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Ed was grateful that Con pushed his drink away, having definitely bitten off more than he could chew. He let out another cough to hide his embarrassment with his actions. Always the ambitious one, wasn’t he? That’s what he was often told. Ah, but phooey on those who frowned upon ambition! It was good to reach for the stars, even if you fall time and time again. One day you’ll get there. You just have to work for it.

That’s what he always told himself anyway.

His mother tended to not be quite so positive about his dreams. She always said that the only thing her Eddy could hope for in life was failure. There was no light in the path that he chose, and he certainly wouldn’t ever be half the success that his two brothers were. But he’d show her. He’d made thneed, hadn’t he? That was step one! And his ticket to step two was sitting next to him at a bar with a big Irish smile on his face.

Con leaned in very close to Ed, making him feel alert as though he needed to give him his undivided attention. Being this close to a stranger would make him uncomfortable under normal circumstances, but there was something friendly and likeable about Con. He was a person to be trusted… well, as far as Ed knew anyway. There would always be that dull suspicion in the back of his mind that maybe putting his trust into this guy wasn’t the best move to make. Ed had a habit of relying on no one but himself, and that wasn’t going to change this soon in the game.

“How do I feel about it?” Ed mused, looking up at the ceiling as if to find an answer, “How do I feel about it…” He feigned pondering the idea, putting a finger to his chin, until a grin betrayed his true feelings and his gleeful blue eyes met Con’s. “Pretty darn excited, that’s how I feel!! Feidhelm, if you think you can handle it, you’ve got yourself a business partner!” He extended a hand, thinking that a proper shaking would seal the deal.

Connall grinned back at Ed, chuckling a bit as he shook his hand and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. Everything had gone perfectly to plan, and now he had the kid right where he wanted him. Of course, he really did like Ed, and everything he said had been true, strictly speaking.. But there was, of course, a selfish motive in nearly everything Con did. He was hardly a charity kind of guy, he didn’t help people just for the sake of helping them. That kind of thing was for the elder Wilde brother that worked under him. Which was fine, just as long as it didn’t get in the way of his work for Con.

Regardless, it just so happened that this time, it worked to the advantage of both parties if they worked together.

“Great! Glad ta have ya on board, mate! Call me Connall. Or Con, if you like. That’s what my friends call me. Speakin o’ which..” He straightened up and laid some money for the drinks on the bar, nodding to the bartender before turning back to Ed, gesturing to the door. “Do ya have time now, Ed? I’d like ta introduce ya to that friend o’ mine that works in th’ labs. After all, he’s the one ye’ll be workin’ with most.” He smiled. “I’m sure th’ two of ya will get along great.”

Ed smiled with gratitude when Connall payed for the drinks. He liked this guy! What was his family always going on about when they said people were cruel? Not everybody was SO bad. Even if his product was AMAZING and taking Ed under his wing was beneficial to Con’s business, the way he was going about it was very casual and kind. At any rate, he totally appreciated it.

“Uhh, yeah!” Ed answered with a sort of slanted smile. “I’m not really doing anything for the rest of the day, it’d be cool to meet my new business partner.” ‘Business partner’… the words practically tingled on Ed’s lips. He didn’t think he’d be bragging about working with a fellow scientist so soon! This was going to be so cool…

He swiped up his guitar and slung it over one shoulder, standing from the bar stool. “Lead the way, Connall!” Ed bade cheerfully. This was seriously exciting and to be perfectly honest, he couldn’t WAIT to get started. Being home-schooled for most of his life, he didn’t know the first thing about meeting people. To be handed everything on a silver platter like this was a much better fate than he ever imagined the real world offering.

Con had called his “ride” which he hardly used except for in situations like this, when he wanted to seem more professional in a business deal. The driver was also his official hit man, Ivan, the only one under his employ that was quiet and inconspicuous enough for the job. Luckily, he didn’t really put off the threatening air one might expect from a hired assassin either, which would have complicated things in this particular situation.

Anyway, digressing, the ride didn’t last long, and Connall filled the silence with some casual small-talk, dominated mostly by the topic of John Lennon - Con having noticed Ed’s guitar and being quite a fan of the man himself.

Soon, however, the conversation was cut short as they arrived at the lab, a relatively small, inconspicuous building, neighboring a green house, which kept the plants Tan needed for his drugs. It was dull to look at on the outside, but Tanner had stocked the place very well, and made it look like a proper, professional lab on the inside, with all the proper instruments, chemicals, and lighting.

“I’ll bet it looks a bit disappointing on the surface.” Con said matter-of-factly as he got out of the car with Ed and approached the side-entrance. “Don’t worry, it’s a lot better on th’ inside. A lot o’ the work bein done is handled completely by my friend here, so we figured extra space would only be troublesome.” He chuckled as he unlocked and opened the door for Ed, leading immediately down a several bright, immaculate hallway with doors lining each side. “You’ll have plenty o’ room to work, don’t worry.”

The ride to the lab wasn’t as frightening as Ed had anticipated when the vehicle drove up. Being in a strange car with two strange men made him slightly uneasy at first, but Con quickly brought up the subject of John Lennon and it made for a much easier journey. Needless to say, the building wasn’t exactly what he was expecting…

It was far better. In his mind’s eye he had seen a sketchy looking shack with cracked paint, broken shutters, and vines growing all over the house. This was a far nicer, less ghetto building that he could definitely see himself walking into every day.

“Are you kidding?” Ed asked with a laugh when Con apologized about the building’s facade, “This place looks perfect!” Perhaps he was over excited, but he didn’t care. Today was going far better than he ever anticipated and darnit he reserved the right to be happy about it! When they stepped into the building, Ed was greeted with a bright hallway and a handful of doors. It was a bit overwhelming to be honest, but he wasn’t about to be a pansy about it.

Walking with confidence, Ed traveled down the hall, glancing at each door carefully. “So…” he began, “which room will I be working in?”

“Ta be honest, I don’t know.” Con chuckled and rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed. “Ya see, I’m great at the business part of all o’ this, but when it comes to the science, I’m clueless. Which is why most of that side is taken care of by my friend, Tanner.” He explained, opening the third door on the right for them, which led into a large, rather messy lab. The sounds of machines whirring and an alarm buzzing made the place seem like it belonged to a crazy scientist. Which wasn’t.. so far off base.

“Don’t worry, he’s usually a lot more organized… Sometimes he just gets excited…” Connall sighed, finding the alarm and switching it off, along with the machine it was attached to.

