She had to admit, he looked nice. The regular purple and blue outfit had been replaced with a suit in the same colours. Wren had even managed to convince him to wear a tie, although she'd had to promise to watch some cooking shows before he'd do it. His hair was slicked back and shiny, and a gold pocketwatch chain glinted from his left pocket.
For her part, Wren hadn't changed. Robbie had made it clear that she was in charge of holding the Robbiedog 2000, and of being the bait when it became demonstration time. Her old black jumper would suit the job just fine. Robbie had given her a new ribbon for her hair, though. He'd insisted that it was only because her old one was looking worn, but the fine border of lace on its edges belied his pragmatism. Wren smiled to herself as she tied the ribbon securely in place.
"This is no time to be grinning like a deranged lunatic," Robbie grumbled. He struck a final pose in front of his mirror, then sent it up into the ceiling. "They'll be here any minute."
As if fate had heard him, a loud clang reverberated through the workshop. Robbie looked horrified, but Wren grinned in excitement. "I'll get it!" she said, running to the workshop's hatch. "You stay here and look important!"
Wren scampered up the ladder and thrust open the door. She poked her head out. "Helloandwelcometotheworkshopof...of..." words failed her as she looked up--and up, and up--at their guest.
A monstrous man loomed over her. He was wearing a pristine black suit and a pair of sunglasses. He was pale, like her, and bald. His expression was impassive, as if he came to underground workshops every day.
"I hope we are at the address of Mister Rotten?"
Wren blinked, startled that the man could speak without moving his lips, then realised that there were two people at the door. She looked down, and found the source of the voice. A small man of perhaps four feet gave her a smile like an oil slick. He was dressed in a series of orange and green layers, giving him an eye-straining look that she could only describe as "radioactive". His black hair was sharply tied back in a ponytail, and his eyes were such a dark brown that they looked black. He carried a ebony cane with a piece of amber on the end. Wren thought she saw something trapped in the amber, but he closed his hand over the end before she could get a good look.
"Um," she stammered, trying to regain her composure. "Yes, sir. May I see you in?"
The small man nodded, and as a group they made their way back down into the workshop. Wren was sure to keep her gaze down as she offered to take their coats--they declined--and saw them into the main room.
"Mister Rotten?" she said, as she'd been instructed to. "Sir, you have guests."
Robbie twirled around on his fluffy orange chair, looking like the epitome of the unconcerned libertine. He managed to keep up the façade for several moments before his gaze fell upon the shorter man. When that occurred, he made a sound that was half-cough, half-wheeze, and rose from his chair. "Y-you!"
Wren, confused, looked back and forth between Robbie and the newcomers. The tall man still looked as if he could be asleep behind those sunglasses, while the shorter one only smiled more broadly.
"Robbie Rotten," he said, stretching the vowels until it came out as an insult. He had a faint accent that Wren couldn't place, but she decided that she didn't like it. It wasn't friendly like Sportacus'.
"Imagine how surprised we were at the Ministry to receive a letter from you," the man continued. He passed his cane to the taller man and began to pinch off his snowy white gloves one finger at a time. "That is, a letter that wasn't filled with the usual drivel. We'd almost given up on reading them, to be honest. Then you send us something truly interesting."
Robbie looked as if he'd inhaled a goldfish. His eyes darted to one side of the workshop, then the other, but they were standing in front of the only easy escape. He swallowed mightily, and tried to regain his look of confidence.
"Malory Malevolent."
"Oh, tut. Just Malory to my friends, Rob," Malory admonished. "You should know that." He finished with his gloves and tucked them into a pocket. He waved one hand vaguely over his shoulder. "And this is the Mallory Automaton, version three."
Robbie glanced at Wren, and she snapped her mouth shut when she saw his eyebrow twitch. Perhaps this wasn't a good time to ask what the other robot's name was.
He turned his attention back to Malory.
"You were an Evil Cohort the last time I saw you," Robbie said. "You've been promoted."
"Yeeees," Malory drawled. "The Vindictive Vole decided that he'd be better off as a painter, and you know Mary Misery: it was amazing that she held it together long enough to get to High Villain in the first place. It was only a matter of time until I became a full-fledged villain."
"But you're still stuck with an administrative job?" Robbie asked, causing Malory to twitch slightly. "Fascinating, Malory. I'm sure you're well suited to the position."
"Hmph," Malory snorted. He waved at his automaton, who came forward to give him back his cane. When he turned back to Robbie, there was a smile glued to his face. "Now. Let's see this dog of yours, and I'll be on my way."
At a nod from Robbie, Wren hurried to the back of the workshop. There was the sound of a cage squeaking open, then a low scrape as the girl dragged the inanimate Robbiedog back to the small gathering.
Robbie took his cue. With a swaggering step, he circled the Robbiedog with a bravado he usually reserved for private moments of villainous plotting. He described his creation in detail, highlighting everything from its serrated teeth to the extra-bright lightbulb he had installed on its tail.
His audience was less then appreciative. Malory had a haughtiness about him that Wren didn't like. She was proud to see that it wasn't affecting Robbie: despite his initial shock, dealing with these kinds of people seemed to be his secret milieu. Even Malory had to give an impressed snort at some of the Robbiedog's features.
"That's all well and good, Rob," Malory snarled, cutting Robbie off halfway through a description of the robot's fur, "But you've always been all talk. Let's see if this thing will actually do what you say it does."
Robbie glanced down at Wren, who nodded. She knelt down and flicked the Robbiedog's switch into the "ON" position.
The dog immediately shuddered to life. It looked around as if confused, then hunkered down and began to growl menacingly. Malory looked impressed despite himself.
