Petty Squabble [ROUND 3] [Goldhenge]

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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Parsley was having an unpleasant day, for a variety of reasons.

The primary reason, of course, was that he had made no progress in stopping the demon. "John Smith" had gotten away, and all of Parsley's conventional tracking methods were useless in the face of a foe who could control what he saw.

Being forced to work with Baron Stein did nothing to help his mood. Although the Baron was too engrossed in his science to genuinely ally himself with demons - he'd be more likely to try to capture one and study it - he was hardly a paragon of virtue. Stein cared little for his fellow man, and saw others as nothing more than test subjects. And now he was Parsley's only hope for saving the village.

Then, of course, there was the matter of Sir Archibald. Between his temper and his overconfidence, Archibald had a penchant for falling afoul of demonic trickery in general; against this demon's masterful illusions, the damned fool had no chance on his own. And if he was still running around in the Baron's hidden laboratory, he might yet unleash even worse disasters than these mechanical abominations.

On top of all that, there was the fact that the damned flying machine wasn't flying.

"What the hell is wrong with ye, Stein? Why aren't we in the air yet?"

In desperation, Tom tried to offer an explanation that might placate the knife-wielding madman.

"Uh, the, uh, lift mechanism must be damaged, yeah. This was, er, a test flight to, um, see how long it would hold up? Yeah, we'll have to settle for ground mode. I mean, I could stop to fix it, but it would take time, and aren't you in a hurry?"

Tom really hoped that would work.

Parsley grumbled something under his breath, but didn't press the issue further. Much as he despised Stein, the safety of the villagers came first.

"Fine. So what can ye tell me about these machines of yers? You built the damn things, you must know their weaknesses."

Tom realized he'd have to come up with something, and fast. This became easier when he realized it could give him an excuse to get the knife-wielding madman out of the RV and away from him and the baby.

"Well, um, er, um. Ah. That is - their, um, fuel line? Yeah, it needs to, um, ventilate. That's it. If you clog up the ventilation pipe with something, they'll overheat."

"Good. We'll set up an ambush, and then you can disable 'em."

"M-me?"

"Listen, Stein, if it were up to me, I'd not trust ye with this job. But with the demon's illusion, I can't trust me own eyes. Yer the one who knows where this ventilation whatever is. I'll be goin' with ye to make sure ye don't try to run off or cause any mischief, of course. But the fact is, much as I wish it were otherwise, I need yer goddamn help."

Parsley wasn't the only one in the RV having a bad day.