“Tanner!” He called, glancing around the place. “Ed Onceler is here. Don’t keep the poor kid waiting.”

There was a scuffling noise in the open closet in the back corner of the room and Tanner stuck his head out, looking a tad disheveled.

“Oh! Be right out!” He chirped happily, disappearing for a moment before reappearing with a huge box, which he lugged over to the nearest table. Once he was free of the box, he bounced over and excitedly grabbed Ed’s hand in both of his and shook.

“Hello there! I’m Dr. Tanner Feidhelm, welcome to my lab!” He beamed excitedly. ”It’s gunna be really fun to have someone to partner with and talk about science with! I try to talk to Con about some of this stuff, but he usually just checks out.” He nudged Con teasingly.

“Ahh-nice to meet you!” Ed stated, taken by surprise with how eagerly Tanner was shaking his hand. “M-my name’s Ed Onceler!” There was an awkward pause when Ed remembered that Con had already said his name. “But… you knew that already…” Nice one, Eddie. Real smooth. Like always.

“So your lab kind of looks AMAZING.” Ed admitted, changing the subject quickly and marveling at all of the stuff he was seeing just in this room. “To be honest, I was expecting some sort of filthy dump that could give me a disease just by looking at it.” He laughed, sounding relieved. This place was very impressive and he was having a difficult time hiding the fact that he thought so.

This Tanner kid seemed to have a lot of energy. “I’ve got a feeling I’m going to enjoy working with you.” Ed beamed, “I haven’t ever really worked with anyone before, so I don’t exactly know how much of a team player I’m gonna be, but hey! There’s a first time for everything.”

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Ed was grateful that Con pushed his drink away, having definitely bitten off more than he could chew. He let out another cough to hide his embarrassment with his actions. Always the ambitious one, wasn’t he? That’s what he was often told. Ah, but phooey on those who frowned upon ambition! It was good to reach for the stars, even if you fall time and time again. One day you’ll get there. You just have to work for it.

That’s what he always told himself anyway.

His mother tended to not be quite so positive about his dreams. She always said that the only thing her Eddy could hope for in life was failure. There was no light in the path that he chose, and he certainly wouldn’t ever be half the success that his two brothers were. But he’d show her. He’d made thneed, hadn’t he? That was step one! And his ticket to step two was sitting next to him at a bar with a big Irish smile on his face.

Con leaned in very close to Ed, making him feel alert as though he needed to give him his undivided attention. Being this close to a stranger would make him uncomfortable under normal circumstances, but there was something friendly and likeable about Con. He was a person to be trusted… well, as far as Ed knew anyway. There would always be that dull suspicion in the back of his mind that maybe putting his trust into this guy wasn’t the best move to make. Ed had a habit of relying on no one but himself, and that wasn’t going to change this soon in the game.

“How do I feel about it?” Ed mused, looking up at the ceiling as if to find an answer, “How do I feel about it…” He feigned pondering the idea, putting a finger to his chin, until a grin betrayed his true feelings and his gleeful blue eyes met Con’s. “Pretty darn excited, that’s how I feel!! Feidhelm, if you think you can handle it, you’ve got yourself a business partner!” He extended a hand, thinking that a proper shaking would seal the deal.

Connall grinned back at Ed, chuckling a bit as he shook his hand and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. Everything had gone perfectly to plan, and now he had the kid right where he wanted him. Of course, he really did like Ed, and everything he said had been true, strictly speaking.. But there was, of course, a selfish motive in nearly everything Con did. He was hardly a charity kind of guy, he didn’t help people just for the sake of helping them. That kind of thing was for the elder Wilde brother that worked under him. Which was fine, just as long as it didn’t get in the way of his work for Con.

Regardless, it just so happened that this time, it worked to the advantage of both parties if they worked together.

“Great! Glad ta have ya on board, mate! Call me Connall. Or Con, if you like. That’s what my friends call me. Speakin o’ which..” He straightened up and laid some money for the drinks on the bar, nodding to the bartender before turning back to Ed, gesturing to the door. “Do ya have time now, Ed? I’d like ta introduce ya to that friend o’ mine that works in th’ labs. After all, he’s the one ye’ll be workin’ with most.” He smiled. “I’m sure th’ two of ya will get along great.”

Ed smiled with gratitude when Connall payed for the drinks. He liked this guy! What was his family always going on about when they said people were cruel? Not everybody was SO bad. Even if his product was AMAZING and taking Ed under his wing was beneficial to Con’s business, the way he was going about it was very casual and kind. At any rate, he totally appreciated it.

“Uhh, yeah!” Ed answered with a sort of slanted smile. “I’m not really doing anything for the rest of the day, it’d be cool to meet my new business partner.” ‘Business partner’… the words practically tingled on Ed’s lips. He didn’t think he’d be bragging about working with a fellow scientist so soon! This was going to be so cool…

He swiped up his guitar and slung it over one shoulder, standing from the bar stool. “Lead the way, Connall!” Ed bade cheerfully. This was seriously exciting and to be perfectly honest, he couldn’t WAIT to get started. Being home-schooled for most of his life, he didn’t know the first thing about meeting people. To be handed everything on a silver platter like this was a much better fate than he ever imagined the real world offering.

Con had called his “ride” which he hardly used except for in situations like this, when he wanted to seem more professional in a business deal. The driver was also his official hit man, Ivan, the only one under his employ that was quiet and inconspicuous enough for the job. Luckily, he didn’t really put off the threatening air one might expect from a hired assassin either, which would have complicated things in this particular situation.

Anyway, digressing, the ride didn’t last long, and Connall filled the silence with some casual small-talk, dominated mostly by the topic of John Lennon - Con having noticed Ed’s guitar and being quite a fan of the man himself.

Soon, however, the conversation was cut short as they arrived at the lab, a relatively small, inconspicuous building, neighboring a green house, which kept the plants Tan needed for his drugs. It was dull to look at on the outside, but Tanner had stocked the place very well, and made it look like a proper, professional lab on the inside, with all the proper instruments, chemicals, and lighting.

“I’ll bet it looks a bit disappointing on the surface.” Con said matter-of-factly as he got out of the car with Ed and approached the side-entrance. “Don’t worry, it’s a lot better on th’ inside. A lot o’ the work bein done is handled completely by my friend here, so we figured extra space would only be troublesome.” He chuckled as he unlocked and opened the door for Ed, leading immediately down a several bright, immaculate hallway with doors lining each side. “You’ll have plenty o’ room to work, don’t worry.”

