The Smartphone Saga: A Distracted Journey of Spells and Signals

Chapter 16: Starting Things

It could be said that among the busiest times of the year, largely containing those days which sane people stay at home during, places get packed. Filled to bursting like an Asian train, primed with people excited for the special day. Yet in places that are not designed to handle the number of customers they routinely get...well it gets bad on the weekends. A ten percent increase from 100% capacity is startingly similar to an 80% off electronics and jewelry for the next hour sale.

So it was that, on a rather normal Saturday morning, off-work men found their way to the guild for something to do. They came for cash or a simple hobby, like the men who go fishing on weekends. These weekend warriors crammed themselves into two thousand square feet of Guild and approximately twenty more feet out the door. And Jasson was late.

"Woah..." Jasson couldn't bring himself to approach the entrance, especially since said entrance lay behind twenty feet of puttering flesh.

"Didn't you promise that you'd find a quest?" Harriet said, "I can give you a boost. You can try to run on their shoulders."

As if. Jasson thought. Is she mocking me?

Jasson eyed the grumpy, hungover, and bleary-eyed men. He doubted that he'd be able to keep his balance on top of the crowd, and knew for a fact that a friendly kick or two would be aimed his way if he tried. It's one thing to squeeze through, it's another to walk on people.

"I guess I'm just gonna have to wait in line," Jasson said, "There's bound to be an insane amount of quests for the day."

"You'll just get stuck with the leftovers," Harriett said, "Picking flowers, killing rats. That sort of thing. I thought that you'd be above that, serving such powerful people as the Twins."

"You'd be surprised," Jasson said, "I could take up another extermination quest. It's not like Punching John stopped working, but..."

It's not enough, Jasson thought.

"Better work your way in there," Harriett said, "How do you usually do it?"

"I learned to launch myself right above the beer gut," Jasson said, motioning like he was diving into a pool, "This gives me a lot of structure and an area to squeeze between. But last time it was maybe seven feet deep, not...this."

"Oooh," Harriett said, "I want to try that! Sounds a lot harder than my idea."

"Absolutely not," Jasson said, "You are under direct orders not to squeeze yourself in there by trying to swim between the chests of sweaty men."

"Aww," Harriett said, "Why? You did it."

"For one, it's not right." Jasson eyed Harriet's hitbox and then said, "And for two, I don't think that you'd fit. Too big of a horizontal cross-section."

"Hey," Harriett produced a notebook and scribbled, "Don't call me fat!"

Jasson gaped then said "I didn't- well technically it is fat but the problem is mostly the bone- what are you writing down? What is that book?"

"A ledger of insults," Harriet said, snapping the book shut, "I'm afraid that I'll get them confused and think that I haven't heard one before. Besides, it's like a scorebook. I want to gather the breadth of insults. 'Cross-section' was a unique variation on 'girth' or 'width' and highly educated at that. And since this is the first time I have received a fat insult besides my siblings, I am excited to have a fresh version as the first entry of this type. Thank you."

After a few seconds of his mouth failing to operate, Jasson said "Any time. I can tell you more if you want to-"

"NO!" Harriett said, slapping Jasson harmlessly, "There's no point if they're not directed at me. Rehearsed is the worst. Insults should not be said on a command from the recipient! Only give the insults to me when I really deserve them."