When blandness strikes! Also include an explosion of confetti.
Certain words are a portent of doom.
“I’m bored,” is definitely two of them. From Shayde, very much so.
“I told you to subscribe to the calendar of events,” said Rael.
“I did. It kept spammin’ me in weird languages.”
One of these days, she was going to learn not to tick checkboxes she didn’t understand. “I’ll help you fix that, next Threesday. I have an hour or two to spare.
"I’ll bake ye a cake.”
Mmmm… cake… Shayde was under the assumption that the way to his heart was through his stomach, and Rael was not about to let that assumption be dissolved any time soon.
“I’m still bored.”
So much for that. He’d just have to do his utmost to keep her from doing anything… excessively human.
*
30 minutes later….
There was a conga line. Shayde was in the lead with a traffic cone on her head and a pair of unexplained maracas vigorously shaking in her hands. She and the other humans were singing an ancient song vastly appropriate for the atmosphere.
“We’ve got cabin fe-ver/ We’re flipping our ban-da-nas/ Been lost at sea/ So long that we/ Have simply gone ba-na-nas!”
Someone set off an explosion of confetti. It went off like someone making a balloon squeak.
“I know what this is,” said Sherlock, appearing as usual behind Rael’s shoulder. “What I want to know is why you didn’t stop it.”
“Couldn’t,” corrected Rael. “I did everything except turn myself into a pretzel.”
“And yet,” Sherlock gestured at the gyrating humans, “Silly Season has started early.”
Tourists were gathering to take photographs and videos for the folks back home. And following the tourists came the mobile hucksters. And following the hucksters… were the criminal element. Thus making Security’s job all that much more difficult.
Silly Season or not, Shayde owed him more than just a cake.
[Muse food remaining: 10. Submit a prompt! Ask a question!]