Swamped

You think back to your youth - which is technically now. You had to deal with more than a few elderly townspeople at the hospital, and you remember something they usually brought up.

The occupation.

It wasn't a very long occupation - the army left within a month, apparently out of discontent for their commander more than any acts of defiance by the townspeople. But it certainly seemed like everyone old enough to remember it had a story.

The town is short on official rememberances, though, probably because it was over so quickly. There's a plaque at the town hall commemorating it, you think. Which means an out-of-towner would be confused about it.

Well, it's a start.

"When exactly did she leave, again? Was it before the occupation, or after?"

You don't see any obvious signs of confusion, but it does seem to take her a while to answer.

"Even if it was before, I bet a group like this wouldn't care. They'd probably stage a scene with her chasing off soldiers. Bet it'd be a big hit with the crowd."

She said "soldiers". That's interesting. The elderly patients you talked to always used a more colorful nickname for them.

The red bellied rabbits

They were called the "red bellied rabbits", because their uniforms were mostly white save for a patch of red armor around their torsos. Often shortened to "redbellies", or occasionally "bunnies".

It never even struck you as that meanspirited, really. It just served to deprive them of what little menace they had. So it's odd to call them "soldiers" - that's a much more neutral term.

This strengthens your suspicions, but it still isn't confirmation. You think you know where to go with it, though.

"That does sound fun to watch, but I doubt they'd be able to get the right uniforms. Even fake red armor can't be that easy to get ahold of."

"True, but look at all the youngsters here," the old woman chuckles. "Who's even going to know what they looked like? Probably all anybody knows is their uniforms were red, so they're not going to care if it's armor or a fancy jacket."

And now you're sure. This "old woman" is bluffing.

That's really all you need to know, you suppose. But perhaps there's something more you can get out of this conversation before you end it.

Too bad you don't have a drink you could spill to see if they happen to have any of that paper

You notice their glass - it's barely touched. It reminds you of the cheap paper used to write the note you found.

If you spilled the drink - or had one of your own to spill - you might be able to see if they had any of the paper.

But you don't really have the sleight of hand to do that without making it obvious it's deliberate. Of course, it would be a simple matter with magic, but you still don't entirely understand what happened the last time you tried a spell. You're not going to risk it to move a glass.

Wait a moment, though. The glass is on the table. That should be easy to pass off as a careless accident.

"Well, I suppose we'll see what they ended up doing soon enough," you reply. You turn around, bumping the table as you do, enough to shake it a little.

"Oops! Sorry, that was careless of me." You turn around again - yes, there's a small spill on the table.

"No matter," the "old woman" replies. "Didn't spill that much and it's not like I was that thirsty anyhow."

They pull out something. It's that low-quality paper.

But there's something a little odd about it compared to the sheet the note was on.

It's slimy!

There's a spot of something on the paper already. It reminds you of the unusual slime you found on Mortimer's shoe. But you only catch a glimpse, and asking about it would be risky. Why would you take an interest in it unless you already knew something?

So you just keep it in mind, sit down, and wait for the show to start. A few minutes later, someone in a very flashy outfit steps onto the stage.

"Welcome, Port Sarvakken!" they exclaim. "We've had a lovely time in your city, but sadly, we'll have to leave it at the crack of dawn. But rest assured, we won't be leaving you unsatisfied! Tonight's show will be extra-special. We've added a few extra scenes for tonight only, and in fact, one of them will be right at the start. And let me assure you, it's one you won't want to miss."

They walk up and down the length of the stage.

"Of course, we mean to surprise you with these scenes, and every one of them will take your breath away. But I think I can let you in on a little hint as to what one of them will be about, just to whet your appetites."

Merpeople!

"That's wet as in the sea," the speaker continues. "If you're the sort who loves to hear stories of the merfolk, well, I think you'll find tonight's show very interesting. But if you want to know any more than that, you'll have to stay and watch!"

With a flourish, they step off the stage. The lights dim, and the curtain rises.

You think you spot someone getting up, but it's too dark to be sure who it is. Perhaps it's part of the show? Or perhaps they're informing somebody else that it's started.

Well, the informant's probably better prepared to deal with that than you are. You might as well watch the show - apparently, the first scene is one of the new ones.

There's only one actor on the stage. They're holding up a mask - the traditional sort of mask for portraying a god. This one is very clearly Nual.

"People of Port Sarvakken!" the actor cries out. "Know this - Matilda Laikenne had my blessing! By turning against her, you defied me!"

You've never seen one of these scenes before, but you've heard about them. Plays sometimes try to shame local leadership by presenting their acts as against the will of the god with the most influence. It only occasionally works.

Complaining about their treatment of one woman years ago seems odd, especially as you don't recall hearing that she was formally punished. But it could make sense if the actor sharing her name really is a relative.

