Wilbur Soot's Guide To Torture

How To Capture Your Victim

Schlatt always reminded me of a peacock. He strutted around, flaunting his golden jewels and tailored suits. He's always reeked of money, even when we first met.

When he exiled us, he doomed himself to our hatred and the hatred of the nation I built with my own hands. My nation. My L'manberg. 

The tree shakes with Tommy's weight as he switches to a different branch. "Wilbur." He complains, dragging the r of my name. "How long do we have to stay here." He drags multiple letters. Could he be louder? I'm about to smack him on the back of head, but that would only worsen his volume.

"We're here to spy on Mr. President remember? He's just not here yet." I check the time. 12? How is he not home yet? As far as I know he doesn't have anything planned. Even if he was fueling his addiction, he should be home by now. A car comes up and there he is. With Quackity? They're both laughing and seem incredibly drunk. Where were they? Schlatt drags Quackity inside and end up in his bedroom. I have to sheild Tommy's eyes, who makes a disgusted face. I didn't expect the peacock to fall to such levels for a mate. Especially someone as ugly and so easy to despise. Tommy has to climb down, saying it's 'disgusting and no one should have to do that.' I, on the other hand, am memorized by them. They've done this before; whether they were sober or not, I don't know. 

I watch for almost half an hour before they stop, basically passing out from exhaustion. I write down the event in my schedule. He seems to do this every Thursday and Tuesday. I climb down and Tommy gives me a disgusted look.

"Did you watch them?" I shrug and begin walking the path back to our hide-out. Saturday and Sunday are spent with Tubbo and Quackity or Niki and Puffy, so those are out of the question. Tuesday and Thursday nights are filled with... That. Wednesday is normally when he has meetings, and Monday is when he goes somewhere out of Manberg. Tommy and I don't follow him. He gets back at about 11. Friday nights, however, are normally the days he takes a break from all that. A wine bottle and a show he binges until he falls asleep. Friday also happens to be tomorrow. Perfect. 

We make it back to our hide-out. Techno hands me half a cooked chicken and hands Tommy the other half. I sit around the fire, Tommy on one side, Techno on the other. Tommy shivers a bit, as do I. This cave is cold as shit. Without another word, Techno moves to sit between us and throws his large cape around us all. Tommy moves closer to him and lays on Techno's shoulder.

"Don't test your luck, Theseus." The pink-haired piglin says, still staring at the fire. Tommy rolls his eyes and doesn't move, which causes Techno to push him off. Tommy starts yelling while I'm holding my stomach from the pain of my laughter. Tommy grabs the cape off both of us and rolls up in it. Techno rolls his eyes and just moves closer to the fire. It would burn him, had his skin not been piglin. I lay down and put my jacket on top of me. Until tomorrow. 

---

In the dark of the night, two were left to roam. Both had purpose, one more sinister than the other. A peacock can appear as large as he wants. A fox can still hunt him down. The hunt of a fox is a quick one. The peacock was there one moment, gone the next. No cameras could catch the quick catch. In the morning, the only thing left were two small clues. A scrap of brown fabric and a golden ring with the engraving of the owners name. Jschlatt.