Cutting Room Floor - Ch 9
Ooh boy... strap in, folks - it's gonna be a long one!
Here's the cut content from Chapter 9, "Robbers' Roost"
(a peek inside Gummigoo's headspace)
The game could invent an aunt and even a hometown for him - but not the loved one he actually wanted?
Part of him wanted to snap back and ask what Mum looked like… but that could've broken Liz just like it broke him. This NPC was supposedly a childhood friend of hers...
He knew then and there, she should never know what he did; her dad’s unreality could break her just like Mum’s broke him.
(Gummi's first taste of pretzel smoke)
All the same, something felt… off. A creeping numbness coursed through his chest, slowly dampening his emotions. Thinking came less naturally, his mind’s eye growing clouded, leaving instinct a convenient safety net
(extra detail in Kinger's original explanation)
"We all missed Pomni, but… what happened hit her the hardest. She felt responsible and didn't know why Caine wouldn't let us go back. She couldn't sleep for a while..."
(scrapped idea for animal NPCs)
This wasn't just playful small talk. On rare occasions, some animals (usually cats or dogs) were capable of slightly higher intellect than expected. Not enough to speak or make real decisions; just a step or two above their usual abilities. Most of Miss Liz's cats were normal enough, some willing to engage more than others and beyond that kept to themselves… but this one was a bit different. She seemed to understand basic language and questions...
"The livestock are rescues, including the horses. Bullet and the birds she intentionally brought home, and the cats either just showed up or were born here."
(scrapped segment, revised for "show, don't tell" purposes)
Of course, as promised, they had to stop and see the other animals. First up was the sheep (and goat) pen, a spacious area with plenty of room for the three of them to roam and relax. Not that any of them did much frolicking; the fluffy pink sheep were much slower in their old age, languidly hobbling over from their covered shed. As for the orange gummy goat… he busied himself headbutting the gingerbread tree.
(deleted scene, cut for multiple reasons - No Pets Allowed)
“Miss Liz’s got lots of bubblegum chooks,” Honey went on, “and they're all hers too. She keeps ‘em for eggs mostly, and lets us have some since we can't have animals.”
Pomni balked, flustered by her abrupt comment.
Curious, Ragatha inquired further. “Aww, why not?”
Honey slowly bowed her head. “Mum says animals are loud… and bad people might find us if they see or hear animals.” Her little fingers wrung the saddle horn.
“Oh, Honey…” Her mother reached over and touched her leg. “I'm sorry… I wish we could have pets, I really do… Good thing Miss Liz lets us come over and see hers, right?”
The gummy girl limply swung her leg back and forth. “I guess…”
The redhead faintly frowned as empathy plucked at her heartstrings. Overall NPCs were content with their lives, whatever those perimeters were, with occasional nuisances at worst. Seeing one with palpable dismay was highly unusual.
Thinking on her feet, the redhead and scanned her surroundings for something to lighten the mood - spotting Truffles seated on the fence post licking her paw. “How about a cat?” she offered. “They're usually pretty quiet. A housecat could work, right?”
The brunette bit her lip. “It's not that easy,” she clarified, scratching Truffles behind her ear. “Most cats here live outside - it's just how they are. No one really minds them since they ward off pests… but they always return to whoever feeds them. If…” she paused, minding her daughter's presence, “... a bad person… sees a cat, or dog, or any tame animal outside our home, they’ll know the house is occupied -”
The players turned their stares to Honey, still looking down as she wriggled back and forth. “We gotta be careful,” she muttered. “Bandits could hurt us. Mozzos could take us away. Wolves could eat us. So we don't go outside without a grown-up… and no pets.”
“They lay chocolate eggs, and some of ‘em hatch into marshmallow chicks - then their fluff gets… um…” The five year old grabbed her cheek as she looked down in thought.
(deleted scene, cut for tone - Freak Show)
The brunette stared at her reflection in the mirror, unsure of herself.
Miss Liz had given her a few boxes of clothes and brought her to the changing room. The shop was still closed, so she was safe from prying eyes while the owner went to check on Gummigoo.
