Dead oobs. Dead crops. Great. Thanks, grandpa.
Tylor moved through the field and towards the decrepit-looking shack of a house. Literally on its last legs, with boarded up windows that would do nothing to stop the cold when it came. Yeah, this place would need some serious work. Even the roof was on the verge of collapse.
Tylor tossed his belongings on the cot and shut the door. No lights, no unlit candles, nothing. Not even a fireplace. Tylor huffed and threw the rest of himself on the cot.
And slept till morning.
An obnoxious knock on his door took the rest of his sleep. Begrudgingly, he rose to answer.
"How do!" a woman greeted him, and her outfit was louder than the sunlight streaming through his door.
"Hi.." Tylor said, rubbing his eyes.
"Tylor wuzzit?"
"Yeah."
"So happy to meet ya'! I'm the mayor in this happy little hideaway we call Badgetown. Could I interest you in a lolli?"
Mayor Tinstle held out a rainbow swirl lolli with no plastic packaging.
"Um. No offense, but where was that being stored?" Tylor inquired.
"Not stored, silly. Carried!"
Tylor stared at the lolli, not showing the slightest interest. Maybe she'd get the message and move on.
"I may have tasted it just a little bit," the mayor admitted.
That's so gross. What the fuck?
He considered shutting the door in her face. But she was mayor.
"Sure, I could go for a lolli," Tylor lied, taking the damn thing.
Mayor Tinstle bobbed up and down, beaming with joy. "That's the ticker! Most people just say no! Ahh, I can tell already we'll be getting along amazingly. The folk in town could use a little spirit-liftin', perhaps you'll be the one to bring it!"
"Perhaps," Tylor said, not as sure.
"I'll be seeing you Tylor! And be sure to escalate any needs to me directly, and I can get ya' helped out."
"Safe travels, mayor," Tylor said, in parting.
Tinstle laughed and raised a knee to slap it. "Badgetown's always safe. But I 'preciate it."
Tylor gave her a thumbs up and shut the door. Before cracking the door and slamming it again, because the first time hadn't felt like enough.
I'll be fine here, even if the mayor's nuts. It's a good town, far away from it all.
It still took a minute of shirt clenching before his breathing was normal.
Fuck. He'd really been woken for a pointless visit.
Tylor rolled back into bed and slept till noon. Out of spite.
As he was searching around for fresh clothes, he noticed a pair of bulging eyes peeking through a window. An ooblet with a smile so wide it stretched out the lower half of its head. Tylor rushed to the back of the shack and rapped his knuckles on the glass, switching to fist pounding when the spuddle didn't leave. The spuddle stared point-blank at the violence, and rose pink eyelids blinked once. No reaction.
"Get, you creepy little fucker, get!" Tylor shouted.
He slapped the glass, bare-handed, and the whole window shifted. Spuddle bolted to dodge falling shards of glass, but Tylor wasn't so lucky.
"Fuck! Fucking spuddle! That-!"
A split-second thought had Tylor running for the door. A new resolve.
Those short spuddly legs can't run worth shit.
Out the front door, then around to the back. Tylor sprinted for the edge of the yard where dead crops became a thriving wilderness of thrush and bushes. Spuddle was just ahead, making weird bloop sounds and waddling with haste.
"Bloop blap, motherf- gotcha!"
Tylor scooped up the spuddle, then chucked them like a football, out into wilderness. Spuddle's blooping became a continuous blaaaaaah as they went flying.
It wasn't that he hated oobs. He really liked a handful he'd known back in Shae, like the derpy lumpstump that stood outside the market, never leaving the spot. He also owned a Bibbin shirt, and Nuppos were cool. But they weren't exactly human, so there was this big communication barrier that was constantly up, that made interacting with some oobs really exhausting. Others were creepers who spied in people's windows.
Tylor returned to his shack, and finished getting ready for the day. Fresh clothes, fresh shave, a bit of whiskey. He huffed loudly and gave his jeans a pat. All set.
Badgetown was a short walk away. Tylor blacked most of the journey out, so all of Badgetown sort of appeared without him noticing. He stopped along the path, taking it in.
Badgetown looked nice.
"Ha, lame. You and I are both dressed like farmers, only, I'm being ironic about it."
Tylor turned to the guy who'd spoken. A twiggy ginger shmuck who looked nothing like a farmer. Besides the denim clothes and farmer's tan.