The ride to the lab wasn’t as frightening as Ed had anticipated when the vehicle drove up. Being in a strange car with two strange men made him slightly uneasy at first, but Con quickly brought up the subject of John Lennon and it made for a much easier journey. Needless to say, the building wasn’t exactly what he was expecting…

It was far better. In his mind’s eye he had seen a sketchy looking shack with cracked paint, broken shutters, and vines growing all over the house. This was a far nicer, less ghetto building that he could definitely see himself walking into every day.

“Are you kidding?” Ed asked with a laugh when Con apologized about the building’s facade, “This place looks perfect!” Perhaps he was over excited, but he didn’t care. Today was going far better than he ever anticipated and darnit he reserved the right to be happy about it! When they stepped into the building, Ed was greeted with a bright hallway and a handful of doors. It was a bit overwhelming to be honest, but he wasn’t about to be a pansy about it.

Walking with confidence, Ed traveled down the hall, glancing at each door carefully. “So…” he began, “which room will I be working in?”

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The irrational sense of optimism that Ed always carried in his demeanor was slowly starting to subside. Starting a business was hard! Well, no, he supposed that wasn’t completely true… getting people to try something new is what was hard. They took such comfort in the ordinary-telling them he had a pill that could cure any ailment wasn’t good enough. What they wanted was proof of some sort! Stats! But how was that possible if no one would volunteer as a guinea pig? One thing was for sure-Ed had taken the drug himself, and the things that he saw while under the influence… sheer brilliance. Not to mention his back pain had gone away! Nothing could compare to this stuff and he knew it-everybodyneeded Thneed.

If only they knew that they needed it.

Ed Onceler sat inside the bar, brooding over a half empty glass of rum with a slight pout on his lips. His chin was resting on his hand and his elbow on the bar. He slouched over his rum and even heaved a brief sigh of dissatisfaction. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all… or maybe he was just being too optimistic with his advertisement. “Cures any ailment!” “Everybody needs Thneed!” If it weren’t so true, he’d bring the claims down a notch… but people just didn’t understand! Thneed was ahead of its time was all. That’s what he kept telling himself.

Absentmindedly, he tapped his guitar with his foot. It was a beautiful ‘58 Rickenbacker 325, identical to the one John Lennon had when he was a Beatle, and Ed brought it with him most places he went. Music was one of the few things he was passionate about. There was never a wrong time to have a guitar! He had set it against the bar before he took his seat at the stool and was now secretly hoping there would be a karaoke session of some sort tonight. If he couldn’t prove his family wrong with the money he earned selling Thneed, maybe he could become rich and famous singing music! (There was the starry-eyed naivety he’d been missing mere moments ago.)

At any rate, he felt he’d been sitting here for a tick too long. He finished off his rum and set the glass down, decidedly ready to return home after a day that brought forth little progress.

Little did Mr. Onceler know, word of his little product had spread - discreetly - through the backstreets and underbelly of London, quickly reaching the attentive ears of Connall Feidhelm. Connall was a business man of sorts - granted, he was a very carefree, very Irish type of “business man”, but powerful all the same - and, while he typically didn’t pay much attention to such low, bound-to-fail-anyway threats to his turf, the claims this kid was making about his supposed wonder drug were not to be ignored. Con had a good feeling about this one. Best try recruiting Mr. Ed Onceler before any of the other bigger businesses got wind of it.

So Connall tracked him down to the bar he was sulking at, and strode up to him, clapping a hand on his shoulder just as he seemed to be turning to go. He slapped the counter and called the bartender, “Hey, Earn, two glasses o’ …” - he glanced at the empty glass sitting in front of Ed - “rum. Ah, make that a scotch fer me, and another rum fer me friend here!”

The bartender gave him a stern look that said Con was obviously a regular here, and that he often got into trouble. Still he was welcome here, and the bartender immediately got them their drinks, leaving with a firm “behave” directed at Connall. Con simply winked in return and finally turned to Ed, who’s shoulder he still had in a stilling grip, and smiled - looking ever so slightly smug. “So, Eddy Onceler, right? I’d like ta talk to ya about yer product, if ya don’t mind. I’ve heard a lot about it.”

Out of nowhere came an Irish man-Ed flinched and glanced at the hand on his shoulder-a touchy Irish man, who he’d never met before. He had the swagger of an individual who thought he owned the place, and Ed was beginning to believe he did. Whoever this guy was, he was probably important… Ed’s eyes traveled away from the man’s hand and up to his face, owning an expression that held a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability.

“Uhh, yeah.” He replied after Con asked his name. So the Thneed was gaining some popularity! Seriously?? This guy wouldn’t just be pulling his leg, right…? Brief doubt rushed into Ed’s mind and he gave Con an expressive look of uncertainty. Don’t get carried away. He thought to himself. This guy called you Eddy, and you don’t even know him…

“And who are you suppose to be?” He asked, noting that the man was buying him a drink (and secretly hoping he could handle straight up rum with a decent poker face. His drink had been iced down and even mixed with coke… but he wasn’t about to make that claim, no sir! Gotta look good in front of this-… well, whoever the hell this was.)

Con smiled and let go of his grip on Onceler with a parting, friendly pat on the shoulder - knowing he now had the kid’s attention - before moving his hand to the space in between them for a handshake. “Name’s Connall Feildhelm. I’m ah… an entrepreneur of sorts.” He chuckled to himself and lowered his voice as he continued. “I happened ta hear about yer wonder drug, and I know ya haven’t been very lucky wit yer sales, despite yer claims, isn’t that right?”

Pausing to take a swig of his drink, he eyed Onceler, sizing him up. He really was just a kid. Tall, wiry, and full of spirit. He reminded Connall a bit of Tanner, his sort of adopted little brother. He smiled to himself as he set his glass back down. Tanner and Ed had a lot in common. They’d get along great. “Well, Ed, if I may,” he started matter-of-factly, smirking, somehow making a parody of polite business etiquette, ”the fact is, people are skeptical o’ new blood on the field. Doesn’t matter what claims ya have fer yer drug, or what proof ya got to back yerself up. You need someone else behind ya ta back ya up, someone who’s got experience, someone people already trust.”

