Dull wits get no bread.

  Nate Paddy, Alex’s street rat mentor, used to tell new batches of wobbly-kneed cold orphans that. Likely still would be from his hovel crafted of stolen astroturf and vinyl behind a derelict warehouse. He’d told Alex all those years ago while sharing a spot of crust. But even Nate had gone and gotten himself eaten by a mailbox monster while snoozing off a hangover.

  Still, the young man, no older than Alex was now, who taught the ways of the city wild to so many wide-eyed youngsters, had the right of it. The dull-witted got no bread, and worse yet, were likely dead and soon. Especially in the post System world.

  Alex took that lesson as he ran, thinking fast and running faster, weaving through the city on foot towards his Monday shift. Sharp wits and refusing to stay down was how he’d survived. Survived being the key word, as in his mind, that’s what he’d done. No grand plans, and certainly no massive goals in sight. Get the credits needed, make it until next month, and with a spot of spite at the world and with appropriate enemies around, maybe sprinkle in a revenge plot or two.

  Over a vendor hawking ion-grounding bangles to bundled up elderly he leapt, shooting off and weaving with his [Running]. Crowded as always with scammers, dreamers, walkers, bustlers, Adventurers, and just plain ordinary people going about their day, he quite liked losing himself in the press of the city. He’d taken up jogging as the way to clear his head. Except he now moved so fast there was hardly time to think at all.

  So, he took the long way to Nino’s. It wasn’t like he’d be late.

  Snu told him eventually about the Taking. He’d comforted her, of course, and brushed away her tears while holding her tight in his arms as she rocked back and forth for the better part of an hour. At first, he’d been worried he’d messed it all up with his question. Worried he’d stumbled and sliced deep, far too deep to recover his misstep. Only she wasn’t mad at him. Silly him, she was in a perpetual state of brutal hunger for simply existing and the nourishment needed drove most Bosses mad eventually. It wasn’t about him at all.

  He tried not to rage against the unfeeling, unmerciful, un-nut-kick-and-stompable System while pounding pavement. They’d gotten kabob and watched old crappy comedy movies late into the night, snuggling up while Alex tried to cheer her up. Terry’s plastic dot eyes, the perv, wouldn’t stop glancing over at them in bed, which was new, and thank goodness his movement stopped there, since he had his cute girlfriend to comfort. She’d slept like a rock, at least, sprawled sideways and on top of him while hogging all the blankets. Even when Emilio barged in alone late at night from the front door somehow to loaf at the bottom of the bed she didn’t wake.

  Chosen One…bit on the nose really.

  With a Title like that, and promise of a special, uniquely crafted Skill based on his talents, it was impossible to not feel excited over the anger. He still squared up. Steeled himself. Felt his jimmies rustled. Most importantly, he tried to figure out how in the world he was supposed to complete all the tasks assigned from the very System he currently wanted to elbow drop.

  Dull wits get no bread…

  It didn’t take a genius to piece out the players. But how was he supposed to become family to Nino and Nino? Marrying Francesca was too simple, surely. And help Brody in his want? What did he want besides time with Giat, some peace and quiet, and the sweet nectar of existence under a goth girlfriend? Emilio had chosen him as his Companion? News to him, but unsurprising given how he seemed to understand Alex even mentally. The cat was always too smart for his own good. Yet upon asking what seat of power he wanted to secure in hushed whispers in the middle of the night, Emilio had simply grunted and rolled over, sandwiching Alex tighter between a drooling Snu and a vibrating loaf. The Taking and what Snu needed? Touchy subject, and while Alex fancied himself not a bumbling baffoon when it came to women, he couldn’t shake nor guess what her existence screamed for.

  Think right but always lean left. Nate Paddy would giggle while saying that one.

  Alex shook the thoughts of the stoner street rat while nearing Nino’s. Running and weaving easily, he tried to weasel out the solution before his shift started. Racking his mind, he hardly had time to react when—

  “Sir Alex!” A bright voice called out as something small, blue, and furry stepped directly into his path.