"What, do you hate farmers or something?" Tylor asked.
"Eh. No? I dunno. Why? Are you one of them?"
"What's your name, kid?" Tylor asked.
"Um. Ehh?"
"Do you have a father? Where does he live?"
"The fuck?"
"I'd like to speak to him."
"Well you can't. That's absurd."
Tylor considered his options, and decided to scare the guy. He resumed walking. There were some stairs along the path that went up a hill, and the ginger schmuck was seated there, blocking half of the path. Tylor power-walked up the stairs, blowing past him.
"Don't stay long!" The guy shouted after him. Tylor did his best to shrug it off, but it still irked him.
The hot air balloon was a sight for old eyes. It had been almost ten years since he'd seen one. How young had he been then? Thirteen?
The girl operating the balloon didn't look very trustworthy, so he steered clear.
He passed another chick, much cuter. But she was tall, almost as tall as him. Not his type.
"Hey!" She greeted him as he passed.
Tylor stopped just outside the walkway to her house. The tall girl was hanging around in her lawn.
"Hi," Tylor said.
"Something bothering you?" Tall asked.
Tylor stared, a little dumbfounded. "Uh, why?"
"Just noticed! I don't mean to pry, or assume for that matter. Just saying," Tall explained.
Tylor thought about that for a moment, then chuckled. "Well don't assume, then."
"I... oh? I can leave you alone if you'd prefer."
"What, am I bothering you?" Tylor suggested.
"A little? I'm more concerned about bothering you. Seem like an alright guy, I don't want to ruin your day."
"Then don't," Tylor said, and he kept walking. The girl said nothing as he went.
She was actually pretty friendly. Maybe I could get used to this town. Good air, good hospitality.
"Hey, uh, new guy?" Tall called to him.
Tylor turned, gearing up to respond, when a spuddle latched onto him with its teeth. Tylor shouted and backed away, flailing his leg until the spuddle went flying. Spuddle rolled, delivered a garbled screech, and then charged again.
"What the fuck?" Tall remarked.
Spuddle wobbled towards him at max speed. Tylor reeled his foot back like he was readying to punt a ball.
"Don't!" Tall shouted.
At the last second, spuddle leaped, crashing into Tylor's chest and latching on. Tylor grabbed spuddle by the head, and the creature lit up, glowing like a hand over a flashlight.
He felt a much bigger hand squeeze his own head in just the same way, but... was that spuddle doing it?
Spuddle was biting his shirt, so he removed it, bunching it around spuddle until he was holding a thrashing black mass. Tylor grabbed a bunch of fabric and pulled it all together, before tying a knot to secure the spuddle.
Spuddle's efforts began to weaken as their air supply depleted. Tall was approaching from the side.
"Need help freeing that ooblet?" Tall asked.
"Uh, no," Tylor said.
"I don't want to see it come to harm," Tall expressed.
"Then look away," Tylor remarked. "It harmed me first."
"Okay..." Tall breathed. "What if you passed it off to me, and went on your way. I'm pretty good with oobs, especially weird dudes like spuddle."
"He'll come back. I'm telling you, this spuddle has it out for me."
"Ooblets don't typically resort to violence..." Tall trailed off.
Unless they feel threatened.
Tylor was disgusted at the implications of that.
"What's your name?" Tylor asked.
"Arah."
"Ok Arah," Tylor said, and he tossed her the shirt. "Keep this spuddle far away from my farm."
"Oh! You're the new farmer?" Arah asked, as she began to unwind the knot.
"Goodbye, Arah," Tylor said.
He headed back, after that, to get a new shirt from his house. A few nosy people stopped to look at him as he went. The ginger schmuck wasn't one of them; probably ran home to hide.
When he'd made it back home, he noticed a lump under his welcome mat. He slid it out of place to reveal a flattened radlad. Beet-red skin had faded, and was caked in mud and scrapes.
What is going on here. Dead ooblets in the field, dead oob here, spuddles that want to kill me?
It felt ominous, like he was being told to cut his losses and leave the farm. He didn't want to though. After all, they were just oobs. Most of them were pretty fucking small. Even if a bunch of them came for Tylor, it wouldn't... he had two guns, and he was built for this. No, there really wasn't much to fear.
He could take them.