The Gravity of the Situation

“It’s the Loot Sisters!” the goblin on the left laughs, an olive-studded toothpick clenched between his teeth. “Should we baptize them with fire?” A spurt of fire shoots from the flame thrower he’s holding.

Erd, looking cranky, hefts his rocket launcher. “You should know when to give up!”

Rach points her sword at him. “Drop your weapons!”

I brush the hilt of my dagger, calculating the distance.

“So, I’m not limited to bombs now?” Felicia asks, tentative. "Hold on to your hats, gals!" A rustle, click, then the unwelcome sensation of my stomach twisting.

“Felicia, what–?”

Gravity fails.