(no subject)
Written in response to this comic; will probably be Jossed.
Doomed Tourist
It was a slow day for souvenirs. Hieronymus blamed the new Heterodyne Heir. He was a good Mechanicsburgher; he knew that good Heterodynes -- or at least, pleasantly marketable Heterodynes -- were dead Heterodynes. And this one was a girl -- as if they hadn't heard enough outlandish stories already.
The bell at the front of the shop gave a ting, and a young lady in a pink dress walked in. "Do you have something suitable for mounting on a dirigible?" she asked him loudly. Definitely a rich tourist -- maybe a girl on her honeymoon; the husband must be waiting outside holding the shoeboxes and souvenirs.
"Well, I don't know, what were you looking for? We have some nice little decals for little two-person ships, you know, 'I Love Mechanicsburgh' only with a trilobite instead of---"
"No, no, I need something larger. And I'd like just a trilobite. Your sign says 'Trilobites For All Occasions,' doesn't it? That's what I want."
"...for all occasions, eh? Well, we've got some nice earrings, and cufflinks, and there's this nice brooch..."
"I'll take them," she said quickly.
"...Well. All right. Which ones?"
"One of everything. Two of the earrings, and -- ah, lapel pins. Is this a barrette? It'll do. But do you have anything suitable for a dirigible? Something visible from the ground?"
"...not really," he said, frowning. She was in an awful hurry for a tourist. These tourists, they always thought they were the most important people in the city. Maybe it wasn't a honeymoon -- maybe she was having a Heterodyne-themed wedding.
"Well, then. How much do I owe you for these?"
"Do you want me to giftwrap 'em?" he asked.
"No, that won't be necessary."
"Well, all right, then -- wait a minute, I think I've got just the thing for your ship."
She watched as he grabbed a ladder from the store-room, and followed him outside. He looked up at the sign above the shop: "Pygidium's Trilobites For All Occasions," it said, with a gold-painted wooden trilobite on each side. "I'll be just a minute -- but these'll be a little expensive."
"Price is no object," she said quickly.
Good. Just what he wanted to hear. Definitely a wedding, he thought. "Wonderful -- why don't you go back inside while I take these down, and see if there's anything more you want."
And as she left, up to her eyebrows in trilobites, Hieronymus counted the cash, and wished there were more tourists like her.
Doomed Tourist
It was a slow day for souvenirs. Hieronymus blamed the new Heterodyne Heir. He was a good Mechanicsburgher; he knew that good Heterodynes -- or at least, pleasantly marketable Heterodynes -- were dead Heterodynes. And this one was a girl -- as if they hadn't heard enough outlandish stories already.
The bell at the front of the shop gave a ting, and a young lady in a pink dress walked in. "Do you have something suitable for mounting on a dirigible?" she asked him loudly. Definitely a rich tourist -- maybe a girl on her honeymoon; the husband must be waiting outside holding the shoeboxes and souvenirs.
"Well, I don't know, what were you looking for? We have some nice little decals for little two-person ships, you know, 'I Love Mechanicsburgh' only with a trilobite instead of---"
"No, no, I need something larger. And I'd like just a trilobite. Your sign says 'Trilobites For All Occasions,' doesn't it? That's what I want."
"...for all occasions, eh? Well, we've got some nice earrings, and cufflinks, and there's this nice brooch..."
"I'll take them," she said quickly.
"...Well. All right. Which ones?"
"One of everything. Two of the earrings, and -- ah, lapel pins. Is this a barrette? It'll do. But do you have anything suitable for a dirigible? Something visible from the ground?"
"...not really," he said, frowning. She was in an awful hurry for a tourist. These tourists, they always thought they were the most important people in the city. Maybe it wasn't a honeymoon -- maybe she was having a Heterodyne-themed wedding.
"Well, then. How much do I owe you for these?"
"Do you want me to giftwrap 'em?" he asked.
"No, that won't be necessary."
"Well, all right, then -- wait a minute, I think I've got just the thing for your ship."
She watched as he grabbed a ladder from the store-room, and followed him outside. He looked up at the sign above the shop: "Pygidium's Trilobites For All Occasions," it said, with a gold-painted wooden trilobite on each side. "I'll be just a minute -- but these'll be a little expensive."
"Price is no object," she said quickly.
Good. Just what he wanted to hear. Definitely a wedding, he thought. "Wonderful -- why don't you go back inside while I take these down, and see if there's anything more you want."
And as she left, up to her eyebrows in trilobites, Hieronymus counted the cash, and wished there were more tourists like her.