That left her with time to go through her clothing options. She’d set most of the dresses aside - too bulky or elaborate for her comfort - but kept some of the simpler ones that might look cute. Thankfully there were plenty of trousers, some good shirts, and even a few pretty skirts and blouses.
With a good selection laid out to try on, now came the moment of truth…
Could she finally take the jester outfit off?
She had good reason to be wary. Back at the Circus, she’d tried taking her clothes off to no success. Just like her hat, the gloves and shoes were stuck to her hands and feet; and the main outfit seemingly had no buttons, zippers, velcro, or ties to be found. Not that Caine gave her any extra clothing options - but at the time, she'd just wanted out of that costume, even if it meant sleeping naked!
Of course, Caine would've never allowed it. That would be indecent…
… if there was anything worth covering up.
The relief of removable clothes was short-lived. Her gloves and shoes were already cast aside; the presence of normal, if simplified, hands and feet were a blessing.
That simplicity should’ve been a clue.
So, there she stood - arms crossed over her pale, flat, featureless chest. She'd checked inside her shorts earlier… also nothing. Aside from her face, every womanly aspect was gone.
'What happened to my body?'
Deep down, she suspected this would've been the case. Caine probably made these avatars; he might not know what those parts even were, but if he did he wouldn't have made them anyway to keep things “family friendly.”
All the same, it was such a drastic change now that she could see it uncovered. Her skin was… soft enough, but felt more like clay than tissue. While the surface was strangely smooth, like a plastic doll, its elastic properties meant that whatever lay beneath had no true structure.
Her main body was oddly straight; no curves or subtle features of any kind. The lack of muscle tone, rib grooves, nipples or even a belly button was just as unsettling as her stretchy noodle limbs. The existence of any organs was vague at best… though, presumably, the black goo she kept throwing up had to come from somewhere.
Pomni felt sick to her stomach - assuming she still had one. 'Don't throw up, don't throw up, don't throw up!'
It hadn't truly dawned on her until that moment. Soul aside… she wasn't really human anymore.
The player blinked, snapping back to her senses. “Huh?”
A pair of purple gummy feet approached the changing room door. “I made cut-lunch for the Lads, thought you should get one as well… You alright in there?”
Turning away from the mirror, Pomni went back to the boxes and reached for a featherlight pale blue robe. She'd wasted enough time gawking at her topless doll body. “More or less.”
Liz paused. “Mind if I pop in?”
Despite her sadness, Pomni gave it some thought while slipping the robe on. Usually such involvement made her feel too vulnerable… but, all things considered, anything worth keeping private was gone. It's not like she had anything the NPC wouldn't understand. Close quarters wouldn't be an issue either; the changing room was fairly open, about the size of a doctor's office. “Sure, whatever.”
With her consent, Liz carefully entered with a plated sandwich in one hand, closing the door with the other. “Hope you're easy - had some leftover chook in the icebox and…” Turning around, she stopped upon seeing her dismayed guest. “What’s wrong?”
The jester shrugged. “Just tired, I guess.”
The shopkeeper raised a dubious eyebrow. “Not a good liar, are you?”
Pomni pursed her lip. She wasn't sure yet how honest she could be with Liz without putting her through an existential crisis. “I don't wanna talk about it right now.”
With a muted sigh, Liz handed the sandwich over on a dainty white plate. “Fair enough,” she conceded. “How ‘bout we talk about something else? I love a good chinwag, but you let me know if something doesn't sit well with you. Sound good?”
(deleted scene's cut content)
No bones, no muscles, just… whatever she was made of now all the way through, at least in her arms and legs.
The player frowned and turned away from the mirror. She'd wasted enough time gawking at her topless doll body.
Reaching for a plaid green button-down shirt, Pomni breathed deeply and softly. “Yeah,” she fibbed, “I’m fine.”
Liz let slip a pensive hum. “Mind if I pop in?”
Despite her sadness, Pomni gave it some thought while undoing the shirt buttons. [same description from deleted scene]
With her consent, Liz carefully entered and closed the door behind her, then briefly studied the young woman...
