[Munch's Master]

Firstly, thank you to everyone who replied, particularly Splat for that massive review. Second, sorry to double post, but this post wouldn't be registered as updated if I edited it into the old one. Third, new chapter!

Chapter 18: Curiosities

Clank, whir, clank, whir, clank, whir, clank whir.
Arthur traipsed back along the corridor.
“Oy! Angry Arthur!”
Clank, whir, hiss. Arthur stopped and turned to see, emerging from the office that he himself had just left, another Slig.
“Whatcher want Neal?” Arthur grunted, eyes narrowing.
The Slig apparently known as Neal slapped Arthur on the back heartily, causing the rotund Slig to wobble forwards a little. Neal fell into step with Arthur as they continued walking back to the work Zulag.
“I was gunna ask yer the same question. I was jus’ telling the Boss about tha’ slave what keeps on stirring up trouble n stuff. Ya know the one I mean, the one yew used ta be buddies with till ya kicked the crap out of him. Always tryin ta break out like he’s the 2nd comin’ of Abe or summat.”
A twitch of an eyebrow behind the mask, as Neal’s comment irked Arthur.
“Oh yeah? What’s he done now?”
Neal grinned “Started a fight in the package lines. Well, him or tha’ one who’s got a stress problem. Thumped the one you thumped the other day, an’ so I had ta report it. But the boss ain’ interested in it, can you believe that eh?” He smirked and dug Arthur in the ribs, before rooting around in a compartment in his pants. “Still, gives us another mud ta discipline eh?”
He produced a poor-standard cigar “Wanna smoke? They’s Tarbucks cigarettes, good ‘n proper Slig cigs.”
Arthur shook his head, his body on autopilot as his brain considered this latest news. ‘He’s still beein’ a problem. Man oh man, he’s not gonna quit, an’ that just gives me more work to do……An’ if the boss knows about Larry, he might know about my ol’ soft standards, an’ about my fights with the other Sligs. My neck could be on the line too.’
“-erself then, leaves more o’ them fer me. Ain’t ya gonna open the door?”
Arthur snapped out of his reverie as the Slig gestured to the door in front of them. He pushed the button, the door slid aside, and they carried on walking, the clanging pants echoing along the corridors.
“’Ere, so why were you there anyways?” Neal inquired, lighting up a smoke in the process.
Arthur was already tired of the company, Neal had a reputation for not being too bright even among the other Sligs. As such, he found it difficult to keep the bite out of his voice “I was askin’ fer a transfer, if ya must know. I’m getting’ on in years, I don’t wanna be stuck here forever. I’d like ta go to somewhere more, free ‘n easy. Maybe the city.”
Neal laughed “Free n’ easy? Since when is this place not free ‘n easy? Decent food, plenty o’ drink, tons o’ stress relief with the slaves, an good company!”
Arthur stopped and turned round, Neal almost walked straight into him, and the tip of his cigar bumped into Arthur’s tentacles. Arthur swatted the cigar away
“Good company? You’ve never been the most observant guy Neal, but haven’t ya noticed? Most o’ tha other Sligs still remember when I was ‘the soft guy’, the one who didn’t go along with ‘the boys’. They don’ like me, they only accept me cause I’m a mean bastard to the slaves now. I need ta get away from this, an from all the people round here, ya get me!?”
Arthur’s slow-witted colleague fixed him with a glazed over expression momentarily, before his mouth upturned in a frown “No wonder you’re unpopular, with that kind of attitude!”
He then heartily patted Arthur on the shoulder again, and once again Arthur teetered from the impact “Nah, you’re alright, just a lil’ stressed. Anyway, see ya later, I better get back to tha package lines, or another riot’ll have broken out an’ I’ll have ta start shootin them all.” He grinned widely “Good times! Seeya!”
Arthur watched, both befuddled and revolted, as Neal trekked away. He walked over to a factory map for a moment, then about-turned and headed off down a different corridor. ‘Screw that Chronicler, I’m seein’ Rasputin anyway. If I can’t change factory, maybe a change of job’ll do.’
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“So what is it now, Larry?” Trevor couldn’t even bring himself to add any inflection to his voice, having heard that many of Larry’s so-called escape plans he was getting weary of it.
Larry however, showed signs of his old spark as he leaned across to Trevor at the cafeteria table.