Still, there's something much more specific that seems strange about the scene.

The actor's clothing is totally inappropriate.

It takes you a little bit to realize it, mostly because it's been a while since you've seen the gods in a show.

That isn't the proper robe. There's a specific one for each god. That robe is for portraying Alac.

You find you're thinking about it more than the actual scene, largely because the actor isn't doing much. Mostly generic preaching about the sins of the council.

"Know this - if Matilda Laikenne is not properly honored by this city within one year's time, I will send a grand flood through your streets! This is your only warning!"

And that's the end of it. The actor walks off, and two more walk on. No masks this time, so they must just be people.

Wait, hold on - you think you recognize one of them.

Didn't you go to school with that kid?

It's Lee. One of the few people you remember from your time in school.

Not because you were close, mind you. More of because they were constantly getting in trouble, usually when you were near enough to get a share of the blame.

They probably joined the troupe earlier. Patterson didn't mention them when listing the new actors.

"Can you believe old man Mackenzie?" Lee grumbles. "I work all night for him and he gives me a damn penny for it. And I had to haggle pretty hard just to squeeze that out of him. Not like he's hard up, either."

"No kidding. Especially since he just sold one of his ships. I know 'cause I was sailin' it and the new boss doesn't want me around."

"No fooling? If I'd known that, I might have tried to hold out for five pennies. Then again, I got better things to do with my time."

It continues for a while. A fairly basic comedy routine where the two of them talk about how miserly Mackenzie is. And, of course, a few minutes in, a very noticeable man in a fancy coat and hat steps onstage.

And you have a hunch about how this is going to proceed. One of them will spot Mackenzie as the other is going into a full rant on what an awful person he is, and there's going to be a solid two minutes where the first one is trying to warn the other, until Mackenzie clears his throat and interrupts.

The scene proceeds more or less as you expect - one of the workers starts listing off various insults about Mackenzie's selfish, thoughtless ways.

Although... one of those insults strikes you as a little strange.

The miser would sell his soul to the forgotten god for another coin.

"I swear, that halfwit old miser Mackenzie would sell his soul to the forgotten god for a penny, 'cause there's no way he'd get any more than that!"

The forgotten god is meant to be a secret. Yet here it is, just being blurted out by an actor.

Lee is the one making a shocked face as Mackenzie walks closer towards them. This is the moment, you expect.

"I was looking for someone to fix up my roof," he says, irritated. "But it seems I'll need to find laborers of better taste."

The actor turns around, nervously.

"Mr. Mackenzie, sir! Wonderful to see you! How's business been?"

"It was a good deal better before my roof started leaking. Right as the rainy season is opening. And the thatcher's asking price is far too high. Nearly a whole day's revenue!"

You're definitely getting a sense of why Monty was unimpressed. This is a decidedly average performance. Filled with cliche, and the actors aren't really doing much with the material. The audience isn't reacting much either, until Mackenzie turns his back and the workers make faces at him. That gets some laughs.

And you have to admit, the physical comedy of it is well-staged. Perhaps if they focused more on that, it would be more entertaining.

Mackenzie says a few more lines to cement himself as a ridiculous caricature, and then walks off. The scene shifts.

And it soon becomes clear that you can expect quite a bit more physical comedy in this one.

The unfaithful spouse is trying to distract their partner so the love interest (who's hiding behind pieces of furniture) can leave the house unnoticed.

There's a simple backdrop of the inside of a house, with several pieces of furniture.

"Darling, please," the woman sighs. "You must leave that horrid man, for both our sakes. He has money, but nothing else."

"Lot of good the money is doing me," the man agrees. "He won't even spend it on fixing the roof! But I can't. I was a fool when I signed our wedding agreement, but he was as ruthless as ever. If I leave, I'll be penniless."

"I can find you a new job! It can't be worse than living with him."

"It's not as bad as you'd think. He's hardly ever around. Only gets bad when he won't pay for repairs to the damn house."

"Arthur!" the miser suddenly calls out from offstage. "I'm home. Couldn't find anyone to fix the damn roof."

The pair look at each other and gasp.

"You'd best hide," Arthur says. "I'll keep his attention."

"How? With a penny?"

They both chuckle, and the woman hides behind a chair as Mackenzie walks in.

"Laborers in this town are so unreasonable," Mackenzie grumbles, sitting down in that very chair. "First they demand you cover all the parts they use, but on top of that, they demand a fee for their labor! Imagine! Should I pay them a fee for breathing, as well? Perhaps for eating? I certainly won't be paying them anything for talking back."

"We can afford it, though," Arthur says.