Liz sighed with dismay. “Aw no - nothing fits, does it?”
Liz countered with a doubtful murmur. “I’ve known horses happier ‘round branding rods,” she retorted. “I won't arm-twist, but you let me know if you're up for a chinwag.”
(deleted scene, cut for story cohesion - Do All Your Clothes Do That?)
The shopkeeper raised a dubious eyebrow. “How about you put that top on and sit down?” She gestured to a chair in the corner. “Some tucker’ll do you some good.”
Not one to protest, Pomni held the shirt up and slipped her arms through the sleeves. As the fabric settled on her shoulders… a soft “pop” noise clicked, akin to a finger snap; at once, the cloth quivered ever so slightly, its color instantly flashed from green to red.
Pomni blinked, staring down at the open shirt folds in her hands. 'What just happened?'
Looking up, she found Liz just as perplexed, her eyes briefly changed into empty circles. “Do all your clothes do that?”
'Wait…' Pomni grabbed a black bandana from a box of accessories, then hurried back to the mirror. She folded it sideways and wrapped it over her neck, tying the ends together. This sparked the same “pop” and flash as before, swapping colors from black to blue. She slapped a palm over her face. 'Aw no…'
The red and blue color scheme was tied to her programming - in every aspect.
It seemed, no matter what she wore, the default color would switch to red or blue. 'Seriously??'
A gentle hand rested on her shoulder...
(alternate scene, revised for length and better character interaction / development)
“No worries,” Liz assured, still sorting through the apparel. “Any friend of Gummi or the Lads is a friend of mine. You make yourself at home.”
Reminded of her close companion, Pomni smiled a bit. “Thanks,” she squeaked shyly. “What's he up to?”
Miss Liz flashed a sidelong look, brows raised with a faint smirk. “Well now - aren't you a stickybeak?”
The brunette tilted her head ever so slightly. “I, uh… sorry, I don't know what that means.”
“Ah, right - not from around here,” Liz recalled, pulling out a simple dress from the box. “Stickybeaks are nosy folks, too curious for their own good. Not in your case, though; just bein’ cheeky, that's all.” Satisfied with a passing once-over, she held the dress up. “You tried this one yet, luv?”
The dress itself was fine, but a bit plain and old-fashioned - pale yellow with mid-length sleeves, a waist-bound apron, and long enough to cover her legs. The sprinkle-embroidered flowers on the apron’s lower left corner were a nice touch, but otherwise it just wasn't her style. “Thanks, but I’d better stick with more practical clothes,” she politely declined. “I wouldn't want to ruin something so nice.”
The raspberry gummy gator furrowed her brow. “Ruin it how?” she questioned. “You’re hiding out. I’m not putting you to work, not with the mozzos after you. Might as well get comfortable as long as you're laying low.”
Though still reluctant to wear what looked like grandma’s hand-me-downs, Pomni found the shop owner’s candor a little intimidating, her gaze drifting elsewhere to avoid eye contact. “I, uh… I don't know,” she murmured. “I’d really just rather wear a shirt and pants, if that's okay.”
Liz shrugged and pulled a clothes hanger out from the box. “No worries,” she dismissed, “we’ll come back to it later. We’ll go through the tops and trousers for now, but at some point you’ll need a few frocks.”
Watching as her hostess hung the dress up on a candy cane hook, Pomni squirmed a bit. “Is it that important?”
“It's the standard for non-gummy sheilas,” Liz responded, returning to the box. “Don't know much about fashion, but I’ve seen enough to know what passes muster. That one’s safe, won't draw any attention… I’ll see what I can find that's sightly though.”
Pomni said nothing and looked down at her plate, taking a gingerly bite of her sandwich. It felt uncomfortable, being fussed over; she appreciated Liz's kindness and generosity, but she wasn't used to this kind of attention.
(Hopeless Romantic Miss Liz - still love this bit, just forgot / couldn't find a place to add it without sounding awkward)
"It’s in your eyes - the way you look at him, how they widen when you talk about him…"
(Pomni wrestles with her feelings)
“What?” The matron’s tone went soft and sensitive. “Why not, dear?”
