The Shop

>Even we're at a loss how we screwed up this badly.

Asche:
"Ok, let's take a step back. Think things through, yeah?
The things here might be petty, but they aren't aggressive. I mean, not without reason.

So — Let's not aggravate them any more than we need?"

>"listen here you dumb-wooden-cyclops-lookin ass bitch shiz door, I'll fuckin honk ya into the gosh dang statosphere if you don't stop this black magic, witchcraftian shit, you flat fuck."

Asche:
"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?!"

>Examine Incubator while threatening door.

The incubator has shattered.
In its place is a Lesser Wing of the Black Sun.


Lesser Wing of the Black Sun has joined your party.
Gem of Transmogrification has been returned to your inventory.

Asche:
"Huh, and who's this cute fellow?"

>Someone's gonna take the fall for this, but it ain't gonna be you, see? Pin this all on that patsy Asche. Berate the pinhead for messing up so badly. Also, you're a 1930s Era mobster, for some reason. Got a fedora?

You berate Asche, astounded by the incompetence he has displayed so far.

Asche:
"Excuse you? I'm not the one bloody throwing things about and trying to START FIGHTS WITH THE SCARY DOOR."

Um... Doot?
Try to attract attention from whatever's lurking here

Asche:
"Oh."

Damn right there's no need for alarm, Your job here is done. Doot ye up an exit hole

You attempt to doot a tear in the fabric of reality.
However, it seems you yet lack the skill to do this.