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[center][color=f7941d][b]Location:[/b][/color] [b]G' Whiz[/b] Sweets Shop[/center][@Lexicon]

The sucker in his mouth rolled from one corner to the other as Hansel regarded the ghoul—or whatever the fuck it was—that moseyed into his and Gretel’s shop. His eyelids were narrowed in suspicion as the creature asked—didn’t ask for candy or sweets—for Crier. Hansel crossed his strong arms before his chest, pinched the end of his sucker and removed it a few inches from his mouth as he said rudely, “How about you get your ass out of my shop?”

Hansel didn’t like spooks, ghouls, and creeps. Heck! He hunted them and the creature was looking like it wanted to lose more than its ear. Since when did he become the detective’s keeper? Were they partners all of a sudden? If they were he wasn’t getting paid his portion.

“I’m going to go get my rifle,” Hansel nonchalantly told the creature as he turned toward the steps leading down to his basement. “…and if you’re not gone by the time I get back, I’m going to blast you. You can tell your [i]mistress[/i] not to send her muppets to my store again.”