Snippet #373178

In the school's playground, the kids were running in circles from the fair today. Today, there were stalls were the teachers could get pelted with water, you can win cakes or small choking hazards disguised as toys. A huge, inflatable shape wobbled in the background as though tortured by the children leaping around inside. Apparently, one of the Moogle's had to go in here. Stands to reason, Tyro thought. They need as much protection as any other. So, heaving the machine towards the corner of the yard, he decided to walk around rather than in front of children armed with soaking sponges against their elderly headteacher. You could smell hints of cinnamon and coffee from the baking table. One, near the nursery, was selling toffee apples. A huge bowl of scarlet syrup was placed in the shade on top of a toy box. Then two men passed Tyro. Both of them were making full sized puppets act out a strange play for the captivated four year olds. One was a matted clown-thing...They didn't seem to do anything about trying to make it not look like a puppet. Its tatty suit of every garish colour you could find in a toddler's paint pot had onside of its coat covered in a line of pockets. One of its shoes was sewn to its trouser leg while the other seemed to dangle from invisible string. The same for its hands. One attached to a huge sleeve, the other seem separate.
"Your no match for Murfy Smurfy the Fedorious!" The black zipper on the white canvas of its face moved vaguely with what the man behind was saying with a strange high pitch. One hand moved to look like the bright green fedora hat was lifted of the bed of red curls. Tyro couldn't help but smirk at the puppet's ridiculous name. The other that Murfy seemed to be fighting was a ragged, scarlet fox creature that stood on two large black 'paws'...well, weighted bags of rice. Two limp, stuffed tails with white tips hung behind it. The fox retorted against Murfy, raising a hung arm into the air.
"Not if I don't set you on fire first!" flames roared upwards into the sky away from the impressed kids. Tyro decided that maybe he should set the increasingly heave Moogle down. So, carrying onwards towards the corner of the school's playground he dismissed any thoughts of seeing someone that looked like Yuffie and readied they keyblade. So, relaxed. Light, fire, shoom. The Moogle comes online!
BANG!
Tyro wheeled round to see what the sudden crash had caused. It wasn't particularly difficult to find. He was able to use his keyblade to barter to the front of the slowly growing crowd. It seemed that the bowl of red syrup for the candy apples had exploded along with the toy box underneath. No one was seriously hurt, just a few nursing cuts from the flying glass. The toys had fallen in a frighteningly familiar pattern, covered in the red, sugary gloop. A light hand fell on his shoulder. A squeaky voice spoke.
"Were you expecting blood?" It was the voice of the fox puppet. That didn't seem right. Someone's trying to talk to him in the most indirect way possible: through his dreams. Sadly, all their saying so far was "Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyaaah! I can make you dream whatever I want!". Right, so lets see who right? Tyro's elbow flew in an arc towards the puppeteers head. It connected with something that gave way easily. Tyro hoped that was cartilage. Another strike as he turned with an uppercut made the head snap back. Not simply move but make a nasty crack as it jerked backwards. Then Tyro grabbed the black top and yanked the mask off. The head wasn't a head but a now mangled, wooden frame. As Tyro released it, puppet and wooden man collapsed to the floor.
"I'm dealing with a nutjob..."