“Right, well, I’ve been thinking: we’ve been working in the package lines the past couple of days, right? Well, next time we’re put there……”
Another mudokon, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation; cut Larry off “Don’t tell me- you get in one of the crates with a crowbar or something, we pack you up and stick you on a train, then when on-board you break the crate open, sneak off the train when you arrive at the station, and run to freedom?! Cause that’s a great idea Larry!” The mudokon said sardonically.
The mudokon opposite this new speaker then chimed in “Of course he isn’t doing that Roy- he’s already tried that old trick! 3 times!”
The slave known as Roy smirked back “Yep Stan, darn those inspectors and there looking-in-the-crate-before-loading ways!”
Larry grimaced as the 2 other mudokons giggled to themselves. He turned back to Trevor “Right, what I was thinking was, in the loading bay we wheel all the crates over to a platform, where some Slig guards then check the crates, then have some other guys load them onto the train. Somebody, like Max, causes a big commotion over on the actual packing lines, as far away from the bay as possible. Then, while all the Sligs go to sort that out; me, you, Jeff and anyone else we can manage all start wheeling the crates towards the platform. When we get there, the Sligs check the crates as always. One of the crates, we need to smuggle something into- it doesn’t’ matter what, just anything that shouldn’t be there. Then, while the Slig’s busy with that crate and that mudokon, the rest of us load the crates onto the train instead of leaving it for the mudokons on the train. We load the crates on, then hide behind some of them at the back of the train.”
Trevor was still listening, though the other 2 mudokons resumed tittering away to themselves as they heard Larry’s audacious plan.
“The Sligs don’t check faces when they round up the mudokons responsible for loading the crates on, they just count numbers. Normally there’s about 10 or so mudokons who stay on the train, winching the crates up on the pulley. So, ‘cause we’ve slipped onboard as well, the Sligs won’t have noticed us, what with checking the smuggled crate and the chaos on the packing lines. So they herd out all the scrubs who were officially loading the shipping, then send the train on. There’s always a crowbar on board so the crates can be opened, so we use that crowbar to break your chant-suppressive shackles, Trev; while the Slig supervising the goods is napping. We then open the loading door while the train’s in motion, and jump out; and ‘cause you don’t have the chant suppressors anymore, you can whip open a bird portal or some kind of spooce cushion so we don’t get killed by the fall, and we’ve got out!!”
Larry clapped his hands together triumphantly, seemingly pleased with his plan. Trevor just stared.
“……..Larry, that is-“
“Brilliant! You should go for it Larry, yeah!” Roy chuckled, applauding the erstwhile escape artist’s idea.
Trevor snarled at Roy, and then turned back to Larry “Actually, I was going to say that is crazy. The risks involved are huge- suppose they don’t let us leave the package lines due to the commotion? Suppose some of the mudokons involved get shot due to it? Or, what if, the sabotaged crate doesn’t work, and there’s more than just the 1 Slig on duty? Then we can’t get on board. Or maybe, just maybe, we’ll get a jobsworth, ho actually checks the train for unshackled mudokons before letting it leave. It’s a crazy idea, Larry.”
Larry deflated slightly, his balloon popped. “It’s the only option left, Trev. When else could we get an opportunity? The packing and loading docks are the most exposed part of the factory, and there’s nearly always just the 1 Slig checking. And how many committed Sligs are there in the factory anyway?”
Roy again butted in “Yeah, come on “Trev”! I mean, it’s bound to work cause it’s Larry’s idea! And we all know that if it didn’t work the first time, it’s bound to work the four hundredth time! And who cares if a bunch of us get shot to bits for causing a riot, because at least Larry’s free!!”
A deep sigh, and Larry turned to look at Roy. “You know it’s not like that Roy.”
Roy cocked his head “Do I? Cause I seem to recall the rest of us getting punished for your escape attempt a year ago! Remember? The new work clauses are down to you. Sure, we weren’t happy before then, but at least we could get by!!” He snapped.
Again, a downcast expression covered Larry’s face. “Fine, whatever. But I can’t be doing with this now; I’d better get back to work.”
A scrape of chair on floor as Larry stood up to leave, then an “Oof!” and thump as his body toppled face first to the tiles. Larry picked himself up and turned to face the scrub who’d tripped him. Not so shockingly, it was Roy, who also stood up to go eye-to-eye with Larry.
“What is your problem with me?!” Larry demanded.
