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Deal 1008: Standard Story

Once upon a time, the standard collection of three brothers were assigned the usual set of pointless tasks.

The oldest brother, being at all times the biggest and knowing himself to be the smartest, took no care at all. His task was completed swiftly, but without any wisdom was not completed well. Worse, his actions had offended the richest man in the kingdom, and he was soon served with a suit for his troubles. As the case progressed, it became clear to all that he had failed miserably.

The middle brother, often ignored, took up his lute and spent his time at music, letting his assigned task languish as he pursued his art. He spent many hours of many days in many inns and clubs. He chased elusive sounds. He chased a true love. He found many things to be happy about, and in time found himself married with a enough children to fill out his band. In due time, he died as he lived, a happy man surrounded by the joy he brought to all around him. And yet, as these stories go, he too must be judged a failure for he had ignored the arbitrary task that fate (or the Author) had assigned him.

The youngest brother, going by all that is expected in this sort of story, set out diligently to accomplish his task. From time to time, stories of his one brother or the other’s fate would reach him as he sought first the tallest tree in the forest, then the sharpest herring, then some knights with weird and rude habits of accosting people and setting tasks, and finally a decent shrubbery. Along the way he was plagued by rabbits, coconuts, and swallows. Eventually, stories came to be told of his exploits, and even the Author had to admit that by the arbitrary rules in play, he had succeeded.

Except for one thing.

Where was the bat?

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Deal 941: Boom said the puppet.

Puppet boy has a problem.

Aside from being a puppet, that is. And aside from wanting to become a real boy. Those problems are normal for all puppet boys. Puppet boy has a problem that is his alone.

He’s nothing too exciting to look at, being about three feet tall, and being of the puppet persuasion. He’s usually dressed for a formal occasion, in a dapper black evening coat and tails. His current paint job has made him a red-head, but he’s considering a change.

Like all puppets (except for Mister Punch) he’s smarter than he looks. He does require a puppeteer to move him about, but even when left in a tumbled pile in the corner, he’s seeing all that goes on and stewing about it.

And this puppet has seen a lot.

It has changed him to his core. He’s no longer the happy scamp he’s painted to be. He’s hiding something.

He’s hiding a bomb.

And it is time for it to go off.