@bobbyrpdrake

“So...did they discover more colours since I went blind?”. Scott asked, squinting at the difference between a mountain meadow and a sahara shade. The trip had been productive thus far, Scott combing through the store with a surgical precision, and Bobby mostly well, being Bobby. It worked, mostly. They were making their way down the list titled crap 4 room and making good time. That was until they reached the wall of bedsheets. 

They all had exotic names like, laser lemon, timber wolf, and a personal favourite,  Utah Bee-Utah-Ful. Scott raised his eyebrows at Bobby nodding towards the ruffled clam, “No, thank you.” he said and placed it back on the shelf.  Going back to his conversational tone, “So red, or red. I think I’ll go with the red.”. Probably time to delegate.

Just then he caught the infra-red flash of a camera burning like a red dot in the corner of his lenses. “Looks like they found us again,” Scott said, his tone low with a hint of irritation. There were two teenagers, probably locals, “by the paint cans”, Scott prompted. He didn't know if it was the shades, or Bobby messing with the water features but they knew mutants were here, and they wanted to film them apparently. Probably waiting for some display of power. It was harmless Scott decided, so he’d ignored them.