00:16 <banana> There are always a few good lads dangling around the Bollocks... depending on who you count good, of course. 00:17 <banana> Some people Rolf knows are in there this evening - a couple even brought their wives to make a night of it - so all things considered, it's considerate of him to be out here in this stinking alley contemplating the little brown bottle that supposedly stinks worse. 00:18 <banana> Rolf Hughes made more than a million pounds tonight. Most of it hasn't come in yet, but when it does.. maybe there are places out there kinder on the nostrils. 00:18 <hrolf> It’s bad back here. Real bad. Rolf’s been in some orrible places but this is pretty far up the list. Strewn unidentified meats and garbage mingle together in a mixture that defies description. The owner of the pub has connections with council members so health and safety hasn’t been a thing in these parts since the late 90s. 00:19 <hrolf> He can't even hold his breath because the scratching at the back of his brain is getting worse. Before he gets too used to the smell, if such a thing is possible, Rolf opens the bottle and takes a large whiff, like a glue sniffer in the council estate of his youth. 00:22 <banana> At first, the Rolf can't smell as much of the alley as usual. His head feels funny.. that sense of perceptive lag again, movements trailing his thoughts like they did in VR before the demons activated Pro Mode. Presumably the goblin's waking up. But it doesn't go beyond vague wobbliness until he pops the cork. 00:22 <banana> *At first, Rolf 00:23 <banana> There's a little white label - (CH3)₂CS [not for over-the-counter sale]. As expected, it smells bad - fragrant like excessive perfume combined with vomit, and growing over time. 00:24 <banana> The smell stabilises at a level which Rolf can bear, but apparently the thing in his brain cannot. He feels a scrabbling and pinching on the inside of his nose, tiny fists pummeling at the roof of his mouth. 00:24 <hrolf> Rolf would retch, but he can't seem to summon the motor muscles required to do so, even by reflex. 00:25 <hrolf> Slowly, moving like he's been suspended in treacle, he opens his mouth and puts some fingers inside to extract whatever's there. 00:25 <banana> The light from the doorway into the pub is dimming - someone else's heading out this way. "Hughes went this way, did 'e?" Baz's voice, which may be fortunate. 00:25 <banana> The weird thing about the cockroach-man Rolf pulls from his throat is that it isn't sticky at all. 00:26 <banana> Feels oddly clean. The tiny little human arms and legs are smooth like a baby's, and the insectoid carapace is almost hygenic. 00:26 <hrolf> Rolf tries to yell out a "go away" but it comes out muffled and garbled. He shakes his head to clear it and get a good look at the thing wriggling in his hand. 00:27 <banana> What he's holding now is surely the stuff of someone's nightmare. It has the head of an insect, if not the limbs, so it doesn't make much anatomic sense when it bellows at him in a voice as loud as a child's: "What is this manky air?" 00:27 <hrolf> "bwuh-" Rolf's reflexes come back in a rush, and he sinks to the floor, retching. 00:28 <hrolf> *ground 00:29 <banana> The hobgoblin is about three inches long, which is still way too big for something that came out of his sinuses. 00:30 <hrolf> After what feels like a lifetime of gagging, Rolf holds it further up to the light and glares at it. "This is Manchester. You can fahck off now to wherever you came from." 00:30 <banana> There are noises from back in the pub too - "Jaysus, who shat up the place?" "Someone call the fire department!" From the sound of it, the smell actually gets worse the further you go from the bottle. Out here, it's almost fine, cancelling out the native scent of the alley nicely. 00:31 <banana> Three-inch goblin: "Can I? Oh, I can fuck off, can I? It might suprise ye to know I amn't the only one who can.. huh." 00:32 <banana> It sounds a bit like Glaswegian supporters he's met, but somewhat quieter. Not nearly as quiet as it should be for its size. 00:32 <banana> "Way's closed. This Man Chester... do ye not have doors in't?" 00:33 <hrolf> Rolf shakes the creature up and down a bit and waggles it around. He reaches inside his coat and pulls out a glass jar with a lid that's had some holes poked in it. "Plenty of doors, maybe not to your 'ome though. I can take you back to that witch that put you in me." 00:34 <banana> Goblin: "Ohh, devils, do not drop me in that thing. I'll come quietly. Let ye know where the bodies are buried." 00:34 <banana> "Quick, man, what's yer name?" 00:36 <hrolf> Rolf pauses, mid unscrewing the lid top. His face freezes: "Bodies? What bodies?" 00:37 <banana> Goblin: "...How many d' ye want?" 00:38 <hrolf> He looks down at it, brows furrowed: "Make sense you wanker. And why do you want my name?" 00:38 <banana> The little chunk of orange stuff in the bottle has crumbled away entirely now. It feels like it's got into Rolf's skin, somehow rendering him immune to it for now.. his nostrils itch, but his senses are back to normal 00:39 <hrolf> Rolf: "Are you talking about the fahcking weeping trauma support group? The tatterdam?" 00:39 <banana> Goblin: "Ah, ah, don't put me in the bottle, I'm sorry.. I don't need yer name! ...unless you want to make a deal! I know things, ah..." It waves its arms and antennae at the same time, trying to come up with something. 00:39 <banana> "Oh, that name. Yes. I do know.. something." 00:40 <hrolf> Rolf lifts the bottle threateningly: "Go on an make it quick." 00:45 <banana> Goblin: "I'm quick, I'm quick! Ah, right.. this is sweet info, you could use this to make the seelie do what you like, I'm sure.. just don't let them know it was Roach Macdougall who passed it on." 00:45 <hrolf> Rolf: "I won't." 00:45 <banana> It loudly clears its tiny throat. "Quintinshill, two-twenty six. Barber and Walker of Bentley, forty-five, by bribery." 00:45 <banana> "Burslem.. fifty-seven. The charges stolen from anarchists." 00:46 <banana> "Gresford. Two hundred sixty-six, the sealing, and never proven." 00:46 <hrolf> Rolf: "266 killings?" 00:47 <banana> Macdougall: "That's right, that's right. Blood to water the Tree. We all know about it, cause the secret had to go somewhere." 00:48 <hrolf> Rolf whistles. "Our good friends 'ave been upto some nasty fings, eh? Anyfing else you got?" 00:49 <banana> It flutters the halves of its carapace in panic. Looks like this isn't one of the winged ones. "Ah, ah, ah.. I ken.. I have a deal with biscuits. Promises made under the fridge. I can control the rate a' which a biscuit goes stale." 00:50 <banana> There are sirens in the distance. The buildings around are oddly quiet, so it stands out... someone really did call the fire department. 00:51 <hrolf> Rolf rolls his eyes and looks at his watch. "Alright lad, into the bottle you go. 'opefully should be able to dump you on that witch and be back in time for the match." He opens the lid and dumps the creature in, sealing it quickly. 00:52 <banana> Roach Macdougall: "Devils, man, no- guaaklcklcklcklc." It jumps and batters uselessly against the glass. Not the most impressive of fey beasties, if you don't let it near your orifices. 00:54 <hrolf> Rolf stuffs the jar under his coat and gets up. He briefly considers taking a leak in the alley, but the smell is starting to get a bit much. He shuffles off into the night, heading towards the Rover.