'Go on, tell her - say it out loud…' “I, uh… I’m pretty sure he just sees me as a friend.” She grimaced, her heart breaking a bit.
Liz responded with a pensive murmur. “You sure about that?”
Intrigued yet skeptical, Pomni glanced up from behind the fan. “Are you sure?” she pressed. “I mean it. Don't give me false hope."
"... It's only been a week! What if I'm just awkward, hopeless, and crushing on the first person to give a [%$!#] about me since I got here?” She barely noticed the censored swear in her frustration, hanging her head with a dejected groan. “Sorry… I’m such a mess right now…”
Liz withdrew her hand and calmly sidled around to face her...
(Miss Liz hypes up Gummigoo - cut for "show, don't tell" purposes)
This prompted a pensive murmur from the matron. “I wouldn't know about that,” she quipped. “The fella you're gushin’ over sounds exactly like the lad I helped raise. Rough around the edges, not to be trifled with, but a real softie deep down. He’s a top bloke - ya picked a good one, I’ll say that much.”
Her sage approval flew in the face of Pomni's crippling neurosis, worsening her disgrace as she bowed her head...
As Liz shuffled to the other end of the divan for a seat, Pomni sighed and hung her head. “I can't help it,” she muttered, idly toying with the pocket fan in her lap. “He does so much for me. He keeps me safe, helps me feel better… even little things, like finding that poncho…” She smiled weakly. “That’s just the kind of guy he is though, huh?”
A curious sidelong glance revealed Liz's intent yet compassionate gaze. “He’s a good egg, you got that right,” she replied, “but most Outlanders don't see half of what you do. It's every man for himself out here; you show anything close to weakness, you will be mugged.”
In fairness, that was the impression the young woman got from just about every NPC she’d met since leaving the Candy Kingdom. Even allies like Liz and Nicholas were guarded and defensive, despite their discreet generosity.
“Gummi gives decent people the respect they deserve, but that's about it,” Liz continued. “No favors, no gifts, no shoulder to cry on… Even kin has limits; he’s good to us, but gruff and stubborn. Mum might be an exception, but she's a tough nut to crack in her own right.”
“... He does so much for me. He keeps me safe, helps me feel better… even little things, like finding that poncho…”
Liz raised a curious eyebrow. “You don't find that unusual?”
The jester blinked. “Should I?”
“I know I would,” Liz remarked. “Men do things for women they care about. You don't see Gummi doin’ favors for the Lads, do you?”
Though a fair point, Pomni shrugged it off...
(deleted scene, cut for length and relevance - Old Flame)
“Good thing Nigel’s not here - he’d never let poor Gummi hear the end of it…”
Sensing an opportunity to change the subject, Pomni looked up and turned to Liz with discreet interest. “Who's that?”
Miss Liz tempered her grin. “My late husband.”
Her guest blinked. 'That's right - if she had kids, she would've had a partner… but if he's not here… he never existed…' “I’m so sorry.”
“No worries,” Liz brushed off. “Nigel passed a few years ago. Miss him every day, but the pain’s long gone… well, most of it.” She shrugged. “Still, I remember the good times, and that's usually enough.”
A weak smile graced Pomni's cheek. Even if Nigel wasn't real, for Miss Liz's welfare it was worth respecting her programmed reality. “How long were you together?”
The raspberry gummy gator leaned back with a wistful sigh. “Oh, ‘bout… 32 years, give or take,” she recalled. “We were so young, just teens back then. Dad needed more help on the station, divvying up the land for our new jumbucks and not enough jackaroos to keep up…”
Already lost, Pomni tapped her shoulder with a sheepish simper. “Sorry - what are jumbucks and jackaroos?"
“Sheep and male station hands,” Liz answered plainly. “Females are jillaroos, but Dad wasn't keen to hire ladies.” She rolled her eyes. “Loved my old man, but he was a stubborn old bogan -”
The shop owner suddenly turned to Pomni and raised an index finger. “You’ll hear that word a LOT out here,” she cautioned, “but it means different things depending on persuasion. Overall bogans are loud, crude, simple folk, usually men… but can be a cheeky compliment, usually among mates. Don't use it until you’ve been here long enough to know the difference.”