  He skidded and hopped to a stop just outside the shop to look down.

  “Dorge, hello, hello hello,” Squatting down in the middle of the sidewalks, the bustlers were forced to weave themselves around him and his Monster friend. “How’s it hanging buddy? Been a while, but I guess there’s not much to sweep in the winter…”

  “Mighty fine, sir Alex, Dorge do mighty fine,” the [Garbage Garmen] approximated a smile and let go of the self-balancing broom and pan while wiping faux sweat from his dry forehead. “Sir Alex right, like always. Garbage Garmen get salt the school stair duty in winter. Human kid much nicer than human adult, Dorge must say, and city is right messy come spring. Every year, more mess! Not that Dorge mind. More mess is more Relic bits!”

  The Monster slapped his knee and belly laughed, catching the glare of several civilians walking by.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “Sounds busy for sure then, good to know you’re not just down and out when the snow comes,” Alex smiled back, “And listen, our deals still on OK? Plus, whatever Relics I think might be good for you and your—”

  “Oh no!” Dorge all but yelled, waving a big mitt of a blue hand in Alex’s face. “No, no, no,” the Monster shook his head and crossed his arms. “Dorge not accept. Alex is friend now. Invite Dorge and Korge in for Christmas, help Dorge hard time. Korge biggest Garbage Garmen ever! Korge make hovel in dump much better. Have knack for build. Everyone cheer Dorge! No. Alex no pay Dorge. Friend help friend.”

  Dorge leaned in, looking around conspiratorially and waving him in closer. “And Sir Alex? Dorge not know many thing. But Garbage Garmen know thing. Marnia, Dorge wife, know thing. And help friend is one best way for System to like you. Or so smart Garbage Garmen say.”

  “Damn, that’s great for Korge,” Alex scratched his chin, pretending to mull over the Monster’s words. “I know you’re right…we’re friends. So if you won’t take Credits, then I’ll just have to give my friend some more Relics…as gifts. One friend to another.”

  “Sir Alex too kind to Dorge!” The Monster did a little jimmy, the broom and pan somehow joining, before he seemed to remember something. “Oh! I do have thing to tell you.”

  Alex leaned in closer, looking conspiratorially around himself.

  “Dorge see lot of clipboard,” he said, “At first, he notice booger. Then he see them. Dorge know those Tax human pick nose. Leave booger everywhere. And then Dorge see them. Walk around. Make cup out of hand and put on butt. Then smell cup. Why do the Tax human smell hand cup after touching butt? It is magic?”

  Alex snickered. “Some say that’s how they cultivate, Dorge. Something about loving their own bran. They get stronger by remembering what they had for breakfast. It’s something their type like to do.”

  “Yes. Bran,” Dorge nodded seriously. “I will ask Maria for her bran. They powerful? But use power of ‘bran’ to live?”

  “It’s all they know,” Alex shook his head sadly, standing up. “Thanks for the tips, Dorge. I’ll keep my eyes peeled, and I’ll be seeing you around. Say hey to Korge and Marnia for me.”

  “Bye, Sir Alex!” Dorge waved goodbye, scooping up his trusty broom as Alex made his way to Nino’s. When the broom felt like it was giving him a little bit of attitude, he brought it close up to his face to let it know he meant business.

  “Listen here, broom. We work out the stiffness together. All winter you sleep. Now you sweep. All winter I throw salt. No easy Relics. You keep do good job, and Dorge promise he keep giving you more Relic. You want to be strong, like Sir Alex? Like how Dorge grow stronger?”

  It had come as quite a surprise last year, when Dorge had been inspecting a little coin Relic he’d found while sweeping behind a scary and grumpy dumpster Monster, that his broom has sucked in the Relic and wiggled in his hand. Startled and afraid, Dorge had used [Search Particulate], which thankfully worked on all manner of things, as technically everything was made of particulate when you got right down to it, that he’d received a surprising ping of information.