At that point, Con leaned away and spread his arms in a gesture of something like grandeur. ”Ya asked me who I’m supposed ta be. Well, I suppose - long story short - I’m the person that can help make yer product a success.”  His arms came back down and he leaned in again, a confident smile on his face. “What’dya say, lad? Interested?”

Ed hastily took the man’s hand, in what he hoped was a firm and confident grasp, and shook it. A friendly handshake among men was always a good introduction! That’s what he’d learned from movies, at any rate. He hadn’t exactly been a part of the business world for long… films also taught him that people enjoyed presenting themselves with their last name first. ‘Constantine.’ They would say. ‘John Constantine.’ Did people actually do that in real life? It was doubtful… probably best to leave that one to theatrics. Which was unfortunate, because Ed had always wanted to give it a try. ‘The name’s Onceler.’ He would announce. ‘Ed Onceler.’

Forcing himself back to reality, Ed gave Con a sad nod when he inquired as to his success with his ‘wonder drug’. “Yeah…” He replied, feeling that this turn of events was a very unfortunate and unexpected one. “It’s like they don’t believe me. Which is ridiculous, because the majority of them don’t even give it a chance.” Con took a swig of his drink, but Ed wasn’t interested in his right now. He was too focused in on the Irish man in front of him, looking at him with discerning eyes.

Connall went on a short rant of what people look for in a salesmen and Ed began taking mental notes. Unfortanately, everything the man mentioned wasn’t something that Mr. Onceler had or could easily obtain… when you’re new in town, it’s hard to gain the peoples’ trust. It’s not exactly something that happens overnight, and where the heck would he find someone who could convince them that his product was legit? Just as he was about to give up in the frustration of failure, a proposition was made.

“Intere-you’d better believe I’m interested!” Ed expressed, childlike excitement instantly engulfing his facial features. “How do you plan on doing that?” He asked as light chuckle escaped his throat, “Do you even have that kind of power?” From what he could gather, Con totally did, but the glee that was filling his chest made his thoughts a bit naive and his words followed suit. He eagerly took ahold of his drink and brought it to his lips for a brief swig, swallowing more than he could handle. Oh God, it burns! He held his fist to his mouth as his body convulsed and coughed into it for a couple of seconds before regaining control and clearing his throat in unrealistic hope that Connall didn’t notice. That wasn’t very suave… Keep it cool, Oncie, you don’t want to blow it so soon.

Connall laughed, raising his eyebrows in sympathy and understanding. He patted Onceler’s back and took his glass and pushed it away. “Whoa there, kid, don’t get too excited. Ya don’t need ta force yerself. Trust me, I gotta friend just like you.”

He grinned, moving to lean comfortably on the bar, though still facing Onceler. “Which brings me ta yer questions. See, that friend o’ mine works in labs, formulatin’ and makin’ drugs, a bit like the one you’ve made. First we’ve gotta test yer drug there, an’ work out any kinks it might have. After all, ya haven’t had much of a chance ta properly test the thing, have ya?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he was barreling on again. “So you’ll have the opportunity ta really perfect your product, with the resources provided by the Feidhelm lab and the help - should ya need it - of my friend there. Then, once that’s done, we’ll start sellin’ and mass-producin’. If yer drug does what ya say it does, it’ll be a success in no time!”

Con took his scotch again, grinning smugly from ear-to-ear, and gave a nod and a “and yes, I do have that kind o’ power” before downing the rest of his drink in one gulp.

Then, toning down the smugness, he leaned in toward Onceler a bit, making the situation a little more friendly and personal. “Listen kid, I’m offering this deal b’cause I gotta good feelin’ about it - I think we can both really profit from this. But ya can’t do it on yer own. Either no one’ll believe ya, or someone’ll find out it’s all true and steal yer idea from ya, most likely kill ya ta get it. Honestly, I might’ve done the same, were I so desperate. But I’m not, and I like you, kid. You’ve got spirit and enthusiasm. So I wanna help.” He smiled in a friendly fashion and leaned away again, shrugging. “The way I see it, it’s a win-win situation. So? How do ya feel about it?”

Ed was grateful that Con pushed his drink away, having definitely bitten off more than he could chew. He let out another cough to hide his embarrassment with his actions. Always the ambitious one, wasn’t he? That’s what he was often told. Ah, but phooey on those who frowned upon ambition! It was good to reach for the stars, even if you fall time and time again. One day you’ll get there. You just have to work for it.

That’s what he always told himself anyway.

His mother tended to not be quite so positive about his dreams. She always said that the only thing her Eddy could hope for in life was failure. There was no light in the path that he chose, and he certainly wouldn’t ever be half the success that his two brothers were. But he’d show her. He’d made thneed, hadn’t he? That was step one! And his ticket to step two was sitting next to him at a bar with a big Irish smile on his face.

Con leaned in very close to Ed, making him feel alert as though he needed to give him his undivided attention. Being this close to a stranger would make him uncomfortable under normal circumstances, but there was something friendly and likeable about Con. He was a person to be trusted… well, as far as Ed knew anyway. There would always be that dull suspicion in the back of his mind that maybe putting his trust into this guy wasn’t the best move to make. Ed had a habit of relying on no one but himself, and that wasn’t going to change this soon in the game.

“How do I feel about it?” Ed mused, looking up at the ceiling as if to find an answer, “How do I feel about it…” He feigned pondering the idea, putting a finger to his chin, until a grin betrayed his true feelings and his gleeful blue eyes met Con’s. “Pretty darn excited, that’s how I feel!! Feidhelm, if you think you can handle it, you’ve got yourself a business partner!” He extended a hand, thinking that a proper shaking would seal the deal.

Connall grinned back at Ed, chuckling a bit as he shook his hand and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. Everything had gone perfectly to plan, and now he had the kid right where he wanted him. Of course, he really did like Ed, and everything he said had been true, strictly speaking.. But there was, of course, a selfish motive in nearly everything Con did. He was hardly a charity kind of guy, he didn’t help people just for the sake of helping them. That kind of thing was for the elder Wilde brother that worked under him. Which was fine, just as long as it didn’t get in the way of his work for Con.

Regardless, it just so happened that this time, it worked to the advantage of both parties if they worked together.

“Great! Glad ta have ya on board, mate! Call me Connall. Or Con, if you like. That’s what my friends call me. Speakin o’ which..” He straightened up and laid some money for the drinks on the bar, nodding to the bartender before turning back to Ed, gesturing to the door. “Do ya have time now, Ed? I’d like ta introduce ya to that friend o’ mine that works in th’ labs. After all, he’s the one ye’ll be workin’ with most.” He smiled. “I’m sure th’ two of ya will get along great.”

