Hopelessly Devoted ~ Garroth x F!Reader

Ch 85: Can I Get Uhhhhh

Chapter Eighty-Five: Can I Get Uhhhhh
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A/N: When a new character is introduced and you don't recognize them from the series, it's because they're an original character. They don't have an equivalent in the actual show. If they do, that's purely coincidental.
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           Instead of a normal girl's night, you spent the whole time packing for the trip with Zoey. After convincing you that you didn't need three outfits for each day, Zoey still had to sit on your suitcase to zip it closed.

       ***

       The next day rolled around. Then the next. You sprung out of bed. Not early in the morning, but you still managed to get up right away—which was no less of an accomplishment. Today was your last day of trash duty. You pumped your fist, presumably at the wall because no one else was around to see this celebration.

You were just about finished sweeping when you caught sight of the old merchant. He hobbled towards you, so you took larger strides to meet him halfway—which was more like the majority of the distance because of his turtle-speed.

"Money?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

           Money? You scanned your mind's glossary. Oh! The ring. That had completely escaped you. "I forgot to trade the ring. I'll do that right now."

Luckily you were wearing the same hoodie as when he gave you the ornate piece of jewelry. You reached into the tummy pouch and pulled out some lint. You dug your hand in your pants pocket, fishing out a few paper clips. Uhhhhhhh

If that doesn't sum up your wealth, then nothing does.

"Money?" the old merchant harried.

You lifted a finger, checking your butt pockets. "Hold on." The ring was gone. "I'm so sorry, I seem to have-"

           The crippled merchant threw down his hood, Rapunzel-worthy salt and pepper locks bouncing out of it. "Curse you and your unreliable generation," he spat, launching a wet one in your direction. He loogied with not only his mouth, but also his words.

         "Excuse me?"

       He seemed to being speaking and moving just fine now.

          He flipped his cane over, revealing it as a whittled staff. He shook the branch at you while ranting, "I knew you would trade my ring and keep the profits for yourself. That was a test and you failed."

          "I don't understand." There was no possible way this guy was serious. Sure, you felt awful about losing his ring, but you were planning on scraping up enough cash to pay him back. "I am so sorry about the ring, I'll get the money to pay you back."

          He pointed an accusatory finger. "No," he snarled tremulously. "You must pay with your life!"

           Oh, so now we're spewing death threats? This guy's real serious about his jewelry. You raised your hands up to show you intended no harm.

          He waved his twiggy staff. "Curse you, curse your generation, and curse this land!"

         You turned over your shoulder, about to ask someone nearby if this guy was for real, when the surrounding audience froze. Wherever you turned, it was like walking through a group bent on winning the mannequin challenge.