Wren readied herself, making certain that the rope Robbie had set up earlier was within easy reach. She crouched down.
"Trouble!"
The reaction was immediate and violent. The Robbiedog hurled itself toward her, teeth bared as it barked its excitement at doing what it was built to do. Wren waited until it was a few feet away before leaping into the air and grabbing the rope. She hung there like a black-ribboned monkey as the dog circled beneath her, barking and bawling its frustration at having lost its prey.
Malory looked irritated. "Well. It...does seem to do what you say," he spat from around a deep scowl. "I suppose it's worth reporting to the ministry."
"I thought you'd see things my way," Robbie said, pleased with himself. He walked over to flick the Robbiedog's switch into the off position. It immediately dropped its head and went silent.
Malory's expression had changed from irate to pensive by the time Robbie had helped Wren down from her safe spot. He nodded to his own robot, who obediently pulled a small, hard box from a hidden pocket and handed it to Malory.
"Rob...Robbie," Malory said, his tone sleazy. "Here's the thing. Even if the ministry is interested in this mechanical dog of yours, they won't do anything about it but write up a little article in the next Villain's Weekly." He approached Robbie, and opened the box when he was close enough to see what was inside.
Wren was too far back to see what it was, but she did notice that Robbie's jaw had tightened imperceptibly.
"I can offer you something else," Malory continued. "All you have to do is give me that ridiculous hound, and I'll give you this. It's a fair trade, don't you think?"
Robbie was still for a long moment, but when he finally looked back up at Malory, there was a smile in his eyes despite the frown on his lips. "Malory," he drawled. "I should have known. Couldn't make it yourself, so you've been buying out others and taking credit for their inventions. Bra-vo."
Malory's brow twitched. "I'm making you an offer, Rob. You'd be foolish to turn me down."
"I'm not turning you down," Robbie replied. He put one hand out and closed the box gently. "I'm refusing to make a deal with a fool. Now get out of here before I report you to the ministry."
Wren wondered if Robbie had given her the ability to turn the different colours that Malory was turning now. The man snatched back the box and threw it at his automaton, who caught it deftly and stashed it away.
"Fine," Malory snarled. He turned on his heel and headed for the exit. "Don't say I didn't try to be fair." He paused with one hand on the ladder's rail. "Get the dog."
Robbie barely had time to shout before Malory's automaton had the Robbiedog in its massive arms. He curled his hands into fists. "Malory, you lying weasel!" he shouted, knowing better than to attack such a gigantic machine. "I'll have you brought before the ministry for this!"
"Oh, tut, Rob...who are they going to beli--hey! HEY!"
Wren either didn't have Robbie's sense, or she wasn't afraid of the automaton. The girl had leapt onto the bigger robot's back and was scrabbling with one hand at the Robbiedog as she tried to hang on with the other. The robot was bewildered, and stumbled backwards as it tried to adjust to its attacker.
Perhaps because of its stumble, Wren's outstretched fingers snagged on the Robbiedog's switch. The dog's eyes lit up, and it began to growl softly.
"Trouble!" Wren shouted as loud as she could. She wrapped her arms around the automaton's neck as her legs wound around his chest. "Troubletroubletrouble!"
The bigger robot grunted as the Robbiedog attached itself to its face. Its arms flailed wildly as it staggered about, overwhelmed by girl and dog. Wren kept shouting "trouble!", enraging the Robbiedog further.
"Get OFF it!" Malory shrieked. He took a few steps forward, then flicked open the top of his amber cane and pressed a series of buttons there. The automaton briefly shuddered to a halt, then began to move with more deliberation. It reached up to pull the dog off its neck with one hand, and grabbed Wren with the other. Dog and girl wriggled madly in the robot's grip.
"Bring the dog. Toss the girl," Malory ordered. The automaton tossed Wren to one side like a rag doll, and she struck a shelf with a resounding clang.
"...clang?"
"Wren!" Robbie shouted, hurrying to examine the fallen girl. She blinked blearily up at him, and reached up to push her hair out of her face.
"Oh," she murmured, as she realised that part of her skull had come away. She'd never been able to repair it properly, and now it had fallen over one eye. Robbie helped her pull it away, disentangling it with gentle fingers from the rest of Wren's curls.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, it's the clip..."
"But your hair..."
"It's only hair, Robbie..."
The pair suddenly realised that Malory was still waiting. Robbie shot upright and whirled on his enemy. "Take the dog! Just take the dog and get out!"
But Malory didn't move. A slow smile of delight crossed his face as he surveyed the scene before him, and he began to drum his fingers thoughtfully on his cane. "Rob," he breathed. "You created a robot with feelings."
To Wren's surprise, the colour drained from Robbie's face. He gaped at Malory. "You...you can't. She's not for that!"
"She!" Malory crowed gleefully. "Priceless! Here I thought that you'd hired a local girl, or perhaps even fathered a little Rotten of your own, but you went and built a little companion all for yourself! Oh, don't fret. I'm sure I'll find some evil use for her that you just haven't thought of."
"You can't!" Robbie stammered. He took a step back, and one hand went to hover protectively over Wren. "Take the dog, Malory. You can't have her!"
"Get them both," Malory ordered his automaton.
Wren shrieked as the robot pushed Robbie to one side and grabbed her by the front of her dress. "Robbie! Robbie!"
"Wren!"
Wren wriggled and bit and pounded at the robot's hand with all her strength, but it refused to let go. It lowered her for a moment, and she readied herself for an escape, but the face of Malory made her stop.
He gave her a cheery grin. Wren opened her mouth to shout at him when she felt cool fingers scrabbling at the back of her neck.
And then the world went dark.