When Twre stepped out of the changing room, he was back to looking as professional as usual. His hair was well-combed, he had fresh, clean clothes on (though he had to admit they were rather stuffy compared to what he usually wore), and of course there was no more five-o'-clock shadow--somehow he found an electric razor in the midst of getting ready. Sadly, he couldn't do anything about the blisters; those were the only reminders of the labyrinth that no simple freshening could get rid of.
As he looked around the hall to see where Rusto had gone, he heard a familiar voice. "Ughhhh...stupid TV executives and their idiot decisions..." Twre turned around and saw Dot moping about...in what were certainly not the clothes she usually wore. Rather, she found herself forced to wear a rainbow polka-dotted blouse, a striped knee-length skirt and a bow in her hair. The only accessory she was allowed to keep was the key on her neck. Next to her was her scooter, and peeking out of its trunk were her package and...his briefcase?
Twre called out to her. "Dot? Is that you?"
At that, Dot immediately saw the orc regard her new unwanted clothes. She was speechless. Oh, crap. If I have to explain this to him... She shuddered at the mere thought of looking like she was ripped out of a vintage ad for scooters.
Twre, however, had more pressing issues on his mind. He pointed toward the back of the scooter and explained, "Well, first of all, I think that's my briefcase. Could I please have it back?" Dot, surprised he wasn't immediately asking about the wardrobe, took the briefcase out of the trunk and handed it to him. He immediately unlocked and opened it, caring little about its slightly scuffled state. This time, however, inside was a single flier in a language he couldn't read but assumed was the same as on the changing room sign. Okay, now there's something in my briefcase. It's not any of my work supplies, but I guess it's something. Closing and locking the briefcase, he then turned toward Dot and asked the other question on his mind. "Thank you. Second of all, what did they do to your clothes?"
Dot had hoped Twre wouldn't ask after all. As it stood, however, she found herself needing to explain the situation. "The people in charge said those clothes didn't fit their concept of a 'scooter girl' well. True, the clothes were completely dirty after what I went through at the Labyrinth of Infinite Falls, but that can't be an excuse to shove me into something they thought would be appropriate for a girl who rides a scooter every day." She sighed and covered her face with her hands, wishing she could use her newly-learned spells to burn the costume. "I bet they completely missed the part where I was riding that scooter for work!"
Twre tried to console her frustration. "Yeah, I get what you mean. Still, they certainly had worse where I was just now."
"Wait, really?" Shock filled Dot's eyes upon learning of even gaudier clothes. Did they even care about good taste at that point?
"When I first got here, there was this cheap pekubaoa costume that Zunushuyum had on..." Realizing that he was about to lose Dot with terms only he would get, Twre clarified, "Well, I mean 'this cheap mer-catfolk costume my no-good drunkard genie ally had on'--"
"Wait, since when did you get a genie companion?" Dot became curious as to what befell her fellow companions. She had only met them relatively late within the labyrinth and felt she missed out on plenty.
"Ever since I found this back at the labyrinth." He showed her the titanium band on his arm. "He's incredibly bad at his job, though. Not only does he misinterpret several wishes, but he also tries to make people as drunk as he is."
Drunk? Dot thought back to the time when Twre tackled Mato while thinking they were his "Daaa'"."So, wait, that random behavior when you held onto that dreaded warrior-priest for dear life while crying..."
"...was his fault," Twre finished. Then, deciding he needed to turn the conversation away from such an embarrassing moment, he asked Dot something else on his mind. "Anyway, you wouldn't happen to have seen Rusto around, have you?"
---
Meanwhile, in the lush paradise planet of Hemyara, all was not well with Menghamgin. The last time she was with her lover was ages ago, well before the invasion happened. Ever since, she had always felt lonely. No other friends she made--well-meaning and nice as they were--could compare to him, and she still remembered the pain of their forced separation. Now, as she sat in the dining room of her beach house, she still thought of the lovely times they spent together.
Deciding that she needed to do something to put her mind off of the issue, she took out the day's paper and read the headlines. "STRAY KITTEN FOUND IN COCONUT TREE," "TOURISM REACHES CAP FOR FIFTIETH DAY IN A ROW," "FOURTEENTH ANNUAL WAKALAWI COOK-OFF INTERRUPTED BY MYSTERIOUS EXTRATERRESTRIAL SIGHTING," those sorts of stories. She had to admit that Hemyara was a sort of hell for news reporters who didn't find good enough material on other, less relaxing planets. Still, what passed for news here was some solace at least.
She then flipped over the paper to see the government-mandated Style section. There, she saw a blurb that attracted both her attention and her wariness: "BRAND NEW REALITY TV: Come see six beings from different dimensions fight to the death in the hit new TV series 'Grand Battle'! More on page G7."
A fight to the death? How do they make a TV show about that? With little hesitation, she flipped over to the indicated page and read the synopsis. "GRAND BATTLE: A group of six contestants from all over the multiverse duke it out in a deadly battle for the chance to win the wish of a lifetime! Don't miss this exciting contest of murder and mayhem! Starts tonight at 7 MT/10 GT." Below was a list of names, presumably of the contestants. She read off each one, wondering what they could possibly have in common. Dot "The Scooter Girl" Smith. Rusto "The Scoundrelous". Tobasco "The Fastest Bottle of Hot Sauce Alive". Chibos "The Chibi-Giant". The "legendary work-and-play tag team" of Tẃre [sic] Egelmath and his genie Zunushuyum. Our Lord and Savior Himself--
She paused...and read the penultimate contestant duo's names again. Some person whose name she couldn't pronounce...and Zunushuyum?! What was
he of all people doing there?
Surely this must be a mistake... But no, there was a black-and-white photo off to the side of the text and it indeed showed seven beings standing side by side in a photo op. A girl in a frilly dress who looked rather uncomfortable with herself. A masked man who looked rather dangerous. A messy bottle of hot sauce upon a stool. A floating banana boat. A six-fingered businessman with a briefcase, also uncomfortable. And right there, next to a goldfish who looked rather unusually large, was her lover.
But...he was no longer the refined man he once was. No, from the looks of his messy robe and that bottle he held, he had taken to drinking. Disgusted, she wondered how such a charming man like him could have fallen so far. But as she gazed sadly into his eyes, she swore she could have seen something off to his side. A sort of glowing purple sigil in the back, which looked like a group of lines and circles that vaguely looked like some sort of number. And as she looked closer, she made out what number it was.
969.
All of a sudden, it came back to her with a vengeance. The pain. The suffering. The disciples destroying her homeland and forcefully taking her treasured man away from her, all in the name of their prophet. And it was no major feat of logic to realize what the conqueror had done to poor Zunush.
She gritted her teeth and dug her nails into her ethereal flesh.
"...That hag."