Sinbad could tell Shark was dazzled by the choices in the wedding store. He just couldn’t stop staring at all the pretty flowers and decorations.
“Have you been in here before, Sinbad?” He asked when he managed to tear his eyes away from a particularly lovely-looking crystal replica.
Shaking his head, Sinbad pouted his lip out. “Nah. Didn’t seem right at the time. I did look in the display windows, though. Got some nice stuff in here.”
Now he was focused on a set of tuxedos that looked rather well-made. Taking a peek at the sale tag, Sinbad’s heart sank when he saw just how expensive it still was.
“Damn…Can we still just get something done at the courthouse?” He said now while Shark was staring at a beautiful crystal swan centerpiece.
Without turning around, Shark nodded.
Harwood watched with amusement as Sagebear chased her tail. He was waiting for the best time to tell her to hop up on the couch.
“Oh, isn’t she a dear?” He asked Marc while the latter was making a quick dinner for himself. “I remember wanting a dog when I was a little boy, but it wasn’t practical for a number of reasons.”
He was then quiet for a moment, apparently delving back into his past. He then went on.
“I suppose it wasn’t that my grandparents didn’t want me to have a dog. I’m sure they did. But I guess they didn’t have the means to. I mean, two elderly people, one which was in a wheelchair, and a little boy? Who was going to walk that dog?
“Still,” Harwood went on as he offered his hand for Sagebear to sniff, “I wouldn’t have minded having a Shih Tzu to warm my feet. Or even a Shar Pei to admire the wrinkles of. But Sagebear is a joy to me in this stage of life, and I’m glad for her.”
When Marc sat down after spreading peanut butter onto toast, Sagebear jumped up immediately to try and nab it.
“Gah! You’ve already eaten something earlier, I am thinking!” This didn’t deter Sagebear. She continued to sniff his face to see if he’d eaten any of his peanut butter toast.
Harwood just snickered. “Better give her what she wants. I’m pretty sure that peanut butter didn’t have xylitol in it, so she can have a little.”
“Hey, Denny,” Blaise asked as she and Dennis walked into a knife store, “Is it just me, or is Bridgeport not as exciting as I thought it was?”
Hearing her say this, Dennis breathed a sigh of relief. “It isn’t just you? Thank goodness. I guess finding Mister Rotter again along with his family was something of the high point so far.”
Blaise just huffed as she started to look at a set of butcher knives. “I guess so. Maybe sometime in the next few days, we go find someplace else a bit less…flashy?”
“Well, I’d say that could work.” Dennis then saw her eyeing the knives, and grinned. “You want me to buy a set of those for you?”
Having been given the opportunity to try them, Blaise nodded vigorously. “Ya never know when ya might need some good cutlery.”
She then held one of the knives up, apparently taken by it. Deciding that was one of the set she wanted, Dennis paid for it for her.
When they left that shop, Blaise was then the proud owner a a new set of butcher knives.
Ox-Head crawled out of his bedroom when he deemed it safe to explore. Peeking into The Builder’s room, he saw them skinning a man’s head as though it were an apple.
Seeing that they were occupied with feasting on the grey matter in front of them, he crawled on to the room with the prison cells. Much to his distorted surprise, none of the other three assistants were anywhere to be seen.
He could hear what sounded like footsteps coming from the wall, however. Trying to shake it off, Ox-Head approached the stairs.
Because he was still crawling and not looking below him, Ox-Head was caught off guard when he suddenly tumbled down the flight of stairs into the prison room.
“Owww!” He cried out. He didn’t fuss over it much more, however, when he saw who he’d been looking for. “Andromeda?”
Annette didn’t look up when she heard his name for her. Now very concerned for her, Ox-Head crawled over to her.
It was then that she looked at him, with a frightening look on her face. She gave off a broken smile, holding up a teacup.
“Hi Ox-Head,” she said with a quavering voice, “Want some tea? My daughter poured it herself.” Then she patted the face of the female doll. “Didn’t you, sweetie?”
Still torn between spending time with Annette, and running like hell out of there, Ox-Head decided that she needed a friend regardless. Kneeling down in front of the prison cell bars, he watched as she slid a teacup towards him.
With as much precision as he could manage, which was in fact very little, he carefully sipped from his cup. The entire time, he strangely noted that Annette had clearly been crying.
Later that night, Shark and Sinbad were standing at the top of a cliff overlooking the city. Shark was starry-eyed and awed at the way the buildings lit up so gorgeously.
“Wow…” Was really all he could say. “And you’ve lived here for a whole year?”
“Yeah,” Sinbad answered with a tone of admiration. “I never really came up to see it though. My bro and the old man did, but never me.”
Sidling up to him again, Shark wrapped his arms around Sinbad. “I’m glad I could be here with you then.”
“Likewise,” Sinbad murmured when he pressed his lips against Shark’s ear.
For now, things seemed to feel right again between the two. Shark was blushing as Sinbad let him away from the cliff, and back towards the truck to go to dinner.