fandomtownies | The Magic Box, Saturday

"Do you mind?" Jenkins made a third attempt to get the front door to the Magic Box open, shoving it against the rump of a truly massive rabbit that had taken up residence on the sidewalk. "Look, I'm certain it's a perfectly nice spot to have a nap, but you're blocking my customers and I have truly had quite enough of being blocked today." His back door back to the Library, for instance, was cut off. It simply opened to the shop's broom closet, as it had before he'd taken over. And he couldn't reach Colonel Baird or Flynn or even — god help him — Ezekiel Jones on any of his various phones. "So —" He leaned his shoulder into the door and heaved. "— excuse —" The rabbit shifted its weight to its other hind leg, giving him no more than a handspan of extra space. "— ME!"

The rabbit hopped forward, clearing the door, and Jenkins went stumbling out into the street. He straightened, spent a precious moment adjusting his tie, and turned to face the rabbit with a faint, sarcastic bow. "Thank you."

The rabbit barreled into him, knocking him flat. When he sat back up, cracking his vertebrae back into place, it sat a few feet away, twitching its nose at him.

"Right," he said. "That's how it's going to be, is it?"

The rabbit charged him again. He sidestepped it like a matador, whipping his short sword from his jacket and neatly slicing through its carotid artery and nearly managing to get out of the spray fast enough not to ruin one of his favorite suits.

When it stopped twitching, he wiped his sword clean on its enormous fluffy tail and tucked it away again.

"I wonder if anyone on this island has a taste for a truly tremendous amount of rabbit stew. . . ."

[ooc: Open!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I wouldn't, no, but as I just said, I haven't field dressed anything in ages." Quite literal ages. "You have noticed you're carrying a sword, haven't you?"

"So are you," Peter pointed out. "For this, though?" He shook his head. "It's sharp for a sword, but it's not exactly made for carving."

"I'm not the one proposing to butcher the thing," Jenkins pointed out right back. "In cases such as these, one must simply make do with the tools one has available. I have seen a man cut the gullet open on a wolf this size with a six inch hacksaw, and pull out fair maiden entirely intact."

Only about three years ago, even.

"...Now you've got me wondering if anyone's inside this thing," Peter said, eyeing the rabbit dubiously. "Do we know if they eat meat or just like attacking?"

"At the moment all I know is that they like to take naps in front of doors and get mean if you make them move."

"They're pretty much mean if they notice you," Peter said. "There was some lady being attacked by one when I went out this morning. I got the sword out to help her, then found another one when it tried to jump me from behind."

"And did you see if she had any expertise at large animal butchery?"

Sometimes Peter wondered about you, Jenkins.

"No, I just made sure she got home safely. You want me to ask at the diner?"

What? No one wanted giant rabbit carcasses rotting in the streets all weekend. It was going to be more than 80 degrees tomorrow.

"I'm not particularly concerned if you ask anywhere at all." He sighed down at the rabbit. "You know, some magical monsters have the class to simply . . ." He puffed out his cheeks and gave an extra pop to his p: "poof once they've been dispatched."

"Huge rabbits are probably still better than any of the demons or things that poof," Peter pointed out. "Although..." He stared, unfocused, for a minute. "I think I know a disintegration spell."

He raised his hands to start, giving Jenkins time to stop him if he didn't want the rabbit corpse turned to dust.

Jenkins was of the opinion that using magic to accomplish something that was just more work the non-magical way was foolishness, but he merely stepped aside and raised an eyebrow.

"I will be put out if you should accidentally disintegrate any part of myself or my store while you're at it."

There was "more work" and then there was "ridiculous amounts of complex work".

Peter tried not to sigh at the lack of faith; he did have better control of his magic than that. Instead, he smirked. "Just stand still and don't move the building."

The proper gestures and incantations, and the rabbit began disintegrating from the inside out, falling into itself until only dust was left.

"Lovely," Jenkins said, not sounding impressed. "Now can you summon a broom?"

"Picky, picky." Another gesture, and the wind picked up the dust and swept it out to sea.

"Better?"

"Peachy."

"Sorry, I don't do food." Peter nodded toward the store. "Think you'd like any help, or have you got it taken care of?"

The Magic Box, Saturday

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