Ed smiled with gratitude when Connall payed for the drinks. He liked this guy! What was his family always going on about when they said people were cruel? Not everybody was SO bad. Even if his product was AMAZING and taking Ed under his wing was beneficial to Con’s business, the way he was going about it was very casual and kind. At any rate, he totally appreciated it.

“Uhh, yeah!” Ed answered with a sort of slanted smile. “I’m not really doing anything for the rest of the day, it’d be cool to meet my new business partner.” ‘Business partner’… the words practically tingled on Ed’s lips. He didn’t think he’d be bragging about working with a fellow scientist so soon! This was going to be so cool…

He swiped up his guitar and slung it over one shoulder, standing from the bar stool. “Lead the way, Connall!” Ed bade cheerfully. This was seriously exciting and to be perfectly honest, he couldn’t WAIT to get started. Being home-schooled for most of his life, he didn’t know the first thing about meeting people. To be handed everything on a silver platter like this was a much better fate than he ever imagined the real world offering.

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The irrational sense of optimism that Ed always carried in his demeanor was slowly starting to subside. Starting a business was hard! Well, no, he supposed that wasn’t completely true… getting people to try something new is what was hard. They took such comfort in the ordinary-telling them he had a pill that could cure any ailment wasn’t good enough. What they wanted was proof of some sort! Stats! But how was that possible if no one would volunteer as a guinea pig? One thing was for sure-Ed had taken the drug himself, and the things that he saw while under the influence… sheer brilliance. Not to mention his back pain had gone away! Nothing could compare to this stuff and he knew it-everybodyneeded Thneed.

If only they knew that they needed it.

Ed Onceler sat inside the bar, brooding over a half empty glass of rum with a slight pout on his lips. His chin was resting on his hand and his elbow on the bar. He slouched over his rum and even heaved a brief sigh of dissatisfaction. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all… or maybe he was just being too optimistic with his advertisement. “Cures any ailment!” “Everybody needs Thneed!” If it weren’t so true, he’d bring the claims down a notch… but people just didn’t understand! Thneed was ahead of its time was all. That’s what he kept telling himself.

Absentmindedly, he tapped his guitar with his foot. It was a beautiful ‘58 Rickenbacker 325, identical to the one John Lennon had when he was a Beatle, and Ed brought it with him most places he went. Music was one of the few things he was passionate about. There was never a wrong time to have a guitar! He had set it against the bar before he took his seat at the stool and was now secretly hoping there would be a karaoke session of some sort tonight. If he couldn’t prove his family wrong with the money he earned selling Thneed, maybe he could become rich and famous singing music! (There was the starry-eyed naivety he’d been missing mere moments ago.)

At any rate, he felt he’d been sitting here for a tick too long. He finished off his rum and set the glass down, decidedly ready to return home after a day that brought forth little progress.

Little did Mr. Onceler know, word of his little product had spread - discreetly - through the backstreets and underbelly of London, quickly reaching the attentive ears of Connall Feidhelm. Connall was a business man of sorts - granted, he was a very carefree, very Irish type of “business man”, but powerful all the same - and, while he typically didn’t pay much attention to such low, bound-to-fail-anyway threats to his turf, the claims this kid was making about his supposed wonder drug were not to be ignored. Con had a good feeling about this one. Best try recruiting Mr. Ed Onceler before any of the other bigger businesses got wind of it.

So Connall tracked him down to the bar he was sulking at, and strode up to him, clapping a hand on his shoulder just as he seemed to be turning to go. He slapped the counter and called the bartender, “Hey, Earn, two glasses o’ …” - he glanced at the empty glass sitting in front of Ed - “rum. Ah, make that a scotch fer me, and another rum fer me friend here!”

The bartender gave him a stern look that said Con was obviously a regular here, and that he often got into trouble. Still he was welcome here, and the bartender immediately got them their drinks, leaving with a firm “behave” directed at Connall. Con simply winked in return and finally turned to Ed, who’s shoulder he still had in a stilling grip, and smiled - looking ever so slightly smug. “So, Eddy Onceler, right? I’d like ta talk to ya about yer product, if ya don’t mind. I’ve heard a lot about it.”

Out of nowhere came an Irish man-Ed flinched and glanced at the hand on his shoulder-a touchy Irish man, who he’d never met before. He had the swagger of an individual who thought he owned the place, and Ed was beginning to believe he did. Whoever this guy was, he was probably important… Ed’s eyes traveled away from the man’s hand and up to his face, owning an expression that held a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability.

“Uhh, yeah.” He replied after Con asked his name. So the Thneed was gaining some popularity! Seriously?? This guy wouldn’t just be pulling his leg, right…? Brief doubt rushed into Ed’s mind and he gave Con an expressive look of uncertainty. Don’t get carried away. He thought to himself. This guy called you Eddy, and you don’t even know him…

“And who are you suppose to be?” He asked, noting that the man was buying him a drink (and secretly hoping he could handle straight up rum with a decent poker face. His drink had been iced down and even mixed with coke… but he wasn’t about to make that claim, no sir! Gotta look good in front of this-… well, whoever the hell this was.)

Con smiled and let go of his grip on Onceler with a parting, friendly pat on the shoulder - knowing he now had the kid’s attention - before moving his hand to the space in between them for a handshake. “Name’s Connall Feildhelm. I’m ah… an entrepreneur of sorts.” He chuckled to himself and lowered his voice as he continued. “I happened ta hear about yer wonder drug, and I know ya haven’t been very lucky wit yer sales, despite yer claims, isn’t that right?”

Pausing to take a swig of his drink, he eyed Onceler, sizing him up. He really was just a kid. Tall, wiry, and full of spirit. He reminded Connall a bit of Tanner, his sort of adopted little brother. He smiled to himself as he set his glass back down. Tanner and Ed had a lot in common. They’d get along great. “Well, Ed, if I may,” he started matter-of-factly, smirking, somehow making a parody of polite business etiquette, ”the fact is, people are skeptical o’ new blood on the field. Doesn’t matter what claims ya have fer yer drug, or what proof ya got to back yerself up. You need someone else behind ya ta back ya up, someone who’s got experience, someone people already trust.”

