“Chop you up like chop suey!” Stabby Mclaughtery stabbed into the air with a manic vigour. “Slice and dice you into a bloody pile of coleslaw.”

Haru stood frozen, feet plonked into the chocolaty detritus of the minty forest floor, hands ready at her sides. Calculations crunched in her head. Plans of attack spat out. She could draw her short sword, trade some steel with Stabby Mclaughtery. Might even kill him if she made the first move immediately. Thrust the point into his chest while he was still in the middle of a mad tirade. She certainly had the reach advantage and the speed. He would most definitely get wounded at least. Enough to hobble him so she could run away. However, the muddy floor was difficult to run in, let alone walk. Any element of surprise would fall to the wayside as she lunged forward and face planted into the mud. That plan would only get her nice and stabbed.

The next best move had to be the slingshot. No running required, just stand still and shoot from a distance. At the minimum her chances of getting stabbed would reduce drastically. If she could just land a blinding shot, plunk an iron ball into one of his eyes, that would keep Stabby distracted as he rolled around in pain, trying to fish out the metal marble from his eye socket while Haru made her escape from the woods. Sometimes her tactical genius well and truly frightened her.

Hand was already reaching for the slingshot in her back pocket. But she paused as her fingertips brushed up against the wooden handle. Hesitation locked the joints in her arm. Doubts racked her brain. The shot was going to be tricky with Stabby constantly jittering and shifting, his head on a bob and a swivel. A moving target was much harder to hit than a static one. A small one too. Human eyes were far more tinier than, say, the fist-sized eyeballs of a raggedy tarantula. A marksman, she was not. And a miss would end in a foot chase because she would not have enough time to get off another shot. And get viciously stabbed.

“Whoa there, friendo,” Haru said. “You don’t want to stab.”

“But I do! I have to! Stabbing is my style, my modus operandi. My only purpose in life. What am I to do if not slash and tear and gore my victims with my knife hands?”

She yanked out her boot from the chocolaty mud and took a step back. Stabby Mclaughtery took a step forward, with just as much difficulty. “Little ol’ me, though? I’m… so small. So tiny. Hardly much to stab at if you ask me.”

“I’m not gonna ask you, I’m gonna stab you!”

“Right, right. Of course you do.” She continued to retreat backwards, then mumbled to herself, “What else am I supposed to expect from a guy named Stabby Mclaughtery?” She cleared her throat. “See these fruits in my basket?”

“What about them?”

“I’m delivering these to the velocimantis ranch over there.” I pointed past him. “They fetch a lot of bouillons, but only while they’re still fresh. I can cut you in on a slice of the profits if you let me go. So what do you say, huh?”

“No.”

If only KD was here. They would have flattened Stabby in a heartbeat and be on their way, with the golden gummy fruits already delivered by now. Except KD was paralyzed, Stabby was not a human pancake, and the fruits were spoiling in her basket. And then a lightbulb flickered on.

Haru smiled widely. “I suppose there’s no stopping you. You are Stabby Mclaughtery. So stabbing is your thing.”

“Exactly!” Stabby punched the air with his knife-hands. “Stab stab!” And continued forward to put that practice into good use.

“Whoawhoawait! Before you stab me, can I at least have one last meal?”

Stabby paused, scraping the sharp edge of his knife-hand on his chin as he considered, shaving off a patch of stubble. “Okay. But I have to spill your guts afterward.”

“Definitely, yo! My word is my bond.” Haru crossed her heart and hoped not to die.

“Then go eat! Eat!”

“I will. Geez…” She reached into the basket and felt all the golden gummy fruits. All were firm except for one, which she pulled out. She held it up to her mouth but paused before she took a bite.

“I don’t have all day, girly! Either you start eating or I’m gonna start stabbing.” He jabbed with a knife-hand for emphasis.

“I know, I know, I’m just…”

“You’re what?”

“I get shy when people watch me eat.”

“Shy?”

“Mhm! It’s so bad that my stomach is in knots. So do you mind turning around maybe?”

