After an extended soapy ride that was only remotely soothing to one group, you all somehow made it out alive. The final Denizen puffed a little extra air your way in goodbye as Neko-Neko led you to the nearby door and a freshly-laundered creature followed along. Your thumbless stationmaster still needed help getting the thing open, but what choice did you have? After all the chaos, you weren’t sure keeping everyone in a smaller space than necessary was such a great idea. Of course, jumping off the rails into the wasteland wouldn’t be a much better idea, so onto the next car you went.
What appeared to be a small, two-floor shopping mall stretched out in front of you—though you couldn’t get a good look from the entrance before nearly tripping on a large charging station. At least a dozen Segways stood pristine in their almost-stalls, seeming to beckon to you.
But even more noticeable than that was the fact that you were no longer in whatever you were wearing upon entering. Though you certainly hadn’t changed yourself, you now wore a perfectly-fitting uniform of some sort, and so did the others beside you—everyone but Neko-Neko and the creature. Half of you now wore what appeared to be knockoff police uniforms, while the other half was decked out in in obscuring black, ski masks included. Considering the apparent theme, you really didn’t feel like everyone got the costume they were supposed to…
If you had complaints, the bright blue bouncyball now approaching you seemed to hold himself with the authority to broker them—if not the desire to. With no facial features but a moustache and a large pair of sunglasses with no eyes to cover, it was a bit hard to guess at any expressions here. But he still had no trouble speaking.
“Welcome, recruits!” He seemed to scan those in ski masks. “And… volunteers.” He made a throat-clearing noise and straightened up, however that worked for a bouncyball. “I am your instructor, Plart, but you’d best refer to me as Sir. As of today, you will be receiving training in the art of mall policing—or acting as those we must police against. If you aren’t happy with the role you’ve been given…” He faced away in thought before suddenly spinning back—“then too bad! I will not tolerate slacking on either side. Without a little conflict, you’ll never learn what you have to.”
He pulled away a bit, nodding at the Segways. “Each of you, choose your steed. They’ll serve you well—if you serve them.” Whatever that meant. “Mastering your steed is a critical part of mall policing, and we’ll have a course for you to prove yourself. Of course, the real test will be how well you can stop or execute a robbery… But you’d best acclimate yourselves to your roles before you go jumping into the final exam.”
He gave the distinct impression of someone crossing his arms. “You can find me anytime if you require further instruction—I’ll be making the rounds to ensure you’re all doing your part, but I’ll be stationed in front of the Mall Prison just as often. If there are no questions, you are dismissed.”
Oh, there were questions—but how many of them would this guy answer? Switching sides apparently wasn’t an option, and you had the feeling even an imposing bouncyball mall cop couldn’t overthrow Neko-Neko so easily. There didn’t seem to be much to do but choose your “steed” and explore the mall—whether that be as a cop or a robber.
Plart hopped onto a Segway and, with no physical explanation for being able to successfully operate it, wheeled away into the halls.
—
[Car Reference Post]
