endbook_rogue_4_1_3

Tin Man sighs when he opens the door.

The lamp lying flat on its side. The radio turned up to the highest volume. Potato chip bags floating in mid-air. Water seeping out of the bathroom door crack. Window shutters tied up in a knot. TV lying wrong side up. Books stacked haphazardly on the ground. Tea table upside-down. Sofa riddled with holes filled with potato chips.

There is no expression on his face. He knew what was coming.

'Where did you go? What took you so long?' 'Where's the yogurt I wanted? Is it the cilantro flavor?' 'Anything fun?' 'I'm bored! I want to go out!' 'Turn that damn noise off!'

'Slow down!' Tin Man puts down the bulging paper bags. 'One at a time!'

'Don't they give you straws when you buy yogurt these days? That's just shameful.' This was Ol' Curly.

'Lend me your hat! I want to make a parachute!' This was Lil' Mo.

Tin Man walks to the sofa, stops to think, and decides against sitting down. 'Can't you guys learn to quiet down, like Big Larry?'

On the sofa, Big Larry rolls his eyes, sucking on a pacifier. Tin Man hears a deep, rumbling voice in his head. 'Don't you see I have something in my mouth?'

'Revenants don't use their mouths to speak!' Ol' Curly angrily waves his walking stick. 'A few days in Columbia, and you've already forgotten how to talk?'

Big Larry's deep voice rumbles again. 'Revenants don't eat cilantro-flavored chips either, but you do.'

'What did you say?!'

'I'm saying... Ol' Curly, you damned fool! I've had enough of cilantro! You don't like cilantro either, Lil' Mo. Grab Ol' Curly's neck!'

'Sure... wait, he's a donut. Where's his neck?'

'Then grab the hole!'

'Woo-hoo—!'

'Fool! I meant his hole, not his whole!'

The lasso turns around in mid-air and flies towards Tin Man.

'Hey—' Tin Man swats it away. 'I'm the one who has to pay for all this ruined furniture. Can't you guys behave yourselves for the sake of my wallet... Well, for the sake of your chips?'

'We were so close!'

'I can't believe that cunning Columbian saw through it!'

'Hand over the hat, and I'll spare your wallet!'

The trio that had been fighting a moment ago now present a united front.

A hot dog, a donut, and a cheeseburger, all made from metal, like Tin Man.

'Cunning Columbian... is that a self-introduction?' Tin Man leans against the sofa armrest. 'You've got your passports right here... Hey, where did they go? Did you steal them again, Big Larry?'

Big Larry casually tosses three Columbian passports into the air. 'Not my fault you lost them because you're not paying attention.'

'One of these days, I'm sewing all my pockets shut.' Tin Man waves his hand, and the passports fall back onto the ground. 'Have you any idea how much effort it took to get these pieces of paper?'

Ol' Curly pokes Tin Man's knee with his stick. 'Can we go out onto the streets now?'

'Not so fast. Your security screenings are still in progress,' Tin Man says. 'Don't look at me like that. You wouldn't believe how many questionnaires and declarations I had to fill out these past few days.'

Lil' Mo, dressed in pioneer garb, kicks the air in disappointment. 'I'm about to suffocate, trapped in this cesspool all day! I want to sling guns and ride off into the sunset on a burdenbeast!'

'This isn't a cesspool, it's a transit center with special security measures. Everything here is valuable. Whoever left the tap on needs to shut it off, right now.' Tin Man takes a glance at the toppled TV and pulls the plug.

'Stop watching pioneer movies and childish comedies. You should've outgrown them millennia ago.'

'Like you're any younger,' counters Big Larry.

It looks so busy out on the streets...' Lil' Mo pokes his head into the gaps in the blinds, gazing out onto the midnight streets. 'But we're stuck in this stinking cesspool.'

'We should've gone back to Kazdel! At least there was heat in the furnace, and hot water that doesn't stop running!' Ol' Curly jumps on the sofa, and the sound of running water in the bathroom stops.

Tin Man knocks on his stiff joints with the back of his hand.

'We came with you because you promised Columbia was going to be fun!'

Tin Man removes his hat and uses it as a fan.

'I'll tell them you're a liar and a cheat!'

'Tell who?' Tin Man covers Big Larry with his hat. Big Larry has to hold the brim up with both hands to keep himself from being swallowed whole.

'Fremont? Wiš'adel? Or the one on her shoulder?'

Tin Man raises his voice.

'Kazdel is being born anew. All that is old is being melted down to form new bricks for the city. Who would care about you if you went back? What can you do?'

The revenants fall silent, and the lively music in the radio seems even more jarring.

Someone tutted, and the radio turned into a smoking pile of scrap in the blink of an eye, as though crushed by an invisible hand.

'One hundred and fifty gold certificates,' says Tin Man, 'deducted from your pocket money.'

Big Larry lets go and lets the hat slide down, hiding him completely.

The low, rumbling voice echoes once again in a dimension inside the hat and outside the room, only with a tinge of sorrow this time.

'Cesspool, cesspool...'

Ol' Curly and Lil' Mo join in the chorus: 'Cesspool! Cesspool! Cess-pool!'

Tin Man shakes his head, picks up the fallen TV, plugs it in, and turns the knob. The room is filled again with the sound of a comedy trio.

The brim of the hat is lifted slightly, turning towards the TV. Tin Man grabs it and puts it back on his head.

'Larry, Curly, and Mo,' Tin Man reads out the names that appear on screen.

The metal hot dog, donut, and cheeseburger turn towards him.

'I didn't think I'd be taking you back with me when I sat down by the furnace. Beyond the furnace is just another furnace. But a thought came to me when I shared the burgers and fries with you: I wanted to share everything bright and beautiful I see and touch with you.

'Compensation? No, I owe you nothing. But you deserve it.

'If the memories of the past have been burned away, why not live again as though it's your first time, and try to live differently?

'That's what I said back then. I waited a long time, but you three were the only ones who came out of the furnace,' laughs Tin Man. 'I don't know if you understood or not.'

'I did,' says Big Larry. Suddenly, there is a jingle from the TV, and the ancient new Columbians turn towards it. The three distinctive characters suddenly started playing music in the middle of a solemn court trial. One of them uses his cello like a bow to fire an arrow into the mouth of the court clerk.

'That one's you, Ol' Curly! You screwed up again!' Big Larry laughs gruffly.

'Shut up! I'm not that dumb!' Ol' Curly is so angry that his mustache curls up.

'You lose! Pay up!' Lil' Mo unabashedly threatens with his lasso.

Ol' Curly angrily takes out a stack of gold certificates from under the hat and passes a few to the other two revenants, before giving the rest to Tin Man.

'For the radio. Buy some cilantro-flavored chips for me with what's left... I know what you two are gonna say, and you can shut it! It's your loss that you don't understand the sophisticated flavor of cilantro on metal.'

Tin Man takes the gold certificates with a smile. 'I'll hold onto this for you. You can buy them on your own when I take you to the store in a few days.'

'The interest rate is half a gold certificate per day.' Ol' Curly turns back towards the screen. 'Yes, I finally understand how interest works. Doesn't matter if you hide it from me; you can learn everything on TV.'

'Sure. You still owe me two hundred in cleaning fees, though. And there's interest on that, too.'

'Cesspool,' interjects Big Larry without turning around.