Eventually, we got close enough to the spot the Snuggly Duckling is, that I stopped our conversation. "It's gotta be around here somewhere," I muttered. "Ah, there it is!" I said, pointing at the sign. "The Snuggly Duckling! A very quaint place. It's perfect for you! We don't want you scared and giving up now, do we?"
Blondie smiled at me. "Well, I do like ducklings!" she exclaimed.
"Yay!" I cheered, sarcastically. If I just keep playing this card, she'll get scared and give me back my satchel. Easy as pie! Three seconds in and she'll want to turn around.
I walk through the door, swinging it as hard as possible for Blondie to get a good look around. "Garcon! You're finest table please!" I called. Strangely enough, she followed me in, staring at all the thugs and ruffians she could see. "You smell that?" I asked. "Take a deep breath, let it seep in." I took a deep breath to show her. "What do you smell? 'Cause I smell part man smell, and the other part is really bad man smell. You know, I don't know why, but the whole thing smell like the color brown. Your thought?"
Blondie began to get very uncomfortable behind me. It's going smoothly. Just a few more seconds and me and my satchel are home free!
One thug picked up Blondie's hair. "That's a lot of hair," he said in a deep, scruffy voice.
"She's growing it out," I replied. I leaned in closer to him. "Is that blood in your mustache? Blondie! Look at all the blood in his mustache!" She ignored me and kept running into the corner.
I walked over to her, playing my innocent guy act again. "Hey, you don't look so good. Maybe we should get you home, call it a day. I mean, this is a five star joint, so if you can't handle this place, you're better off home, you know what I mean?" I said, pulling her along towards the door. She complied.
We were stopped with the door slamming in front of us. "Is this you?" a tall man with horns on his helmet asked. I peeked at the door. On it, he's holding a wanted poster of me. I moved in closer and pulled his finger away. My nose is long, like Pinocchio. "Okay, now they're just being mean," I said.
"It's him all right!" Hook Hand said. "Greno, find some guards! I can use the money to buy me a new hook!" He grabbed me.
"Hey! What about me?" a muscular man with a slotted helmet said, snatching me from Hook Hand. "I could use it!"
"What about me?" a third thug said, snatching me.
"Guys!" I tried. "Hey, can't we all agree?" They looked at each other for a moment, before turning back to me. "No!" they yelled.
"Give me back my guide!" Blondie shouted. The thugs held me to prevent me from moving while Hook Hand powered up a punch. "Not the nose!" I cried. "Not the nose, not the nose!" I moved my head around until the guy who held up the poster held it still. "Please, guys! Let's not do this!"
Suddenly, Hook Hand was hit with something, which made him stop altogether and turn towards Blondie. Well, dang it! I would like to retract my piece of cake statement from before now!
"Put him down!" Blondie yelled. "I don't know where I am, and I need him to take me to see the lanterns I've been dreaming about my whole life! Find your humanity! Haven't any of you ever had a dream?" It became uncomfortably quiet. Hook Hand walked towards Blondie with his hook out. This is it, I'm doomed. I can't watch.
"I had a dream...once," he said. That made me open my eyes. Her stupid speech actually worked? Huh. He threw an axe at the wall, making a guy play an accordion. Oh. It's another song. Just wonderful.
Some guy lifted me up and hung me by my vest. Well, now I can't move. Guess I have to listen now.
"I'm malicious, mean and scary," Hook Hand started. "And my sneer can curdle dairy. And violence wise, my hands are not the cleanest. But despite my evil look, and my temper, and my hook, I've always yearned to be a concert pianist."
A pianist? This guy? The guy with a missing hand who literally replaced it with a HOOK? You have to be kidding me. This is going to be cheesy. "Can't ya see me on the stage performing Mozart, ticklin' the ivories 'till they gleam. Yeah, I'd rather be called deadly for my killer show tune medley." He played some keys and earned himself a few cheers. "Thank you," he said. Then he continued singing. "'Cause way down deep inside I've got a dream!"
