inside and outside of the bottle
was wet and Karl was grinning broadly.
"What did you do?” I sighed.
"The little bastard tried to drown me!” the Sprite shrieked. "Nothing.” Karl set the jar on the kitchen table. “Just wanted to see if little mouthy Sprites could swim." I closed my eyes for a moment trying my hardest not to laugh or yell at the Goblin. Dragging my hand over my face, I regained my composure. I turned to Toby. “Would you do the honors?" Toby smirked. “With pleasure."
Shaking the can, Toby walked into the kitchen and snatched the Sprite's jar off the table. Unscrewing the top of the Sprite's prison, he held his hand over the top. Tilting the aerosol can beneath his meaty paw, he depressed the nozzle. The quick blast covered the Sprite and filled the jar with a glittering, golden substance. The Sprite fell to the bottom of the jar gasping and choking. "Too much?” Toby asked the Maker.
The Maker shrugged. “Probably."
"Okay, T,” I said as I watched the Sprite recover. “Now take it outside and let it go." "You're letting it go?” Karl asked in horror. “After what I did to it?” He took a deep breath and leaned against the kitchen table leg with a long face. “I'm boned." Toby eyed me warily. “Seriously?"
I nodded.
"Okay,” Toby exhaled. Walking past me, he opened the front door and stopped. Looking at the Sprite one final time, he pulled his hand away from the top. Flittering out, the Sprite turned and gave us the finger. “Just wait until I find a new swarm,” he warned us, “you three are dead! Dead!” Turning, it glowed brightly and flitted off. Toby set the jar down and handed me the PDA. “I hope you know what you're doing.” He looked at the glittering gold spot on his hand the spray had created. I forced a smile. “Me too.” Activating the PDA, I watched a red dot moving around the screen. It looked as if the Sprite was drunk. “Seems to be working,” I nodded to the Maker. “I'll bring it back when we're finished."
The Maker dismissed the idea with his hand. “No worries. I can make more.” He turned his attention to Toby. “You might want to wash your hands, big guy." Toby's eyes widened. “Why?"
The Maker smiled. “No reason.” He rubbed his beard stubble again. “Might want to hurry though."
"What did you do?” I sighed.
"The little bastard tried to drown me!” the Sprite shrieked. "Nothing.” Karl set the jar on the kitchen table. “Just wanted to see if little mouthy Sprites could swim." I closed my eyes for a moment trying my hardest not to laugh or yell at the Goblin. Dragging my hand over my face, I regained my composure. I turned to Toby. “Would you do the honors?" Toby smirked. “With pleasure."
Shaking the can, Toby walked into the kitchen and snatched the Sprite's jar off the table. Unscrewing the top of the Sprite's prison, he held his hand over the top. Tilting the aerosol can beneath his meaty paw, he depressed the nozzle. The quick blast covered the Sprite and filled the jar with a glittering, golden substance. The Sprite fell to the bottom of the jar gasping and choking. "Too much?” Toby asked the Maker.
The Maker shrugged. “Probably."
"Okay, T,” I said as I watched the Sprite recover. “Now take it outside and let it go." "You're letting it go?” Karl asked in horror. “After what I did to it?” He took a deep breath and leaned against the kitchen table leg with a long face. “I'm boned." Toby eyed me warily. “Seriously?"
I nodded.
"Okay,” Toby exhaled. Walking past me, he opened the front door and stopped. Looking at the Sprite one final time, he pulled his hand away from the top. Flittering out, the Sprite turned and gave us the finger. “Just wait until I find a new swarm,” he warned us, “you three are dead! Dead!” Turning, it glowed brightly and flitted off. Toby set the jar down and handed me the PDA. “I hope you know what you're doing.” He looked at the glittering gold spot on his hand the spray had created. I forced a smile. “Me too.” Activating the PDA, I watched a red dot moving around the screen. It looked as if the Sprite was drunk. “Seems to be working,” I nodded to the Maker. “I'll bring it back when we're finished."
The Maker dismissed the idea with his hand. “No worries. I can make more.” He turned his attention to Toby. “You might want to wash your hands, big guy." Toby's eyes widened. “Why?"
The Maker smiled. “No reason.” He rubbed his beard stubble again. “Might want to hurry though."