Snippet #2508306

Kris Metzger

Kris silently raised one eyebrow at the pair of Adam and Euphemia, glancing bemusedly between the two. "I suppose there's something between these two that I'm not exactly privy to. Probably best to keep their private business private." He thought, glancing down at his feet and counting the golems. "One, two, yadda yadda, nine. Nine of the boys. Who's missing?" Kris continued thinking, moving towards the back of the display containing the beef. Reaching in distractedly, Kris looked up at Lifaria with a slightly puzzled expression. "Unfortunately, I'm not too fatherly. One of the golems ain't in here and I cannot for the life of me figure out who it is. It seems like they're all here, sure, but there's just one in particular that ran off somewhere." Kris replied, gesturing with his free hand towards the various golems trying to hand him things.

He grabbed at the butcher paper Little man held in his paws, managing to knock it to the floor and irritate the golem, who picked it up and firmly placed it back into Kris's hands with a croak. Kris nodded silently and stood up, spreading the paper across the scale on the counter and laying meat on top of it, measuring out the appropriate amount. "Alright, so this is the beef, Ms. Magdalena. If you'll give me a second to tie it up I'll get the pork ready to go and you can go on about your day. And to answer your earlier comment; unfortunately, in spite of their enthusiasm, the boys don't quite have the reach to get every spot when they clean. I usually end up cleaning up after the end of the day anyway, but it keeps them busy to give things a once over. Now, where'd that twine end up?" Kris said, waving distractedly at Adam as he left and looking between the golems holding their items aloft and fidgeting.

Outside, Sweepy watched Fox and the rest who chose to stay outside quietly, though with slightly more trepidation than might be warranted in Fox's case. The cigar, extinguished and now bent and slightly chewed looking, stayed wedged under his upper jaw, wiggling slightly as he looked around. Becoming apparently somewhat bored with the situation at hand, with people coming and going and carrying on conversations that didn't praise him or tell him what to do, Sweepy grabbed the cigar with one paw and gently dropped it in the ashtray before launching himself off the seat, waddling with intent towards the book store or someplace similar, where people who would inevitably tell him to do something would be.