The Strange Misadventures of Mr. Nice Guy: Where Mr. Nice Guy Meets An ACTUAL Merchant

Mr. Nice Guy and Zephyr trudged (well, Zephyr kinda floated through the air, but you know what I mean-), both of them sulking, both of them upset.

His hands and feet felt heavy, burdened by the crushing weight of his grief and the horrible, tearing pain he felt at Zephyr's betrayal. How could they even say that?! McDonald's was Dr. Crowell's favorite fast-food resturant!!!

His tail dragged in the dust as he walked, his head hanging. Dr. Crowell was probably so disappointed in him. He probably hated the creature he'd spawned, even on accident. Dust spiraled behind him as he walked, the tips of his tentacles dragging in the dirt. His smile-disk was turned completely upside-down, a slash of bright white lightning contrasting against the dark, reddish colors that colored him.

His jacket was caked in mud. His feet were caked in mud. He felt muddy and clumpy and wet and-

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!" Zephyr shrieked suddenly, making Mr. Nice Guy rear back, his tentacles shooting back like a scared dog.

"W-what?" he whispered, glancing around futilely. His stomach hurt. Why did his stomach hurt?! Why did it feel like his teeth were aching?! He didn't even have teeth!!

"I can't take it anymore!!! I'm sorry, okay?! I didn't mean to offend you! I'm really sorry if me asking about your friend, Dr. Crowell, made you upset!!" Zephyr whined, clutching xer face in their paws and sinking to the ground like a dead leaf.

"You remind me of a soap opera." Mr. Nice Guy said after a while, staring at Zephyr, who glanced up, their eyes scrunched up in absolute confusion.

"A soap opera? What is that, a group bath with Ariel the Disney Princess?! Are we doing singing practice next?!" Zephyr barked, floating up into the air again and sending their medium-length dark fur hair flying in the wind. Their light green fur patches glowed brighter than Earth's sun, it seemed to Mr. Nice Guy in that moment, as Zephyr darted straight at his face.

Mr. Nice Guy yelped and ducked down as Zephyr flew nearly through his face, covering his face in his hands. "What are you doing?!" he cried, glancing up as Zephyr lunged for his face again. This time, Mr. Nice Guy sat still in confusion as Zephyr thrust their paw into his mouth and dug around, which made Mr. Nice Guy feel very awkward.

"Don't fall in!" he warned in a very high-pitched voice as Zephyr continued to search for whatever it was they'd seen in his face. Maybe it was his incredible hotness.

Why did he think that?

Frank's fault. He did it, murmured a sleepy voice in the back of his mind.

"Who's Frank?" he exclaimed as Zephyr pulled away, frowning, with something in their hand.

"Is it this thing?" Zephyr asked, holding up a vial with a shimmering green slime inside and frowning, their doglike teeth showing. The slime frowned at Zephyr, then promptly flipped them off without the use of fingers, as it had none, which made Zephyr scowl.

"What? I have no idea. And why were you digging in my mouth?!" Mr. Nice Guy cried, tapping his mouth ring nervously. "That was literally the most awkward thing I have ever experienced in my life!!"

"I saw a thing that looked like Lux. Thought maybe they had snuck into your mouth when you weren't looking." Zephyr said roughly, glaring at the slime. "Never liked that guy anyways," they grumbled, shaking the vial with the green slime inside and watching it scream for their own amusement.

Mr. Nice Guy stared at them, but unfortunately, the single brain cell it seemed the two of them shared was given to him at this very moment and Zephyr was critically unable to realize exactly how shockingly unrealistic his idea was.

"Anyways, I'm hungry." Zephyr muttered, popping open the vial and dumping the slime into their mouth, shaking it around like a dog and spraying the surrounding wooden deck and dark, rainbow water with goo, before they swallowed the slime and sighed happily. "Mhmmmm...My favorite. You should really try some. It's good," they sighed, leaning back like they were sitting in a beach chair and picking out a slimy glob from between their teeth. An orange lazer beam shot behind them, lighting up the swirling bluish trees behind them before they all melted away, leaving them in a black void.

"N-no thanks." Mr. Nice Guy stammered. "I'm good."

 

 

Several of what felt like years but were probably only mere moments, Mr. Nice Guy blinked, and suddenly he was sitting there, with Zephyr and another person standing there, staring at him, waiting.

"Erm..." he squeaked awkwardly, his skin crawling as he glanced around him. "Where am I?"

Zephyr stared at him, and after concluding that, in fact, Mr. Nice Guy had no idea where he was, Zephyr sighed and shook his head.

"You're at the Gloomweaver Bazaar, and we're getting your jacket cleaned up. Like you asked me about...five seconds ago?" Zephyr said slowly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Mr. Nice Guy said blankly, scratching his head.

"Then you wouldn't remember the five hours where you sung nothing but It's Raining Tacos and skipped along like you were Little Bo Peep." Zephyr muttered under their breath, then glanced at then, xer gaze softening a bit. "Anyways, do you still want to get your jacket fixed up? Sorry-Dr. Crowell's jacket?" they added quickly, trying for a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Please do. I want him to be SUPER DUPER EXCITED when I give it back!!!" Mr. Nice Guy squeaked, then frowned.

"How much Forbidden Rainbow Juice did I drink?!" he whispered in horror.

Zephyr sighed, then handed the person dressed in lovely red and orange robes a couple shiny gold coins from their pouches slung around their curvy snake-like body and glanced at Mr. Nice Guy, who obediently took off his jacket, the only piece of clothing he wore, and handed it to Zephyr.

Instant pandemonium erupted as Zephyr screamed a pitch higher than seemed allowed and dropped his jacket, which the merchant caught and quickly turned away.

"There are changing rooms. RIGHT OVER THERE." Zephyr whispered, pointing towards the back of the bustling market.

"Oh." Mr. Nice Guy said awkwardly. "Should I have gone over there? Why is it unacceptable for me to not wear clothes?" he wondered aloud, glancing down at himself, then Zephyr.

"It's a common sign of respect not to stare at someone naked." Zephyr said in a strained voice. "But then again, you're literally skin and bones, I'm guessing, so..."

"You would be correct. And a bunch of rocks that became my skin too." Mr. Nice Guy said, staring at the ground in awkward silence.

"ANYWAYS-" Zephyr began, then turned to the merchant, trying to avoid what had just happened and tossing him some clothes. "I got you some clothes. So you can wear them under your-Dr. Crowell's-jacket."
"Thanks." Mr. Nice Guy whispered.

And then, after a few quick stops at some stands to get Zephyr more slime, off they were.