“Well, maybe the fact that you and your thick headed ideas keep landing all of us in shit every time!” yelled Roy back, the sarcastic demeanour having finally cracked and given way to anger.
“I don’t see you doing anything to sort it out though! You just moan and take it out on me! Why don’t you face up to your own problems for once!”
Roy bared his teeth “Because they aren’t my damn problems! They’re yours, cause it’s always down to you! Do us all a favour and stop trying! Go drown yourself or something, anything that doesn’t make things even worse for us!!”
Trevor tried to intervene “Um, Larry-“
Larry wrung his hands together, as both mudokons’ skins were gradually turned a slightly crimson hue. “Suicide?! Is that what you want! You want me to go into a bloody depression? Is that cause you just like to see me suffer, or cause you want some company to join you in your miserable, whingey, pass-the-buck lifestyle!” Larry shouted.
All eyes were on both mudokons now. Even several of the Sligs, eating, drinking or chatting, turned to watch the spectacle. Most of them were grinning widely.
“No, uh Larry, it’s just-” Trevor began again.
“I outta slap your stupid head off your shoulders right now! But I’ll save it till later, that way you can think about what’s coming to you!” Roy raged, before shouldering Larry out of the way and storming out of the canteen, back to his work station.
After a brief silence, the canteen resumed its previous action, the labourers trying to fit as much recuperation as possible into those last few minutes before end of lunchbreak. By this point, the Sligs were filtering out, their dining finished, but a few mudokons still remained here and there.
“Larry, all I-” Trevor again started.
“What Trevor? What’s the problem now!!!” Larry spat out exasperatedly.
“There’s a Slig bothering Jeff again!”
And sure enough, there was. Jeff had taken to sitting separate on occasion, his thought process so addled by the Gas used to keep him out of depression that he had no semblance of a routine anymore. Larry and Trevor were used to seeing Sligs wind him up for laughs, ever since the beating courtesy of Arthur had resulted in the gas dependency. It seemed this was the case again.
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And now let us take a look at this case, as, from a few minutes earlier:
“He hehe he he. Hello!” Jeff smiled up at the face in front of him. ‘All tentacles and big red glowing eyes, the funny-looking thing was. What were they called again? Sligs, that’s right!’
“You’re the mudokon who’s on the gas, right?”
“He he. Ha! Hello, tehe!”
“…Yeah,” The Slig paused. “I’ve been watchin yer the past few days, an’ I’ve seen that you’re a bit funny in the head. The easy pickings fer my lot.”
“Hahaha! Picking, HA!” Jeff offered the Slig another wide smile. ‘Funny nose. All the tentacles. Wonder how he sneezes?’
“…Mhm. Look, well, you just stay out of all their way, got it!?”
“Who? Haha! Hehe! Yep.”
“Yeah…..”The Slig paused again “Cause you’ll just keep getting’ hurt if you don’t. They like ta prey on the troubled ones. It’s just lucky fer me there’s none about now ta see this going on. Don’t worry though, I’ll try an’ look out fer yer. You’ll be fine round me, so you can get off the gas if I’m on duty for yer. My name’s Mikey. Try and keep out of trouble, y’hear?”
“Hehehe.” Jeff vacantly smiled again. ‘Mikey Mikey Mikey. Isn’t that short for Microphone? Mic? Mike? Mikey!’
“Yeah, jus’ be careful. Um, I’d better go.” And with that, the Slig toddled off, taking care that none of his fellow species had seen the little conversation.
Seconds later, Trevor and Larry, with Max in tow, reached Jeff.
“What was that about Jeff?” Larry asked.
“Did he bother you? If you sit with us all the time Jeff, this kind of thing will stop happening.” Trevor supplied.
“Haha! Trevor Mikey. Microphone! Haha! Larry Microphone! Hoohoohoohee!” Jeff was still far gone.
“Microphone? Mikey?” Larry was wrong footed.
“I am at just a loss as you are, Larry.” Trevor concurred.
“BZZZZTTT”. The buzzer pierced the air of the canteen. The foursome exchanged glances, except for Jeff, who just stood up and giggled. And they trudged away to their respective work areas for the rest of the day, Trevor carefully ushering Jeff along.
Trevor looked at Jeff as he helped him on his way, thinking hard. What the heck happened with that Slig back there to make Jeff ramble like this? Something strange, for sure.
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