At that point, Con leaned away and spread his arms in a gesture of something like grandeur. ”Ya asked me who I’m supposed ta be. Well, I suppose - long story short - I’m the person that can help make yer product a success.”  His arms came back down and he leaned in again, a confident smile on his face. “What’dya say, lad? Interested?”

Ed hastily took the man’s hand, in what he hoped was a firm and confident grasp, and shook it. A friendly handshake among men was always a good introduction! That’s what he’d learned from movies, at any rate. He hadn’t exactly been a part of the business world for long… films also taught him that people enjoyed presenting themselves with their last name first. ‘Constantine.’ They would say. ‘John Constantine.’ Did people actually do that in real life? It was doubtful… probably best to leave that one to theatrics. Which was unfortunate, because Ed had always wanted to give it a try. ‘The name’s Onceler.’ He would announce. ‘Ed Onceler.’

Forcing himself back to reality, Ed gave Con a sad nod when he inquired as to his success with his ‘wonder drug’. “Yeah…” He replied, feeling that this turn of events was a very unfortunate and unexpected one. “It’s like they don’t believe me. Which is ridiculous, because the majority of them don’t even give it a chance.” Con took a swig of his drink, but Ed wasn’t interested in his right now. He was too focused in on the Irish man in front of him, looking at him with discerning eyes.

Connall went on a short rant of what people look for in a salesmen and Ed began taking mental notes. Unfortanately, everything the man mentioned wasn’t something that Mr. Onceler had or could easily obtain… when you’re new in town, it’s hard to gain the peoples’ trust. It’s not exactly something that happens overnight, and where the heck would he find someone who could convince them that his product was legit? Just as he was about to give up in the frustration of failure, a proposition was made.

“Intere-you’d better believe I’m interested!” Ed expressed, childlike excitement instantly engulfing his facial features. “How do you plan on doing that?” He asked as light chuckle escaped his throat, “Do you even have that kind of power?” From what he could gather, Con totally did, but the glee that was filling his chest made his thoughts a bit naive and his words followed suit. He eagerly took ahold of his drink and brought it to his lips for a brief swig, swallowing more than he could handle. Oh God, it burns! He held his fist to his mouth as his body convulsed and coughed into it for a couple of seconds before regaining control and clearing his throat in unrealistic hope that Connall didn’t notice. That wasn’t very suave… Keep it cool, Oncie, you don’t want to blow it so soon.

Connall laughed, raising his eyebrows in sympathy and understanding. He patted Onceler’s back and took his glass and pushed it away. “Whoa there, kid, don’t get too excited. Ya don’t need ta force yerself. Trust me, I gotta friend just like you.”

He grinned, moving to lean comfortably on the bar, though still facing Onceler. “Which brings me ta yer questions. See, that friend o’ mine works in labs, formulatin’ and makin’ drugs, a bit like the one you’ve made. First we’ve gotta test yer drug there, an’ work out any kinks it might have. After all, ya haven’t had much of a chance ta properly test the thing, have ya?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he was barreling on again. “So you’ll have the opportunity ta really perfect your product, with the resources provided by the Feidhelm lab and the help - should ya need it - of my friend there. Then, once that’s done, we’ll start sellin’ and mass-producin’. If yer drug does what ya say it does, it’ll be a success in no time!”

Con took his scotch again, grinning smugly from ear-to-ear, and gave a nod and a “and yes, I do have that kind o’ power” before downing the rest of his drink in one gulp.

Then, toning down the smugness, he leaned in toward Onceler a bit, making the situation a little more friendly and personal. “Listen kid, I’m offering this deal b’cause I gotta good feelin’ about it - I think we can both really profit from this. But ya can’t do it on yer own. Either no one’ll believe ya, or someone’ll find out it’s all true and steal yer idea from ya, most likely kill ya ta get it. Honestly, I might’ve done the same, were I so desperate. But I’m not, and I like you, kid. You’ve got spirit and enthusiasm. So I wanna help.” He smiled in a friendly fashion and leaned away again, shrugging. “The way I see it, it’s a win-win situation. So? How do ya feel about it?”

Ed was grateful that Con pushed his drink away, having definitely bitten off more than he could chew. He let out another cough to hide his embarrassment with his actions. Always the ambitious one, wasn’t he? That’s what he was often told. Ah, but phooey on those who frowned upon ambition! It was good to reach for the stars, even if you fall time and time again. One day you’ll get there. You just have to work for it.

That’s what he always told himself anyway.

His mother tended to not be quite so positive about his dreams. She always said that the only thing her Eddy could hope for in life was failure. There was no light in the path that he chose, and he certainly wouldn’t ever be half the success that his two brothers were. But he’d show her. He’d made thneed, hadn’t he? That was step one! And his ticket to step two was sitting next to him at a bar with a big Irish smile on his face.

Con leaned in very close to Ed, making him feel alert as though he needed to give him his undivided attention. Being this close to a stranger would make him uncomfortable under normal circumstances, but there was something friendly and likeable about Con. He was a person to be trusted… well, as far as Ed knew anyway. There would always be that dull suspicion in the back of his mind that maybe putting his trust into this guy wasn’t the best move to make. Ed had a habit of relying on no one but himself, and that wasn’t going to change this soon in the game.

“How do I feel about it?” Ed mused, looking up at the ceiling as if to find an answer, “How do I feel about it…” He feigned pondering the idea, putting a finger to his chin, until a grin betrayed his true feelings and his gleeful blue eyes met Con’s. “Pretty darn excited, that’s how I feel!! Feidhelm, of you think you can handle it, you’ve got yourself a business partner!” He extended a hand, thinking that a proper shaking would seal the deal.

yes-this-is-the-conman:

everythingyouthneed:

yes-this-is-the-conman:

everythingyouthneed:

The irrational sense of optimism that Ed always carried in his demeanor was slowly starting to subside. Starting a business was hard! Well, no, he supposed that wasn’t completely true… getting people to try something new is what was hard. They took such comfort in the ordinary-telling them he had a pill that could cure any ailment wasn’t good enough. What they wanted was proof of some sort! Stats! But how was that possible if no one would volunteer as a guinea pig? One thing was for sure-Ed had taken the drug himself, and the things that he saw while under the influence… sheer brilliance. Not to mention his back pain had gone away! Nothing could compare to this stuff and he knew it-everybodyneeded Thneed.

If only they knew that they needed it.