"Oh, it may seem we can afford it today. But suppose we give in to these demands. Then how much will it cost next time, hmm? The time after that? No, you have to be firm or they'll walk away with everything you've got." He suddenly gets up. "Which reminds me. Didn't I ask you to sell this chair? We've already got two."

He moves the chair away, only for Arthur to quickly move to the spot where it was. Just as fast, the woman slips behind another chair.

"I thought you liked that one best."

"I said it was the most comfortable. That means it should fetch the best price."

They definitely seem most at home with the maneuvering. The conversation continues, with a few more sudden shifts. Unfortunately, the banter never gets all that witty.

You have to admit, though, you laugh when the woman finally runs towards the side of the stage, only to suddenly run back as someone else walks on. And you can't immediately tell what this new person's role is.

Though it becomes clear soon enough.

A burglar?!

The newcomer immediately backs away on seeing Mackenzie and Arthur. The couple walks to one side, and the newcomer walks out of the scene, towards the center of the stage.

"Can't believe it!" they say incredulously. "The house was supposed to be empty! This was my chance to slip in and find that fortune Mackenzie refuses to spend! But I had no luck, and I took too long, and now they're both back! Not like I can take anything else, either - it's all cheap stuff. I'm going to need to wait until there's a good chance to slip out."

And with that, they hide behind the last chair, before Mackenzie and Arthur take the focus again. The arguing resumes, and several chair-swaps happen, until it gets to the point that the mistress and the burglar attempt to swap chairs and collide right with each other.

This, of course, makes such a loud noise that the other two promptly turn to look at them.

"Who in blazes are you?" Mackenzie asks angrily.

The woman panics, and gets up.

"I'm terribly sorry. You see, our employer heard about your roof, and wanted to surprise you by paying us to repair it while you were out. But then you came back earlier than we expected, and it was a bit more complicated than we thought it would be, so we hadn't gotten past taking measurements yet..."

"What she said," the intruder agrees readily. "Sorry. I knew this was a terrible idea, but our employer insisted on secrecy, so here we are."

"Hmmph," Mackenzie grumbles. He's clearly unconvinced. "Secrecy. A very convenient excuse for not telling me who this supposed employer of yours is, hmm?"

"Oh, that's simple," says a voice from offstage. "It's me."

And thus Matilda Laikenne makes her entrance.

Wow! Except, why are people in the audience booing?

You had heard Matilda Laikenne was a polarizing figure.

You weren't expecting to hear a chorus of boos at a show explicitly named after her. Perhaps a mixed reception, but you don't hear anyone clapping or cheering. Just boos.

This was almost certainly planned. But why? An act of protest? Is it part of the show? Or were they merely expecting something else to happen?

Whatever the reason, Matilda continues the scene undeterred. Mackenzie, too, seems to be able to keep the show going. This seems to be her first attempt to trick him, and he's proving highly suspicious, but his eyes light up whenever she mentions her "fortune".

But as the scene continues, you can't help but notice that one of the other actors seems thrown off.

The would-be robber might have been hoping for a more sympathetic audience

The thief keeps staring into the audience, looking befuddled. At one point, Arthur has to give them a nudge to get them to say a line.

Perhaps this is one of the newer actors? An experienced member surely would have dealt with a hostile audience before.

You feel like the plot is getting worse, though. The robber and the mistress seemed to mainly be there for slapstick, but now Matilda's talking to them. Making a veiled job offer of some kind, you think. And you don't see why that's even in there - if she needs underlings in a later scene, they ought to have enough actors that there's no need to reuse these two.

You're more interested in what she's trying to do with Mackenzie, but that part of the scene feels like it's stalled. She dropped a little story about losing her title and having a plan to get it back, but it's not really clear what she wants from him. Besides money, obviously, which he's not really eager to spend.

Fortunately, that picks up a little after the pair have made clear they're accepting her offer. Matilda turns back to Mackenzie and gets straight to the point.

She's looking for investors who appreciate the value of good dividends. In fact, that's the name of the song she's about to sing.

Specifically, she breaks out into song.

It's a little hard to follow at first - it's filled with puns about money, some of which might be double entendres. But the main thrust of it, she wants Mackenzie to invest in her new company. She implies her plan is to make new buildings, and once it gets underway she'll be able to finance an effort to get her title back.

Naturally, Mackenzie sings back his response.

"Talk is cheap, and I should know.
Before I buy, you'll have to show
That this is going to turn a profit.
Otherwise, I'm staying off it."

The lyrics really aren't very good. He's doing what he can with them, though.

You don't pay much attention to Matilda's reply, though. It's something about a guarantee. But you're more focused on the thief, who seems to be doing something behind one of the chairs.

At first you wonder if they're sobbing, disappointed by the crowd's reaction. Until you spot an object in their hand that makes you think something else is going on.