The guard stares you down stubbornly. There’s no way this is going to be worth the
hassle. Maybe you can deal with the
worst of the mess and let them know afterwards.
It might be an act of sabotage, but it’s merely an annoying one.
About twenty minutes later, you’re covered
in the most putrid green mess imaginable.
You’re not sure why it’s green, but you try not to worry about it too
much. You’ve only touched one of twelve
restrooms in this monstrosity of a building, and they all need your special
touch.
You’ll definitely have to get cleaned up
before seeing Dryll and the rest of the council. You may be accustomed to the ickier parts of
your job, but that doesn’t mean they want to see it.
“Gotta move on to the next bathroom,” you
tell yourself as you grab your trusty mop and bucket.
Then you notice something alarming. Your skin is starting to blister. Large, puss-filled sores are springing up all
over your forearms.
A.)
If you run to the council to beg for help,
click HERE.
B.)
If you head straight into the shower to rinse
the grime off, click HERE.
No comments:
Post a Comment