<meta name="LineWrap" content="true"><TITLE>SR_Bk1 0031</TITLE><A HREF="SR_Bk1-0032.txt">Next (Page 32)</A><BR>"<P><P>"What is it? A pen?" <P><P>"Well I'll tell you," Confetti said with a sigh. "It's a geometric weight marker, but I thought we'd seen the last of these."<P><P>"Cool!"<P><P>"But Daptin, these markers are very, very dangerous. Maybe I should ask Nashin-Yogo if--"<P><P>"--just hold on a second. What does it do, first of all?"<P><P>"Well the idea is pretty simple. The ink from the marker, once dry, begins to get heavier and heavier at a geometric rate, until it eventually bores into the ground."<P><P>"That sounds pretty good!"<P><P>"Yeah, but if you get even a little bit on your skin, it'll rip your skin right off eventually--and there's no way to stop it."<P><P>"Ouch."<P><P>Across the store, the cinder block was clumsily spinning and stumbling around.<P><P>"Ballet! Ballet!" Fake said. <P><P>"What if you wash it off right away?"<P><P>"It works if you do it real quick, but you need the right solvent. And we've been out of solvent for decades."<P><P>"Hmm. I think I can handle it. I'll take it."<P><P>"Okay Daptin," Confetti said, "but I think you should get some situation grenades with it, just in case you get some on your skin."<P><P>"Uh--you expect me to know what that is?"<P><P>"No, so I'll tell you. They're grenades that demolish local situation and force it to reravel. So if you got geometrically marked, you could detonate a situation grenade and totally get out of the situation."<P><P>"That sounds like the best thing yet! I want a lot of them!"<P><P>"Sold," Confetti said.<P><P>"Follow me, cinder block," Fake said as she came back up to the counter. "Now land on the counter."<P><P>The cinder block landed on the counter, carefully avoiding a cup of soda Confetti had been drinking.<P><P>"I think that thing's a little more intelligent than a dog," Daptin said.<P><P>"I think it's even smarter than you, Daptin," Fake said with a grin.<P><P>"Haha," Daptin said.<P><P>"What else can we get?" Fake asked. <P><P>"Well?" Daptin asked of Confetti.<P><P>"How 'bout the books in that case over there?" Fake asked, pointing.<P><P>"Oh no," Confetti said. "Skoobs are for very experienced mortals only. Don't even think of getting any."<P><P>"Why not?" Daptin asked.<P><P>"Because, they're extremely unstable. Just imagine a book carried between worlds in totally the wrong way. They're backward, inside-out, unreal, destroyed, infinite, brooding, wonderful--and they're totally off limits."<P><P>"Not even one?" Daptin asked.<P><P>"Forget it," Confetti said. "Try these."<P><P>Confetti reached under the counter and produced a canister, opened it, and poured a few dried peas into her hand."<P><P>"Conductor voice peas," she said.<P><P>"Come again?" Daptin said. <P><P>"Eat 'em and you'll sound like a train conductor over a distorted train loudspeaker. Very fun."<P><P>"What good are they?" Daptin said.<P><P>"I don't know. Be creative."<P><P>"Okay! Why not! I'll take 'em."<P><P>"Heh heh. Won't Cursive and Elaine be surprised when they see their bill."<P><P>"Well, let's not worry about that now," Daptin said. "We just have to get all the stuff we need and get over there to The Caxopy Group."<P><P>"Oh Daptin, there's no rush," Fake said. "What else, Confetti?"<P><P>The three heard a loud moaning from somewhere in the store, but it quickly subsided.<P><P>"Well Fake," Confetti said, lugging a big cardboard box up to the counter, "how about some huge tin clocks?"<P><P>The box was neatly packed with little tin cuckoo clocks the size of cigarette packs.<P><P>"They don't look very huge to me," Daptin said.<P><P>"Aha, but if you throw one up in the air, it'll become an immense clock in the sky--much to the horror of all who view it."<P><P>"This stuff is just right over the edge, like, I mean, I don't know. I mean, I'll take it. Whatever," Daptin said, shaking his head.<P><P>"Great!" Confetti said.<P><P>"What's that popcorn over there?" Fake asked, pointing. <P><P>"Goodbye popcorn.<BR><A HREF="SR_Bk1-0032.txt">Next (Page 32)</A>