Dealin' With The Devil

Ribby and Croaks

Hello there. What brings you to a place like this?

Oh? Hey, brother! Come here! This kid wants to talk to us!

Really? About what? What the- what on earth do you want with that?

Yeah, who are you to be askin' that around here? Gonna get yourself a big ol' pile of trouble wandering around the Isle looking for those kinds of answers. For example, here.

Yeah. So if you don't step off, you're gonna get nothing but your head handed to you.

What was that? For the devil? Well, now you're really not gonna get anythi-

Well now, that's quite the deal. Alright. If you can make it happen....

Our...story, per se, don't start off happy. We really didn't grow up in a "good" neighborhood. Everyone had to fight for enough food, sometimes to the death.

Now, I bet you'd think that we were originally pacifists, but that would be the furthest from the truth.

We were avid fighters, looking out for each other in the mist of danger. But...

There was a thing that happened, with one of the young ones.

She was sick. Badly. We couldn't afford medicine, we didn't know what to do.

That little sister...heh....she meant the world to us. We would've done anything and everything to keep her going. But it got to the point where we did.

We were hopping back home, minding our own business. But a shady man started following us down the street; I didn't like the look of him.

Yeah, tall and shady. Now, we knew better than to trust a man of that type.

We walked a little faster, trying to lose him. But he seemed to be catching up, leading us on.

But Ribby here-who may just have the shortest temper in the world—

He's not wrong—

decided to take him head on.

"Hey! What's the big deal!", I shouted, walking towards him. He froze; I guess he was surprised to see that kind of behavior.

I tried to pull him back, before he got us both into trouble; too late.

"Ah, Ribby and....Croaks, yes?", he asked. His voice was suiting for his figure. Low and kinda growly, fit for a villain.

Anyway, we stopped in our tracks. "How did you know?", I asked, keeping my distance. He just chuckled. "News spreads fast around these parts. I've heard a lot about the Bullfrog Fighters in these streets."

We didn't know what to think of this guy. "How can we help you?", I asked, pulling up a defense position.

"No, no. You're asking the wrong question. How can I help you?", he asked, tone excited. "You see, I heard about your little sister, and I think I know a way to help. But of course, I have a price. So, how about we make a deal?"

A golden parchment came out of smoke, floating toward us tauntingly. He handed us a pen with a smile.

"What's the catch?", I asked, trying to make sense of this. "Oh, nothing much, you won't even miss it.", he shrugged it off casually. The man's smile didn't leave. "So, as I said before, do we have a deal?"

We took a deep breath and looked at each other. It....wasn't like we had much of a choice.

I signed-

Then I followed.

But we immediately felt it. We messed up. Big time. He gave a dark chuckle, gently taking back the pen. "Pleasure doing business with you boys.", he darkly dismissed.

Now, it was some sort of instinct, some sort of fire. A fire we listened to. 

Yeah. I grabbed the parchment with the tounge and we made a gun for it. But man was he fast. Our fists gave him a good, uh, "talking to" per se, and we gunned it. 

Oddly enough, he didn't follow us after that. 

It was a little weird, thinking about it. But, all that matters is that we're safe. Unless....you're here to finish his dirty work.

Heh, I don't believe you. 

Yeah, neither do I. HEY SECURITY! WE GOT A TROUBLEMAKER!

GET 'EM OUTTA HERE!!