed deeply, as if Kyle had brought up a rather painful and resentful situation.
"That over there... is my brother. The slimy bastard went over to the hick village leaving me alone to care for our sick brother, who died, thank you very much."
Kyle stared at him a moment, and shook his head.
"That dosen't explain why your stores are identical."
The man looked at him, and laughed. "I had no idea that they were identical. Freaky coincidence, I suppose." He grinned a toothy, ugly grin.
"Ah... Well, I need some Spam."
The man stood in thought, similar to the way the last man had.
"Spam.. spam... ah yes, spam!! I have that. We just got a shipment today!"
Kyle's eyes lit up like a puppy who was being let out to play in the yard after being locked up all week. "Really? How much?? I'll take 5 cans!"
"Sure, sure, hold on..."
He shuffled to the back of the room, the same way his brother had.
And, in the same way his brother had, he was back there quite awhile. Kyle noticed the exact same pocket knife, in the exact same position by the cash register. He looked at it dumbly... not quite understanding this coincidence. It was just too freaky. Nevertheless, he picked up the knife and began playing with it until the man came back out with his spam.
"There ya go, sonny. That'll be $16.00 there."
Kyle sifted through a small satchel that he had grabbed before he left, and pulled out a few coins, and scatterd them on the counter.
"Keep the change."
The man stared in disbelief down at the coins, and jaw had seemed to drop three feet from his skull.
"Young man!! This is over two-hundred dollars!"
By the time he had said it, Kyle was already off in search of Borgoff.
In a village to far from the point of interest to matter, Suzanne was filing her nails. Kyle didn't notice.
