Employed by the Big Shot

Cookies

When you reopen your eyes, a dull unnatural navy envelopes the room surrounding you. You sit up, letting the warm duvet fall off your shoulders into your lap. The crisp air hits you like a sudden blizzard. It's nighttime, presumably not close to morning since there's no sign of the 'sun' recolouring the deep blue rays coming through the window. Rubbing your eyes, you roll your ankles. You shake your head with wide eyes from shock when you feel no pain whatsoever. Then, you almost scream out in terror when the sheets in your lap start wriggling, but hold it in and inhale sharply instead.

You scramble out of bed, panting heavily. All the joy that was felt as you noticed your pain-free legs is gone and has been replaced with fear. You shakily move your hand to the writhing blanket, preparing yourself to be attacked by a rabid maus or jumped on by a huge metal spider. You lean back as far as you can, squinting your eyes nervously, and force yourself to open up the pile of silk.

"Pf-Ugh! You-" You whisper-scream at the miniton who's fixing his hair and suit and looking disgruntled. It's eyes widen at you as you exhale heavily, crunching the silk in front of your heart in your fist. It looks slightly offended. You did just smother it and snap at it for no reason other than your panic at the thought of it being a maus sleeping with you, you realise.

"Heh, s-sorry about that." You smooth out your shirt and scratch the back of your head. It opens and sharply closes its wings, tilts up its chin and looks away. It seems to be silently mumbling. You kneel down onto your knee and reach out your hand and adorn an apologetic look. "My bad, really. Sorry. Are you okay, sweetie?" It thinks about it for a second before leaping onto your hand, it's little shoes in the centre of your palm, and nods. It smiles heartily at you. It's confident attitude rubs off on you.

"That's good. What are you doing here, anyway? Not that I mind, you just shocked me a bit." You wonder, still maintaining a soft whisper. It gestures at you before pridefully, one hand on its hip, holds its hand up and open and presents some green sparkles.

"Ah, of course. Well, thank you very much," you stand and rock on your feet, admiring your healthy strong legs. "I do feel a lot better." You grin gratefully at the proud-looking thing in your hand. You begin to tuck it into your pocket, as it looks at you quizzically.

"Come on," you say lightly walking to the door, cautious to not make too much noise. "Let's go find those cookies, I'll give you some if you help me." You wink at it before peeking through the door. It nods enthusiastically while holding the seem of your pocket. You step out and scan the room. No Spamton and no goodie bags. You nibble at your bottom lip as you think of places to look.

You tiptoe over to the computer desk, you have a feeling that if it's in this room, here is where it would be. You ever-so-softly pull open drawers while sitting on the edge of the luxurious leather chair. The first and second you try results in nothing but office supplies and paperwork. You're about to move on to another place to look when the baby blue minton flutters out of your pocket and points violently at a bottom drawer you haven't opened. Your eyebrows raise.

You mouth 'thank you' to it and reach down for the handle. It flys up, sits on your shoulder and kicks it's legs excitedly. You smile delightedly when it opens to reveal the sought after baggie, you have to hold back a gleeful 'yes!' as you snatch up the ill-gotten prize. You and the minion exchange a look that translates as a mental celebratory high-five. You scuttle off to your room, holding the bag tightly against your chest to muffle the crinkling sounds it's making. You scrunch up your face as you shut your door, cringing at the loud click.