Shoveling, shoveling, little mouse Who's been mining on my house?
"I didn't touch it!" said Jack, flinging something more energetically than stealthily behind him, where it landed on a rock with a metallic clang.
"I was... watching," said Sam truthfully, drawing herself up a little straighter and it seemed that like the cat in the Shrek movies, her blue eyes grew larger and more limpid by the second.
Nonetheless, the witch had a zat, so they were persuaded to enter her house, innocent or not.
Five days later, having come somewhat late to the realization that Jack was extending the antenna from his busted radio in lieu of his finger for testing (her eyesight was designed for sunlight brighter than humans or unas could tolerate, so the interior of the house was always too dim for her) she decided she'd cook him that day.
Sam was forced at zat-point to gather the necessary coal from down the gully and stoke the on-board cookstove that the witch had installed as one of her modifications when she took over the place. When it was glowing white hot, the witch stood, admiring the bright light which reminded her of home for a moment, and was just turning back into the sight-stealing darkness when Sam pushed her in.
"I'm oxidizing! Oxidizing!" the witch wailed as the flames consumed her, and then she was gone.
Sam wasted no time picking the lock to let Jack out.
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Who's been mining on my house?
"I didn't touch it!" said Jack, flinging something more energetically than stealthily behind him, where it landed on a rock with a metallic clang.
"I was... watching," said Sam truthfully, drawing herself up a little straighter and it seemed that like the cat in the Shrek movies, her blue eyes grew larger and more limpid by the second.
Nonetheless, the witch had a zat, so they were persuaded to enter her house, innocent or not.
Five days later, having come somewhat late to the realization that Jack was extending the antenna from his busted radio in lieu of his finger for testing (her eyesight was designed for sunlight brighter than humans or unas could tolerate, so the interior of the house was always too dim for her) she decided she'd cook him that day.
Sam was forced at zat-point to gather the necessary coal from down the gully and stoke the on-board cookstove that the witch had installed as one of her modifications when she took over the place. When it was glowing white hot, the witch stood, admiring the bright light which reminded her of home for a moment, and was just turning back into the sight-stealing darkness when Sam pushed her in.
"I'm oxidizing! Oxidizing!" the witch wailed as the flames consumed her, and then she was gone.
Sam wasted no time picking the lock to let Jack out.
"Way to go, Dorothy!" he said.
Surrender to Dorothy!
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