The Trash King's throne room
Jul. 12th, 2021 12:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trashiestking"Ughhhh, fiiiiine," the Trash King said, looking at the disruptions in his compound. "You'd think people with so much trash would learn how to share."
Said the guy seated in a beat up old lawn chair on top of a giant pile of refuse.
An announcement went out over the intercom, blasting through the preserve.
"Dear annoying interlopers! Please send representatives to my office RIGHT NOW! I am opening up direct access for only three people. Anyone else tries to come in, they get HOLED."
When they arrived, the representatives would find a long dark hallway, lined with tempting donuts on the floor and lit alcoves containing key items that had fallen down the holes through the week. There was an a fire extinguisher from the fire station. A pin from Fast Eddie's. An empty cup from Chilly Boulder. Other assorted bits and bobs that most people would not think of as worth all that much, treated like fine art.
At the end of the hall was a room, equally as dark as the hall. The Trash King's towering throne was a vague outline in the darkness, the Trash King himself a menacing (or, well, attempted-menacing) figure standing on top.
The smell in here was probably . . . a lot.
Said the guy seated in a beat up old lawn chair on top of a giant pile of refuse.
An announcement went out over the intercom, blasting through the preserve.
"Dear annoying interlopers! Please send representatives to my office RIGHT NOW! I am opening up direct access for only three people. Anyone else tries to come in, they get HOLED."
When they arrived, the representatives would find a long dark hallway, lined with tempting donuts on the floor and lit alcoves containing key items that had fallen down the holes through the week. There was an a fire extinguisher from the fire station. A pin from Fast Eddie's. An empty cup from Chilly Boulder. Other assorted bits and bobs that most people would not think of as worth all that much, treated like fine art.
At the end of the hall was a room, equally as dark as the hall. The Trash King's towering throne was a vague outline in the darkness, the Trash King himself a menacing (or, well, attempted-menacing) figure standing on top.
The smell in here was probably . . . a lot.
no subject
Date: 2021-07-13 03:51 pm (UTC)Outside, the rotor noises turned into a trash-rattling explosion. The Trash King groaned. There went his quad outer.
“Attention all raccoons!” he sent over the PA. “Call off the holes! A bunch of whiny nerds want their trash back!”
no subject
Date: 2021-07-13 04:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-07-13 04:03 pm (UTC)Curse his tiny, tiny, rage filled body.
no subject
Date: 2021-07-13 04:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-07-13 04:47 pm (UTC)He picked up the tablet again. "All construction raccoons: begin working on a big-ass catapult to send all the whiny little nerd babies back up to the surface!"
He rolled his eyes. "Are you happy now? Will you leave the rest of my trash alone?"
no subject
Date: 2021-07-13 05:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-07-13 05:21 pm (UTC)Or at least close. That ice cream shop was probably a disaster.
no subject
Date: 2021-07-13 05:36 pm (UTC)A beat.
". . . Or leave one? They look like fun. . . ."
no subject
Date: 2021-07-13 05:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-07-13 06:30 pm (UTC)