Scrooge McDuck (
moneymatters) wrote in
theroleplaybin2020-01-19 07:00 pm
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When it's nice and bright, and it brings delight, let your heart choose right
Scrooge huffed as he wandered through the garden, picking up another scattered leaf. This went into a basket he was carrying, which was already full of torn and chewed stems, roots divorced from their vegetables, and other torn leaves left behind. Spotting something in the soil, he bent to examine a clear print left among the other, more smudged ones he had been seeing.
"Ah-hah. I had a feeling." Standing back up with some effort, he resumed his cleaning. "Goin' to have to set some bigger traps..." And other such mutterings under his breath, most not repeatable in this post made for the reading of mixed company.
"Ah-hah. I had a feeling." Standing back up with some effort, he resumed his cleaning. "Goin' to have to set some bigger traps..." And other such mutterings under his breath, most not repeatable in this post made for the reading of mixed company.
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At her question, he rubbed his snout in thought, then shook his head. No, no jewels or minerals.
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"Okay, well, what do Fraggles have that's worth something? What's valuable to you guys?"
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One hand reached into a pocket and he pulled out a weathered, but cared-for harmonica. He waved it a bit, then put it to his mouth and, closing his eyes, played a short song.
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She crouched down once he'd finished, with the slightest of smiles. "So, that kind of thing, huh? Well- I guess you could try busking. Uh, playing for donations from people on the street. But let's face it, you'd draw more attention for how you look than what you play." A beat. "Not that you sounded bad, I just- Nevermind. Look, I don't think you can pay him back like that. Some kind of labor is probably going to be your best bet, Gobo. Ooh, but that's right, Scrooge doesn't want you back on his property..." She sucked in air through her teeth, feigning distress.
"Oh! Well. I guess you could do something for his dear niece, though."
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Promise to let him go and he'll never come back, how does that sound?
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Still, they had one problem with, she realized as she checked the time on her phone, another soon coming up.
"Okay, here's the thing - I need to make money today. We'll reach an agreement later, but for now, you're coming with me. Do you know what a car is, Gobo? 'Cause we're gonna deliver some food in mine."
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She was a good driver, too. It had even surprised Uncle Donald and her brothers, how well she'd taken to it. Once she'd buckled Gobo's lap belt, she placed a very hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Just breathe. You'll be okay."
And then she removed her hand from his shoulder to start up the car, pulling out into the street.
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The next time she checked on him, he'd be curled into a little huddled ball, as much as he could manage, his tail tucked around him and the poof flared out completely.
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Without a word, she reached over briefly to turn on the car's stereo, starting up a song.
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She turned the car off and turned to look down at Gobo. "See, it wasn't so bad, right? I saw your tail going with the music."
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"...Hey, Gobo?"
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"Look, you're not going to come back to garden at the Manor, right?"
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Turning tail, he dashed off across the parking lot, to where a small woodsy area lined the edge. He dove forward into a shadowy spot between two trees- had that mound with a hole always been there? -and disappeared from sight, poofball tail and all.
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