Ed Onceler sat inside the bar, brooding over a half empty glass of rum with a slight pout on his lips. His chin was resting on his hand and his elbow on the bar. He slouched over his rum and even heaved a brief sigh of dissatisfaction. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all… or maybe he was just being too optimistic with his advertisement. “Cures any ailment!” “Everybody needs Thneed!” If it weren’t so true, he’d bring the claims down a notch… but people just didn’t understand! Thneed was ahead of its time was all. That’s what he kept telling himself.

Absentmindedly, he tapped his guitar with his foot. It was a beautiful ‘58 Rickenbacker 325, identical to the one John Lennon had when he was a Beatle, and Ed brought it with him most places he went. Music was one of the few things he was passionate about. There was never a wrong time to have a guitar! He had set it against the bar before he took his seat at the stool and was now secretly hoping there would be a karaoke session of some sort tonight. If he couldn’t prove his family wrong with the money he earned selling Thneed, maybe he could become rich and famous singing music! (There was the starry-eyed naivety he’d been missing mere moments ago.)

At any rate, he felt he’d been sitting here for a tick too long. He finished off his rum and set the glass down, decidedly ready to return home after a day that brought forth little progress.

Little did Mr. Onceler know, word of his little product had spread - discreetly - through the backstreets and underbelly of London, quickly reaching the attentive ears of Connall Feidhelm. Connall was a business man of sorts - granted, he was a very carefree, very Irish type of “business man”, but powerful all the same - and, while he typically didn’t pay much attention to such low, bound-to-fail-anyway threats to his turf, the claims this kid was making about his supposed wonder drug were not to be ignored. Con had a good feeling about this one. Best try recruiting Mr. Ed Onceler before any of the other bigger businesses got wind of it.

So Connall tracked him down to the bar he was sulking at, and strode up to him, clapping a hand on his shoulder just as he seemed to be turning to go. He slapped the counter and called the bartender, “Hey, Earn, two glasses o’ …” - he glanced at the empty glass sitting in front of Ed - “rum. Ah, make that a scotch fer me, and another rum fer me friend here!”

The bartender gave him a stern look that said Con was obviously a regular here, and that he often got into trouble. Still he was welcome here, and the bartender immediately got them their drinks, leaving with a firm “behave” directed at Connall. Con simply winked in return and finally turned to Ed, who’s shoulder he still had in a stilling grip, and smiled - looking ever so slightly smug. “So, Eddy Onceler, right? I’d like ta talk to ya about yer product, if ya don’t mind. I’ve heard a lot about it.”

Out of nowhere came an Irish man-Ed flinched and glanced at the hand on his shoulder-a touchy Irish man, who he’d never met before. He had the swagger of an individual who thought he owned the place, and Ed was beginning to believe he did. Whoever this guy was, he was probably important… Ed’s eyes traveled away from the man’s hand and up to his face, owning an expression that held a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability.

“Uhh, yeah.” He replied after Con asked his name. So the Thneed was gaining some popularity! Seriously?? This guy wouldn’t just be pulling his leg, right…? Brief doubt rushed into Ed’s mind and he gave Con an expressive look of uncertainty. Don’t get carried away. He thought to himself. This guy called you Eddy, and you don’t even know him…

“And who are you suppose to be?” He asked, noting that the man was buying him a drink (and secretly hoping he could handle straight up rum with a decent poker face. His drink had been iced down and even mixed with coke… but he wasn’t about to make that claim, no sir! Gotta look good in front of this-… well, whoever the hell this was.)

Con smiled and let go of his grip on Onceler with a parting, friendly pat on the shoulder - knowing he now had the kid’s attention - before moving his hand to the space in between them for a handshake. “Name’s Connall Feildhelm. I’m ah… an entrepreneur of sorts.” He chuckled to himself and lowered his voice as he continued. “I happened ta hear about yer wonder drug, and I know ya haven’t been very lucky wit yer sales, despite yer claims, isn’t that right?”

Pausing to take a swig of his drink, he eyed Onceler, sizing him up. He really was just a kid. Tall, wiry, and full of spirit. He reminded Connall a bit of Tanner, his sort of adopted little brother. He smiled to himself as he set his glass back down. Tanner and Ed had a lot in common. They’d get along great. “Well, Ed, if I may,” he started matter-of-factly, smirking, somehow making a parody of polite business etiquette, ”the fact is, people are skeptical o’ new blood on the field. Doesn’t matter what claims ya have fer yer drug, or what proof ya got to back yerself up. You need someone else behind ya ta back ya up, someone who’s got experience, someone people already trust.”

At that point, Con leaned away and spread his arms in a gesture of something like grandeur. ”Ya asked me who I’m supposed ta be. Well, I suppose - long story short - I’m the person that can help make yer product a success.”  His arms came back down and he leaned in again, a confident smile on his face. “What’dya say, lad? Interested?”

Ed hastily took the man’s hand, in what he hoped was a firm and confident grasp, and shook it. A friendly handshake among men was always a good introduction! That’s what he’d learned from movies, at any rate. He hadn’t exactly been a part of the business world for long… films also taught him that people enjoyed presenting themselves with their last name first. ‘Constantine.’ They would say. ‘John Constantine.’ Did people actually do that in real life? It was doubtful… probably best to leave that one to theatrics. Which was unfortunate, because Ed had always wanted to give it a try. ‘The name’s Onceler.’ He would announce. ‘Ed Onceler.’

Forcing himself back to reality, Ed gave Con a sad nod when he inquired as to his success with his ‘wonder drug’. “Yeah…” He replied, feeling that this turn of events was a very unfortunate and unexpected one. “It’s like they don’t believe me. Which is ridiculous, because the majority of them don’t even give it a chance.” Con took a swig of his drink, but Ed wasn’t interested in his right now. He was too focused in on the Irish man in front of him, looking at him with discerning eyes.

Connall went on a short rant of what people look for in a salesmen and Ed began taking mental notes. Unfortanately, everything the man mentioned wasn’t something that Mr. Onceler had or could easily obtain… when you’re new in town, it’s hard to gain the peoples’ trust. It’s not exactly something that happens overnight, and where the heck would he find someone who could convince them that his product was legit? Just as he was about to give up in the frustration of failure, a proposition was made.