“And let me run away? Nah. No way. Stabby Mclaugherty will get his pound of flesh and eat it too.”

“But I’m just a little girl! How can I ever run away from you, on ground like this?” She pulled at her boot exaggeratedly to further her point.

Stabby tapped his chin. “Hmm. Alright then. But do tell me when you’re done.”

She nodded forcefully and gestured for him to turn around. And he did.

“Sucker,” she whispered under her breath. The slingshot was plucked from her back pocket, the spoiling gummy fruit notched. The drawstring was pulled and she shouted, “You can turn around now!”

Stabby swung around eagerly. And then his face dropped. Because the spoiling gummy fruit was in flight. It splattered all over his face. Goop dripped from his face as he scraped at it to clean it off. But all it did was glue his knife-hands to his cheeks. This was her chance.

“Haha! See you later, loser!” And then Haru plodded through the chocolaty mud as fast as a thumping rabbit.

She was panting with her hands on her knees once after getting out of the minty forest. That was way too close for comfort. And never again would she stray from the well-beaten path. Not that it benefitted her anymore. The gummy fruits in the basket were no longer golden. And would not have splattered like they did on Stabby’s face unless they were overripe, soon to be rotting.

Her lips sputtered as she blew out a sigh.

A day of hard work: gone. Poof.

That sucked major buns. And Haru wanted to call it quits. And yet she held onto the basket and continued down the path because although the fruits were overripe, hopefully a few bouillons could still be squeezed out.

The sun started to crest down toward the horizon when Haru finally arrived at the decadent ranch. The homestead was pristine, wooden and white, with a sloped roof where solar panels laid, drinking in the sun to store as energy for later in batteries. Chirps of acknowledgement twittered in the wooden pen as she walked past the velocimentises. As far as Folded creatures go, velocimantises were rather friendly to humans despite being the size of an ostrich with scythe-like forelimbs.

“It’s alright. Artichoke won’t hurt you,” Hachita said when she introduced me to her velocimantis.

More than anything it was the three sets of eyes that bothered her, those black, unblinking pinpricks. However, after she fed it a slice of pear and heard it coo in delight as it ate, much of the fear melted as she warmed up to it. Enough so that she even learned how to ride one.

Haru jogged up the front steps of the homestead and knocked on the door. “Hello, Ranch Nan! This is Haru! I’m here with your delivery!”

No response from inside.

She knocked again. “Hello? Anybody home?”

Then there was a clatter from inside, some sort of commotion. With a brow raised, she pressed her ear against the door. The cool wood sent a chill down her spine as she listened.

“Just a minute, deary! I’m just in the middle of… putting on her knickers,” Rancher Nan said, her voice muffled and distant. The girl wrinkled her nose in horror, she did not have to know. At all. Old people were weird. “Come in! The door is open.”

Praying that a half-naked nanny was not on the other side, Haru twisted the brass knob and pushed the door in.

The inside of the homestead was nothing but frills, laces and doilies upon every conceivable surface, like cobwebs in a ruin. The floor, walls and ceiling was lacquered wood. A smoking kettle sat on a wood stove, with a tea pot uncapped and waiting for hot water. Alongside meat slices, lettuce and cheese, the makings of a sandwich that had yet to be assembled.

“Rancher Nan?” Haru called out.

“Upstairs, deary!” Her voice echoed down from upstairs.

“I got your gummy fruits. Want me to just leave them on the table?”

“Can you bring them up, please? I’m… uh… bedridden with a cold.”

Haru groaned and trudged up the stairs, the things she did to get paid. “The gummy fruits are a little ripe but I assure you,” she said as she made her way to the room, “that still as fresh and juicy as when I picked them earlier today. So don’t let its looks deceive you. Because I guarantee you that it’s worth full—”

The girl stopped dead with her basket. In the reflection of the long standing mirror in the bedroom was Rancher Nan. Except something was off. Stupidly off. Because tucked into bed, the sheet hiked up over her nose, was a pair of piercing made eyes and glinting knives for hands.