The organization sends much needed supplies and back up. What do they send? How does this avert disaster?
Arthur Beech peered out of the window with a raised eyebrow as the panel van with a florist’s logo on the side pulled up to the rear of the building. His phone chimed to indicate he’d received a message. It was Hilda: “Sent along that help you requested - Hyun-mi wants answers post-haste. HH.”
Arthur looked up from the phone just in time to see a a motley crew of sharply dressed youths stroll through the door. He shook his head and sighed. “Of all the people you could’ve sent…”
The leader of the group, a tall, pink-haired woman in a dark blazer, stepped up to Arthur and made the Helper symbol of greeting. “Speed-reader Squadron ▉▉▉▉ reporting for duty, sir!”
“You’re the ones who responsible for the burning of the library in ▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉, right?”
“Not our fault, sir, technically.”
From the other side of the room, one of the speed-readers called out, “Mini-donut alert!”
“No! No, those are for local Helpers only, please!” Arthur went dashing across the room, panicked.
Santa is IN conclusion
The last family made their way out of the Santa shed, and Meat-Hook came dashing up, soaked in sweat. “We, uh,” he panted, holding out the toy the last child had wished for, “we really should have thought through the logistics of this.” He chuckled as he leaned back to catch his breath. “Enjoy your Max Power Blaster Kit, kiddo.” The parents looked as shocked as all the rest of them had, the mother’s face caught somewhere between discomfort and gratitude. “I…we can’t…how did you…thank you?”
Meat-Hook grinned and pulled a rag from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his face. “Welcome, ma’am. Don’t forget to tell your family and friends that Santa’s granting all the children’s wishes this year! And maybe some adults, too.” He looked over at the father, who raised his eyebrows in surprise, and winked knowingly.
Introduce a character: Risk
Sometime after 2 am, Risk sighed and settled into the tattered armchair in their shabby motel room. They weren’t sure how much longer their ▉▉▉▉▉▉ was going to last, but they were determined to make the best of it while it did. They pulled off their elf hat and sat it on the scratched-up end table nearby, turning to the figure handcuffed to the bed. “Well, Candle-Stealer,” they said, “it ain’t easy being you, but somebody’s gotta do it, right?” Risk grinned in the glow of the grimy light as Candle-Stealer grimaced and continued to struggle against their bonds. “What should we talk about tonight?”
Sorry I held up the game so long!