Part 4
A store clerk wearing a suit of plate mail clanked up to the rope sparing Roderick from further dealings with the boy for the time being. Blonde pigtails stuck out from the helmet. Lifting the visor a young woman smiled broadly at the entire group with pearly white teeth. As she talked her magically enhanced dimples radiated cuteness. Roderick shielded his eyes from the overpowering adorableness.
“Hiyee everyone! We’re just so super thrilled that you’ve chosen to shop with us tonight. We know that in a last ditch effort to please the children who control every aspect of your waking lives you have limited choices. Wisely you came here to Salacious Bob’s Fantasy Realm Toy Shop! SQUEEE! Anyhoodle. There are some rules we have to obey, otherwise Mr. Frowny comes out, and you don’t want Mr. Frowny to come out. Do you?” she burbled fixing a cold gaze on Roderick.
Cautiously he shook his head negatively. It felt strange to shake his head for it was not often that he got to answer anyone in the negative. Call it an occupational hazard waiting to happen if you will.
"Righty-o! Here we go. Just a few of the tiniest rules, okayee? No weapons, no wands, no potions, no curses, no charms, no scrolls and no traps. No telekinesis, no teleportation, no hypnosis, no poisoning, no tripping, no poking and no turning to stone. No fireballs, no chain lightning, no prismatic sprays, no cursing (not to be confused with curses), no illusions. No refunds, no rebates, no kidding. Any complaints may register them with Mr. Frowny. Okayee?”
The clerk paused and snapped a bubble with her gum. She looked over at ‘Salacious’ Bob, who had an eye on the large clock, the other pinned on a buxom patron. As the hands lined up on Midnight he gave a sharp nod of his head. The clerk clapped down her visor and deftly unhooked the rope and flung it aside.
Roderick moving quickly leapt over the rope the exact instant that the clerk unhooked it. A howl of anger rose up from the crowd behind him. The pounding of his feet and heart drowned out the trailing sound of many aggravated holiday shoppers in pursuit. His claws extended grasping for the nearest box that was his prize, just millimeters away from contact. A black shadow materialized in front of Roderick. Unable to stop himself, the minion ran straight into a thick wooden plank that swung into his path.
KATHUNK!
“IGOTONEIGOTONEIGOTONE!!!!” shrieked the boy dropping the shelf and plucking one of the boxes from its place. In a burst of hyperkinetic speed he vanished up the aisle making for the checkout counter. Roderick pulled himself up off the floor disoriented and angry while shaking his head to clear it.
Snarling he reached for the next box. This time a wizened hand jutted in and slapped his away forcefully. Pain flared across his knuckles. Blinking in surprise he stared at the shambling mound of a witch. A silver ruler disappeared into the tatty folds of the cloak. On his hand a red line cut down through the fur to the hide beneath. Cackling naughtily the witch scooped up the second box, shuffling back down the row of shelves.
Roderick shook his hand several times to test its responsiveness. It hurt but still functioned. Thankfully it was only one blow from the silver implement. A quick hit at that. Prolonged exposure could be fatal to minions of his kind. Out of the corner of his eye the last box waited. A tentative smile broke out. Roderick looked in both directions before grabbing the play set. He hugged it tightly to his chest.
A dull thump concussed the air around Roderick. Curling smoke followed the blast. It was like moonlight and talons and feathers bursting forth with shimmering sparkles of gold and jazz hands. Out of the cloud emerged a massive figue.
“HOHO, err I mean: Greetings fellow shopper. It is I…uh..Thorgensson…uhm…Smith.”
The enormous gentleman standing before Roderick had an unkempt shock of white hair and comical black glasses without any lenses. A rubber nose decorated the man’s face. A leather gauntleted hand reached down and tried to pry the box out of the minion’s thin arms.
“Please my good man, I need this item.”
"Itsss mine!" Roderick protested.
Thorgensson poked Roderick in the chest with a finger almost as thick as one of Roderick’s arms thrusting him back against the toy shelves.
"Listen to me you vile little miscreant, there is a deserving child out there somewhere in dire need of this toy. I’ve dealt with work stoppages, supply chain strikes and a pair of Panty Pixies who refuse to believe that my workshop isn’t part of something called: ‘Ale Pong Golf.’ No two bit sawed off boot licking minion is going to deny me!” yelled the mountain of a man at the mote of a minion.
A ham-like hand seized Roderick by the throat and hoisted him clear of the floor. Cold blue eyes bore into his golden ones. Roderick gave a little snort through his nostrils. Far scarier beings than this had done worse than this. A deep throat clearing operation began next to the pair. They each rotated an eye to examine the girth of an Ogre. A cracked tusk jutted brusquely from its lower jaw.
“’ere now, there’s no cause for wot you doin. Put der little feller down, gentle like,” the Ogre told Thorgensson.
“I insist that this foul creature relinquish the play set,” demanded Thorgensson.
“For the master…” Roderick insisted.
“I don’ care wat choo are fightin ‘boot. No violence is to be per’petrated on these here premises…” The Ogre took a beat, savoring the bit of gristle wedged between two molars and the moment as well. “…’less me or Alice is doin’ it.”
“Alice,” guffawed Thorgensson. “The other Ogre is called Alice?”
“You may wish to strongly reconsider your position of mirth concerning the naming of me brother see’n as how he’s the one which busted me tusker.”
“Oh,” said the slightly mollified gentleman. “Well, never you mind about that. I have work that needs done. Noble righteous work. Where may I get another Pretty Pink Princess Fantasy Realm Play Set?”
“The little feller has the last one. Deal wit it,” said the Ogre turning his back on them and lumbering away.
Thorgensson lowered Roderick until his feet again touched the ground. Thorgensson backed up a step and raised his hands in capitulation. Suddenly the massive man’s face went wide with surprise. Pointing a trembling finger he shouted: “It’s the master!”
Roderick snapped his head around wondering what the master was doing down in the town. It was unlike him to leave his lair.
“YOINK!” Thorgensson yelped as he swiped the parcel out of Roderick’s claws.