  [Broom of Growth]

  Dorge didn’t know what that meant, but Borge, his brother, and Marnia sure had. Turns out his simple broom, cared for like a fine crafter’s tool for many years by a Garbage Garmen, would grow more powerful with feedings. To what heights? Dorge didn’t know. He just liked to sweep.

  “Good. We are friend. Treat each other right.” He nodded sharply, grinning at the wiggle that felt like a friendly joke, and went right back to work. Marnia wanted another child and soon.

  Alex’s grin at the shop’s door chime faltered upon entering.

  “God damn it,” Nino yelled from the back. “These moufaletta. They send letter. They call. And call. And call. I no pay the increase! They think they can send Tax Guilder here and ant..antimediate me?”

  “It’s-ah intimidate, Nino!” Nina yelled back. “They just want us to go to the Tax Guild in Eaton Center and update our chit to get new rate. What is the problem? We pay more, but they leave us alone. If we no do they send worse than note and call. We can deal with them, but then it no stop. Then more trouble!”

  “No, I no pay more!” Nino barked back as Alex walked toward the kitchen. “Just you watch, I give them this note, and maybe we bribe just a little bit—”

  “You cannot bribe-ah the Tax Guild—”

  “I no say bribe the Guild—” The three Italians realized Alex had walked in.

  “Oh, Alex,” Francesca shook her head, already in her red polo and new sporting, branded hat Nina had pulled out of nowhere one day. “All morning, they like this. It is terrible.”

  “I’m pretty sure you can’t bribe the Tax Guild, Nino,” Alex said. “Like, yes, the pizza is amazing, and grants Buffs…and…Skill increases…wait actually maybe you can?”

  “See!” Nino shoved out both hands towards Alex. “He understand! He see the value that we can offer. Nina, it is the principale of the—”

  “You are not-ah making Alex run pizza to the Tax Guild. Everybody know the Council control the Tax Guild, and they the real power in the city. Why people that powerful sit at Tax Guild and hand out chits?”

  “Ah,” Nino got an evil look in his eyes as he looked at Alex. “We no send our best delivery boy to the Tax Guild.”

  Alex gulped. He didn’t like the sound of this. “Uh…where are you sending me?”

  “Alex, my boy. Nina fix you something first,” he rubbed his hands together, looking at his wife. “Something make him stronger and faster overall. I hear it is…not so safe.”

  “Where you send him, Nino?” Francesca’s eyebrows rose.

  “I send him delivery now—”

  Nina went to interrupt, “You sleep on the—”

  “Ah finito!” Nino beamed, dancing in place like a little boy.

  “Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” Alex said. “There!? But he’s supposed to be downright insane! They all have fortresses!”

  “Bah, you can deliver anywhere,” Nino waved his hand. “Is your trick. Like a fox, this one. Always get where he need to go. Or want to go.”

  Nina huffed and went to fix Alex something to eat. Francesca looked a bit sad, but also worried at the look on his face.

  “Where?” She asked.

  Alex read his delivery notification aloud for her.

  [A New Job has been assigned by your Employer - Nino’s Pizza]

  [Deliver the Pizza & the Note to the Customer - Time Remaining – 119:34]

  [50 Credit Reward for Completion, along any and all tips from Customers]

  [Customer: Keanu Bereaves – Councillor of Toronto]

  “He is from Toronto? And a note too? Nino, you can write?” Francesca asked in bewilderment.

  “EVERYBODY GET-AH OFF MY BACK!” Nino chicken-scratched next to his angry wife.

  “Look, I’m just happy Nino didn’t pick Carey or Blob Ford, OK? Katerine O’Hara? She eats people. John Candy’s corpse? No thanks. Least Keanu was normal…once.”

  Dull wits get no bread…