DINOSAURS VS NAZIS - 1 Dollar 1 Hour Gameplay

Description

This is a continuation of the story begun in the description of this video (http://bit.ly/1PQUPPs) and continued here (http://bit.ly/1LYeDdD and http://bit.ly/1CJACFa and http://bit.ly/1MBTcC7 and http://bit.ly/1lXyClq and http://bit.ly/1P9hWCF and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1VBAK9YP0k8)

The Boy turned to the Courtesan. “Let’s have one more round.” “I was hoping you’d say that. I have something to show you…”

She reached deep into her bodice, jostling her jangly bits. The Boy stared. He didn’t want to stare but he couldn’t NOT stare. His eyes wouldn’t let him not stare. She wiggled a bit, her arm going in deeper until suddenly -- she whipped her arm out, triumphantly holding a crystal flask filled with an amber liquid. “I swiped it when we were at Kestorhouse. I have no idea what’s in it.”

The Boy smiled at her and replied, “Let’s find out!”

They extricated themselves from the other members of Pepperpots, making their excuses to their new friends, and wandered down the slowly quieting streets. The Lampwright’s Guild had already come, so the cobblestones were imbued with a hazy, golden reflective glow. Through the wends and winds, the alleys and closes of The University. They found a small bridge over a one of the canals that led from the river and sat down on the balustrade.

The cork came out of the flask with a satisfying SQUEEKNPOP. They each took a sniff. The Courtesan offered the flask to The Boy, who demurred: “Ladies first.” “Ahh,” she replied, “But I’m no lady!” She tipped the flask into his mouth; he took a deep sip, and she followed.

The taste was summer sunshine in a bottle. They wanted more.

Soon, the flask was empty and their heads were spinning. “What do you think it was?” The Courtesan asked. “I have no idea! I’d never had BEER before this week!” The Boy threw the flask in the canal and watched it bob away. They laughed, and started guessing liquors they’d heard of: Simmer, or Brandy, or Akkavit. Usquebaugh, or Jinniver, or Ojen. The Courtesan was much better at this game, since she’d spent time amongst the gentry. 

“Alright alright! I give up!” The Boy cried. “You obviously know more than I do. You know more about EVERYTHING than I do! You’ve seen so much!”

“Yes,” The Courtesan replied, suddenly serious. “I’ve seen much. Too much.” “Could YOU teach me?” She looked at him for a long moment. “You don’t want to know much of what I know.” 

The Boy didn’t know what to say to that. They sat in silence for a while. She sighed. “Let’s just go home.”

They carefully - carefully - climbed down from the balustrade, not wanting to fall into the canal, and began retracing their steps back to Pepperpots. The Boy didn’t know what had gone wrong. One moment they were joking and laughing, the next she had just...changed. If only his head weren’t so fuzzy from the flask, he might be able to find the words to say to her. Instead, they walked in silence.

“Look,” began the Courtesan. “About back there at the bridge. I’m sorry if --” “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry if --” “It’s ok.” They looked at each other, and the tension broke. Somewhat. At least now, the silence was more comfortable. 

As they rounded the corner from Grovver Alley into the Wyndam Close, The Boy noticed that a few of the lamplights were out. The Close grew dark, and he couldn’t see more than a few dozen spans in front of them. He was just about to suggest they turn around and go another way when something hit him in the side of his head. As he fell to the ground, the world turning black, he heard a single yelp.

Slowly, the world spun back into focus. It was dawn. The stars were going out. And The Courtesan was gone. How long had he been there? What had happened? As he stood up, a piece of paper fell off his chest. He blinked once, twice, three times, rubbed his hands in his eyes to clear his head, and read.

“You took our Founder’s Flask. We took your friend. Bring it tonight, alone, or you won’t get her back.”

The Boy was distraught. The flask was gone, floating through the canals or sunk to the bottom, or maybe even back in The Rashorne River at this point! He had no idea what to do.

If you want The Boy to alert the police, type “Police” in the comments
If you want The Boy to enlist his friends for help, type “Friends” in the comments
If you want The Boy to work along, type “Alone” in the comments

This story will continue if One Dollar One Hour continues…

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