So my superiors decided to assign me the most insignificant tasks, sometimes quite blatantly dumping me as far away as possible.
The Luchador yawned. The example proved contagious, and SeaAsia struggled with her jaw for a long moment before emerging victorious. Her interested expression, however, remained intact.
— And so I was sent to Colombia, to a farm where, allegedly, a talking ferret had broken in, claiming to be the great-nephew of the long-vanished legendary Jeff.
SeaAsia quickly googled it and understood exactly what that was about.
— So there was no one there. No phantoms. And I was simply tending the vegetable garden, when one day a small comet fell straight onto my head.
Phew!
It all happened very fast. I managed to tilt my head slightly, and the bolide slammed into the solid ground, shimmering with bright lights. I dropped the garden hose and, following strict protocol, picked up this possibly extraterrestrial object with my bare hands. And imagine this — it instantly transported me straight into the house where my grandchildren lived.
It turned out the object has the ability to take you to the place where you most want to be.
— A fascinating ability, — Denzel agreed. — And what did you do next?
— I quit my job, told the newspapers about my discovery, and received a pile of money, along with a permanent fear that government agents might kill me in my sleep for not handing the object over to secret archives. But that's not as important as another kind of terror I felt: "What if this sphere is single-use?"
And what relief it was when I realized that it wasn't!
The dramatic pause captivated the listeners, and even the cat drawn on SeaAsia's skin held its breath.
— Once, I got stuck in an elevator with a woman and her dog, which was going through puberty. And that little dog lunged at my leg with firm intentions of a One Night Stand. So I prayed — and was transported straight onto this bench.
"Such a stupid dog gag. I'm genuinely ashamed I even wrote it in. I apologize for this bit." — SeaAsia, for the first time, agreed with the words that echoed inside her head. Then she asked:
— Could you show it to us?
The man reached into his breast pocket and pulled out something egg-shaped and smooth, with chipped inscriptions on its surface, written in an unknown language.
— I called it the Sphere, and the name grew on me. I give it to you, SeaAsia. Use it in good health. My own adventure ends here — among fresh willows and the sweet chirping of birds. But you, kids, still need to go to the beauty salon.
— What salon? — the girl asked in surprise, taking the precious gift into her palms and thanking the giver.
— The one in that fair tent over there. Or didn't you hear Viktor bleating, asking everyone to stop by, since none of his businesses brought in any money today?
— Oh yes, that's very much in his style, — Denzel confirmed, then turned to his companion. — Don't you think it's a rather curious idea? Why not fool around a bit and change our image?
Slowly rising, she offered him her hand, and he accepted it with gratitude. Then they bowed to Grandpa, who lay down on the bench and drifted off to sleep.
And they headed toward that very tent.
The crowd had already dispersed, and near a sign driven into the ground reading "Barber Show," there stood only one short woman, with a long braid reaching the middle of her back and an expressionless face. When the two approached her, she said:
— I'm constantly having to read. All these announcements here, and those signs over there…
— Where is "there"? — the girl asked, but the stranger remained silent and stepped aside, clearing the entrance to the tent.
They pulled back the flap, and inside…
— There it is! Baroque, Rococo, sitcom trash, and pompous Art Deco — which I'll turn into props and haul out of here after obtaining written permission from the owner. — The Luchador exclaimed in delight, currently playing a game of golf on the lawn with string-controlled marionettes.
— Where are you now? — SeaAsia couldn't hold back, bringing her hand closer to her eyes.