For the Record
āWhat in the name of Xelqua is this?!ā
Grian turned. āWhat?ā
Tango continued to rant, seemingly not hearing Grian. āSeriously, I turn around for one minuteā one minute!ā and Iāve got, like, fifty gazillion villagers all up in my bits! Iām trying to work here!ā
āTango,ā Grian repeated himself, this time louder. He stepped off of his floating Victorian greenhouse/barge.
āHuh? Oh, hey Grian! Didnāt see you there, whatās up?ā Tango straightened up from his position hunched over the random bits and bobs of redstone nonsense he had dumped in the middle of the shopping district.
āYou swore by the name of Xelqua,ā Grian said.
Tango shrugged. āYeah, I guess I did. Xisumaās teaching Impulse some Galactic Standard so he can cheat at enchanting or something. Apparently Xelquaās, like, some sort of god in Xisumaās culture? It was kind of unclear, I wasnāt paying attention when Impulse told me.ā
āHuh,ā Grian said vacantly. āHow about that.ā
He paused. āBy the way, what the heck is that machine and why are you working on it in the Cowmercial District?ā
Tango grinned. āItās all part of my latest dastardly plan!ā He then proceeded to cackle for a solid fifteen seconds before running out of air.
āā¦Right,ā Grian said, āGood luck with that.ā
āThanks!ā Tango said perkily, returning to his work. Grian returned to his barge, already scheming.
āXelqua, huh?ā he murmured to himself. This ought to be interesting.
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