“Intere-you’d better believe I’m interested!” Ed expressed, childlike excitement instantly engulfing his facial features. “How do you plan on doing that?” He asked as light chuckle escaped his throat, “Do you even have that kind of power?” From what he could gather, Con totally did, but the glee that was filling his chest made his thoughts a bit naive and his words followed suit. He eagerly took ahold of his drink and brought it to his lips for a brief swig, swallowing more than he could handle. Oh God, it burns! He held his fist to his mouth as his body convulsed and coughed into it for a couple of seconds before regaining control and clearing his throat in unrealistic hope that Connall didn’t notice. That wasn’t very suave… Keep it cool, Oncie, you don’t want to blow it so soon.

yes-this-is-the-conman:

everythingyouthneed:

The irrational sense of optimism that Ed always carried in his demeanor was slowly starting to subside. Starting a business was hard! Well, no, he supposed that wasn’t completely true… getting people to try something new is what was hard. They took such comfort in the ordinary-telling them he had a pill that could cure any ailment wasn’t good enough. What they wanted was proof of some sort! Stats! But how was that possible if no one would volunteer as a guinea pig? One thing was for sure-Ed had taken the drug himself, and the things that he saw while under the influence… sheer brilliance. Not to mention his back pain had gone away! Nothing could compare to this stuff and he knew it-everybodyneeded Thneed.

If only they knew that they needed it.

Ed Onceler sat inside the bar, brooding over a half empty glass of rum with a slight pout on his lips. His chin was resting on his hand and his elbow on the bar. He slouched over his rum and even heaved a brief sigh of dissatisfaction. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all… or maybe he was just being too optimistic with his advertisement. “Cures any ailment!” “Everybody needs Thneed!” If it weren’t so true, he’d bring the claims down a notch… but people just didn’t understand! Thneed was ahead of its time was all. That’s what he kept telling himself.

Absentmindedly, he tapped his guitar with his foot. It was a beautiful ‘58 Rickenbacker 325, identical to the one John Lennon had when he was a Beatle, and Ed brought it with him most places he went. Music was one of the few things he was passionate about. There was never a wrong time to have a guitar! He had set it against the bar before he took his seat at the stool and was now secretly hoping there would be a karaoke session of some sort tonight. If he couldn’t prove his family wrong with the money he earned selling Thneed, maybe he could become rich and famous singing music! (There was the starry-eyed naivety he’d been missing mere moments ago.)

At any rate, he felt he’d been sitting here for a tick too long. He finished off his rum and set the glass down, decidedly ready to return home after a day that brought forth little progress.

Little did Mr. Onceler know, word of his little product had spread - discreetly - through the backstreets and underbelly of London, quickly reaching the attentive ears of Connall Feidhelm. Connall was a business man of sorts - granted, he was a very carefree, very Irish type of “business man”, but powerful all the same - and, while he typically didn’t pay much attention to such low, bound-to-fail-anyway threats to his turf, the claims this kid was making about his supposed wonder drug were not to be ignored. Con had a good feeling about this one. Best try recruiting Mr. Ed Onceler before any of the other bigger businesses got wind of it.

So Connall tracked him down to the bar he was sulking at, and strode up to him, clapping a hand on his shoulder just as he seemed to be turning to go. He slapped the counter and called the bartender, “Hey, Earn, two glasses o’ …” - he glanced at the empty glass sitting in front of Ed - “rum. Ah, make that a scotch fer me, and another rum fer me friend here!”

The bartender gave him a stern look that said Con was obviously a regular here, and that he often got into trouble. Still he was welcome here, and the bartender immediately got them their drinks, leaving with a firm “behave” directed at Connall. Con simply winked in return and finally turned to Ed, who’s shoulder he still had in a stilling grip, and smiled - looking ever so slightly smug. “So, Eddy Onceler, right? I’d like ta talk to ya about yer product, if ya don’t mind. I’ve heard a lot about it.”

Out of nowhere came an Irish man-Ed flinched and glanced at the hand on his shoulder-a touchy Irish man, who he’d never met before. He had the swagger of an individual who thought he owned the place, and Ed was beginning to believe he did. Whoever this guy was, he was probably important… Ed’s eyes traveled away from the man’s hand and up to his face, owning an expression that held a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability.

“Uhh, yeah.” He replied after Con asked his name. So the Thneed was gaining some popularity! Seriously?? This guy wouldn’t just be pulling his leg, right…? Brief doubt rushed into Ed’s mind and he gave Con an expressive look of uncertainty. Don’t get carried away. He thought to himself. This guy called you Eddy, and you don’t even know him…

“And who are you suppose to be?” He asked, noting that the man was buying him a drink (and secretly hoping he could handle straight up rum with a decent poker face. His drink had been iced down and even mixed with coke… but he wasn’t about to make that claim, no sir! Gotta look good in front of this-… well, whoever the hell this was.)

The irrational sense of optimism that Ed always carried in his demeanor was slowly starting to subside. Starting a business was hard! Well, no, he supposed that wasn’t completely true… getting people to try something new is what was hard. They took such comfort in the ordinary-telling them he had a pill that could cure any ailment wasn’t good enough. What they wanted was proof of some sort! Stats! But how was that possible if no one would volunteer as a guinea pig? One thing was for sure-Ed had taken the drug himself, and the things that he saw while under the influence… sheer brilliance. Not to mention his back pain had gone away! Nothing could compare to this stuff and he knew it-everybodyneeded Thneed.

If only they knew that they needed it.

Ed Onceler sat inside the bar, brooding over a half empty glass of rum with a slight pout on his lips. His chin was resting on his hand and his elbow on the bar. He slouched over his rum and even heaved a brief sigh of dissatisfaction. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all… or maybe he was just being too optimistic with his advertisement. “Cures any ailment!” “Everybody needs Thneed!” If it weren’t so true, he’d bring the claims down a notch… but people just didn’t understand! Thneed was ahead of its time was all. That’s what he kept telling himself.

Absentmindedly, he tapped his guitar with his foot. It was a beautiful ‘58 Rickenbacker 325, identical to the one John Lennon had when he was a Beatle, and Ed brought it with him most places he went. Music was one of the few things he was passionate about. There was never a wrong time to have a guitar! He had set it against the bar before he took his seat at the stool and was now secretly hoping there would be a karaoke session of some sort tonight. If he couldn’t prove his family wrong with the money he earned selling Thneed, maybe he could become rich and famous singing music! (There was the starry-eyed naivety he’d been missing mere moments ago.)

At any rate, he felt he’d been sitting here for a tick too long. He finished off his rum and set the glass down, decidedly ready to return home after a day that brought forth little progress.