The brunette nodded. “Good to know,” she noted. “So, uh… you met Nigel as a station hand?”
“Oh yeah, but I’d seen him around town before,” Liz went on, her grin slowly coming back. “He was a tall drink of fizz, lemme tell you. Thing is, even back then I had the figure of a gumdrop - took after my old man like that. I’d swooned over a couple young jackaroos by then, but… well, couldn't compete with the local talent -” She raised a stern finger again, “meaning other sheilas, but can mean a certain crowd of sheilas. Don't use it ‘til you know the difference.”
Pomni raised an eyebrow, but slowly nodded. While almost certain Liz was referring to prostitutes, she found that hard to believe in a world without sex and a language filter blocking all forms of real world vulgarity. Still… that one gummy bear did seem creepily drawn to her… and Chad and Max were very interested in the flirty gummy gator from the town bar. If Caine had such strict guidelines for players, why was there leeway among the NPCs?
Moving on with her story, Liz slightly loosened the shawl around her neck. “Anyhow - after a while, Nigel made a habit of popping by the shop when I was alone. Never bought more than a cold one; no work issues or any reason to see my dad either, and quick to bolt when he got back.” She smirked. “Fit as a bull, but thick as a post..."
“So,” Liz beamed, “how does it look?”
To her credit, it was a lovely necklace. Simple yet elegant, snug yet strangely comfortable for a choker; if not for the dangling jewel, she wouldn't have felt it at all. It was beautiful… if a bit excessive. “It's… nice.”
Miss Liz blinked. “You don't like it?”
“No, no - i-it’s not that,” Pomni assured, holding her collar open for a better look. “It’s cute… just… maybe too much, you know?”
The shopkeeper shrugged. “Nothin’ wrong with lookin’ good,” she pointed out. “I've got others, if you want somethin’ less posh. Just thought the teardrop jewel might be your fancy..."
(scrapped segment, cut for length)
“You don't smile much, do you?”
Her abrupt comment snapped Pomni out of her fleeting trance. “Huh - oh, uh…” she hesitated, unsure of Liz's motives. “Sorry… could you repeat that?”
Miss Liz shrugged. “Just an observation,” she noted. “No worries, some sheilas just aren't smilers..."
Miss Liz kept still, eyes squinted with intrigue. “You don't smile much,” she repeated. “I wouldn't expect that from a soul like yours.”
'A soul like mine?' Pomni drew a deep, silent breath; she could handle Gummi's existential dread, but didn't want to risk another NPC stumbling into self-awareness.
“I’m used to seeing sour faces, but most of ‘em are hot-tempered bandits and tired old-timers. I figured you were worn out from running in the shadows - but here you are, safe as a mouse in cheesecake, and just as troubled as ever.”
(scrapped / revised fade-in from flashback, related to Pomni's color-changing clothes)
“You’ve been magic this whole time??”
Mum shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It's not really magic…”
Honey balked and flailed her arms. “What else would you call it?!”
Despite her own intrigue, Ragatha followed her friend's lead...
Mum reached for the saddle and held on as they walked. “Settle down,” she cautioned in a soft yet stern tone. “Don't scare the horse.”
Honey flailed her arms, eyes wide with shock. “You never told me you were magic!” she cried out, lurching in her seat.
(cut world-building segment for relevance)
The young gummy gator countered, “What about fairy tales? There's lotsa good fairies in fairy tales - like the godmother in Gingerella!”
Her mother suppressed a groan, her mouth reduced to a thin straight line. 'Serves me right for trying to be a good mom…'
Most predators were dangerous enough, but easily avoided by townspeople or passing travelers. Stay out of their domain, or get out as fast as possible, and they’ll leave you alone.
That's it for Chapter 9, thankfully!
Chapter 10 is currently in progress and so far going smoothly... fingers crossed 🤞
Thanks again for your patience and support! 🫂
