Information

Crony has a minion!

Stomper the Beaubell

Crony
Legacy Name: Crony

The

Sweetheart Dillema
Owner:

Trithie

Age: 7 years, 9 months, 3 days

Born: July 16th, 2016

Adopted: 7 years, 9 months, 3 days ago

Adopted: July 16th, 2016

Pet Spotlight Winner
December 11th, 2017

Statistics

Level: 41
Strength: 103
Defense: 101
Speed: 100
Health: 100
HP: 100/100
Intelligence: 100
Books Read: 100
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Unemployed

You've got troubles, and I've got 'em too
there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you
we stick together and can see it through
'cause you've got a friend in me

It’s the middle of a foggy night. You’re walking down a poorly lit back alley, which is probably a bad idea, but it is a really good shortcut. ‘What would be out lurking on a night like this, anyways?’ you think to yourself. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’

Well, you spoke too soon. A large pink bulk appears in front of you, and tips its fedora. “‘Evening, friend,” it says, as it pulls a board out from behind it’s back and starts to swing.

The world goes black.

You slowly regain consciousness and groggily look around at your surroundings. You’re in a dark, dingy room with a single lightbulb flickering from the ceiling. You try to move your arms and legs but they’ve been bound to the chair that you’re sitting in. There’s a piece of what feels like duct tape over your mouth. The huge, pink... thing... sits across from you, cleaning it’s nails (or are they claws?) with a small knife.

“So,” the thing grumbles in what seems like a masculine voice, “you wanna do this the easy way or the hard way?”

Well, the easy way seems better, and while you’re still not sure why you’re here, you nod your head frantically.

“Good. My boss needs some information, and we think you have what we need, friend,” is says. “I need you to tell me everything that happened last Monday, and I don’t want to hear any lies from you. Too many lies, and we’ll have to try the hard way.”

You shake your head emphatically, trying to tell him that you will indeed tell the truth. Although you’re still not sure what he wants from you, after all, you spent all last Monday watching a tv marathon. However, the duct tape is still covering your mouth so you won’t be saying much of anything until it’s removed.

Instead of removing the tape immediately, he turns around to a table behind him. You hear the clang of metal and flinch, hoping that he hasn’t got a huge pile of pointy things back there. But instead, he turns around with a filled martini glass in hand. He reaches into a jar of olives you can now see on the table and plops them in the drink.

He walks over to you, finally (and painfully) removing the duct tape from your mouth. “Cheers,” he says, and walks back to the table where he grabs a second glass. He downs it quickly and then pulls his chair closer in front of you.

“Tell me about Monday,” he says, “and make it quick, I don’t have all day.”

You take a sip of the drink to wet your throat, and quickly begin to recount your actions of that day as accurately as you are able to. The creature’s face never changes over the course of your tale but, once you’re done, he takes the glass from your hand and hurls it across the room. It shatters against the wall. Clearly you didn’t give him the information he wanted.

“I can’t tell whether you’re telling the truth or if this is the most boring cover story ever,” he grumbles. “The good news is, you’ll be singing like a bird once that drink goes through your system. Don’t worry, if you’re telling the truth you won’t remember a thing about this tomorrow. If you’re not... well, I guess you won’t have to worry about tomorrow at all.”

You realize that you’ve started to feel drowsy. You look over at the creature, and he has pulled out his knife again. That knife is the last sight you see.

You wake up in a park, feeling groggy and bruised. The last thing you remember is turning down an alley to take a shortcut home... it was night then. Now the sun is shining overhead. Confused, you slowly sit up to get your bearings. You catch a glimpse of something pink out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn your head to look, nothing is there.

overlay: frederick
profile: beer
story: Trithie
song lyrics: you've got a friend in me//randy newman