Lockjaw

OMG! This story can (and is about to) fit into game canon! Life is complete!

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Charlie had spent three hours looking around Rubacava, looking for one person in particular to help his plan progress. And yet, he couldn't find her anywhere.

How difficult was it for someone, who always seemed to wear high heels and could be seen from 600 paces, to be found in Rubacava, where everyone seemed to know her? And yet, she was still nowhere to be seen.

Deciding that the last three hours he'd spent walking around the city was far too much work for his own good, Charlie slumped onto the bridge wall and panted for breath. The only place he hadn't thought of looking was Membrillo's, and surely she hadn't got sprouted… had she?

However, when all hope seemed to be lost, and he was about to head home- try and get inside without getting chased for rent money with the mop, he saw something that gave him the will to sit outside at this chilly time in the evening, still rubbing his sore bones.

Far in the distance, he could see a large, somewhat stupid hat looming on the horizon.

There were a few ways he could try and use this situation to his advantage. He could use his powers of female persuasion to make her fall in love with him and do everything he wanted… or not, act as he usually did and screw everything up, or pretend to be endearing and sympathising, and twist her that way. Come to think of it, the second one would probably be the best way to take this.

"Lola, chica…" he said, walking up to her. She simply stood there thoughtful for a minute.

"Did you get me a pass yet, Charlie? You said you would." Although Lola did a lot of dealings in the Cat Track, taking photos and the like for publicity postcards, she didn't have a pass into the High Rollers lounge. This effectively meant she couldn't see Maximino as much as she would like, and had asked Charlie if he could get her one. What she hadn't really realised was that Charlie didn't intend to: at least, not until he got what he wanted.

"Lola, I'll get you the pass, I just need a favour in return…"

"You said that before, didn't you, Charlie? And you still haven't got the pass for me. I've got some twilight photos to take. See you around." She went to walk off, uninterested, but he stopped her. In truth, Charlie would be willing to grovel on his hands and knees, get his only suit muddy, and worship her as God most high if she'd do this for him. But he'd start with just asking, as politely as someone like him could manage.

"I need your help, Lola. Olivia's doing something behind Max's back, and I need your help to tell him. I need a photograph." He leant up to whisper in her ear (whilst whacking his skull on the brim of the awkward construction that constituted as a hat at the same time), and as he continued, her facial expressions went through suspicion to anger and finally did a complete turnaround to hit pity.

"Oh, poor Max! And you want me to get a photo of them, Charlie?" Twilight photo session apparently forgotten, Lola listened to the plan (which, although so overly simplistic that it could go wrong at several levels- it didn't take into account that not everything was swings and roundabouts in the world, and as it was Charlie's idea , not that good a scheme in the first place), and thought about it. "If I get this photo, I can show him that Olivia's not the skeleton he thinks she is, and maybe he'll dump her and go onto other people. Like me…" Still enraptured in this thought, she tottered away across the bridge, and over to the Blue Casket. Charlie watched her go (or more precisely, watched her hat bob up and down as she walked), and one thought went through his head.

Money on the Chowchilla train, coming right up…