"He's got a dream," the guys around me started singing. This is stupid. Why did I agree to this? Oh, yeah. To get my satchel back! At this rate, that'll never happen! I should've known this was going to happen. But, honestly, how often do people randomly burst out in song and dance because some girl asked them a question? Hmm, let me see, never! Oh geez. This is terrible.
"See, I ain't as cruel and vicious as I seem!" Hook Hand continued. "Though I do like breaking femurs, you can count me with the dreamers, like everybody else, I've got a dream." The thugs around me added background vocals. Ugh, this is awful. What is even happening?
"I've got scars and bumps and bruises," Big Nose started next. "And something here that oozes. And let's not even mention my complexion. But despite my extra toes-" he took his shoe off to give an unnecessary visual aid, "-and my goiter and my nose, I really wanna make a love connection."
A bit farfetched, but not terrible. "Can't you see me with a special little lady, rowing in a rowboat down the stream? Though I'm one disgusting blighter, I'm a lover, not a fighter. 'Cause way down deep inside I've got a dream!"
They added backup vocals again. "And I know one day romance will one day reign supreme. Though my face leaves people screaming, there's a child behind it dreaming. Like everybody else, I've got a dream!"
"Tor would like to quit and be a florist," sang one thug. They switched who sang on each line. "Gunther does interior design. Ulf is into mime, Attilla's cupcakes are sublime." So the slotted helmet man makes cupcakes. I'm gonna have to try one of those later. "Bruiser knits, Killer sews, Fang does little puppet shows. And Vladimir collects ceramic unicorns."
The horned helmet guy with my poster clinked two, tiny unicorns together. "What about you?" Hook Hand asked. He pulled me off the wall. "Who me?" I asked. "Oh, no. I don't sing." The thugs all pointed swords at me. That's it. I'm screwed. I either sing and get my satchel back, or die, just because I didn't want to sing. That second option is stupid but it's true. Welp, I'm out here for my satchel. Guess there's no point in dying now, is there?
"I have dreams like you, no really!" I started. This is terrible. This is embarrassing. "Just much less...touchy feely. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny. On an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone...surrounded by enormous piles of money." They cheered. I can get out of this one! Great! Well, not great I had to sing to avoid death, but, it's not bad!
The thugs added backup vocals for Blondie. "I just want to see the floating lanterns gleam!" They cheered. "And with every passing hour, I'm so glad I left my tower! Like all you lovely folks, I have a dream!"
I guess the thugs thought it'd be funny if I did barrel riding, because guess what? That's exactly what they did. They grabbed me and threw me on a barrel, and pushed it along. Some guys threw knives over my head, and others breathed fire, all while I was trying to not lose my balance and fall off. Eventually, I did fall off, but that was only because I hit a wall. And I was stuck there until the song finished, where Blondie helped me up.
Suddenly, the man who was sent off before the song returned. "I found the guards!" Blondie and I hid under the counter behind the tables.
"Where's Ryder?" the Captain of the Guard asked. "Where is he? I know he's here! Turn the place upside down if you have to!"
Hook Hand crawled up next to us. Before I could say anything, he pushed a lever on the counter and the wall in front of Blondie and I opened up. "Go, live your dream," he said.
"I will," I said, staring down the opening he revealed.
"Your dream stinks," he grunted. My smile faded. "I was talking to her."
"Thanks for everything," Blondie said, sincerely. I rolled my eyes and silently mocked him. "'Your dream stinks.' Yeah, I'm not the one with a hook for a hand trying to play the piano! Rather well, at that..." I shook my head. "Who am I kidding? My dream's awesome! He doesn't get it! If you've been poor your whole-"
"What are you talking about?" Blondie asked suddenly behind me. I jumped. "Blondie! Don't do that!"
"Sorry," she said.
The exit became tall enough for us to stand in. I grabbed a torch along the way, as it started getting dark.