Eventually, the supper came to a close, and Murch was left to ponder how to continue the night as Spyke started gathering dishes. “Hum… we could always play a board game. Shoal, d’you like Monopoly?”
Spyke stopped, mid-lean, as Murch suggested the idea. “Um… you both may, but I’m afraid I’ll have to duck out…”
“Aw, what’s wrong, Unca? You afraid of,” Murch snapped double finger-guns at the older urchin, “the Monopoly master?”
“No!” Spyke quipped back, a bit too quickly. “I just have some orders that I could stand to fill and work on, is all.”
The confidence drained from Murch’s face. “Oh, right… orders…” It took him a few moments, but he let out a deep sigh, exhaling something to the effect of him also having orders that he needed to work on.
“But, lucky us, this could be a good thing!” Spyke smiled over at Shoal. “Would you like to work up here with us? We could talk while we work.”
“Or we could watch TV,” Murch added, kind of quietly.
“I c-can help…” Shoal smiled. “I wraap and b-box my own pieces…” Glancing at the clock, she gasped, “Oh… I have t-to feed the snails. I’ll b-be back…” Pausing, she asked, “Would you l-like to see them, Murch?”
In Shoal’s apartment, there were still boxes needing unpacked, but overall, her few belongings were already set up. On a table lay crochet patterns, a rack of yarns, patches, and an assortment of crochet needles. Boxes, tissue paper, and tape were all neatly organized. Several tanks lined the living room wall, each with a Super Sea Snail. Shoal carefully measured food, and fed each snail.
Picking the biggest snail up, Shoal introduced them to Murch, “This is D-Debbie. My breeder sssnail. Those four are her babies from t-two years ago.” Gesturing to another tank, this one with a cluster of eggs, “Those will ha-hatch soon. Debbie t-tried to eat them…”
Murch was impressed by the sheer size of Debbie, and the healthy array of other snails in their tanks. “Woah... don’t show Spyke, but jeez...”
“Don’t show me what?” Spyke was at the front door, and not actually in Shoal’s apartment simply because he had not technically been invited in.
“Snails you’re not allowed to eat!”
“Phah!” Spyke called through the door. “Not all snails are for eating, Murch!”
He went on to, out of the blue, go on about a one-sided rant regarding the ecological ethics of Urchin-kind consuming snails. Rather than listening, Murch rolled his eye and mocked Spyke with a jabbering hand-puppet motion.
