Putz12 Plus One

TWENTY NINE | PUTZ 45

They discussed what to do if a meteor hit them. If they opened it to be held at gunpoint. And all in between. But it seemed there was no need for such plans, as the citizens boasted their hospitality. And before they could introduce themselves, a hoard of octolings, well-dressed and white-toothed, appeared behind them.

"I don't think so!" Iza got in fighting stance, so did the other two. But the others did not reciprocate. Instead, they eyed down toward her thigh and Putz's face turned red.

"Iza, 33?"

"I, I--" She could feel his eyes on her and never so much wanted to be invisible 'til now.

"Welcome, to City 310. You're safe now."

Their guards went down and the tallest man, a tall octoling identical to the others with his suave black tentacle, slick at the top, pointed downward.

"Uh, do we, do we go in that dire-"

"You go in that direction, yes."

And they stepped forward a bit, and the man held out his arms and the rest stepped back. The ground shook a little and a translucent golden gate appeared, glowed purple and set in place.

"Whoa."

"Hey! You can't fuckin' trap us here! You can-"

The man laughed and pulled out a pair of keys from his pocket. He tossed it to Putz, who shielded himself from getting hit, but before they hit his head Iza grabbed them and smiled. Her eyes were now on the man, the city, the... everything. Except Putz.

"This isn't a prison." He laughed. "You may leave whenever you wish."

"So what's with this forcefield squit then?" Pheobe asked, eyeing him intently.

"Out there is a warzone." He began to step down and they followed him. It was like taking a tour of the opposite life they were living. Somehow it almost reminded Putz of back home. "This place is for preserving octolings, so they may live a peaceful life."

"Uh, yeah. About that. Why not just lead them to the surface?"

"Hmph!" Said a stout octoling, running up to his side.

"Sorry, I forgot to introduce us. I'm Jeffrey Kleims. This is my partner, Gerald."

"Jeff and Ger is what we go by, usually." He straightened his tie.

"Aw, he's so cute and wittle."

Ger didn't seem to like that very much, but Jeff laughed. "The surface would be ideal! If inklings would accept them."

"Um, hi. Elephant in the room, er, inkling in the street?" He pointed to himself. The crowd gasped.

Jeff briefly squinted at this, then held out his hand. "You're far from home, boy! What leads you to these parts? Though we can't say we're disappointed. It was bound to happen."

"Yes, yes." Gerald agreed. "Octolings need more representation. And we'd be much pleased to get them to the surface."

Jeff glanced at him and then turned with hospitable, open arms to the three. "I'm sure you folks would like a place to stay, before heading up to the surface?" They froze. The houses looked so big. There was no way they'd be allowed. "If it's the surface world you want, we must wait 'til war dies down. Here's my card."

He handed them card, and Ger fished in his pocket for some keys. He tossed them up, and again Iza caught it. Inscribed on it: MANSION 3842. Her eyes widened. "M-M-MANSION???!!!"

"M, m, mansion, ma'am." He giggled. "That's right."

"We firmly believe in equality. But if we should be equal, why not be equal in paradise?" Said a sultry voice, coming from behind the crowd.