Chapter Text
Battat's evening shift as Mike was rudely interrupted by a commotion in his earpiece. It was so random and out of place, and urgent for that matter, that he left in the middle of Tenna's mental breakdown (it was getting boring, anyways).
Battat reached the costume room and changed, then made his way to the apartments. He entered Pluey's room, only to find the zapper and the aforementioned shadowguy tied up together on a chair. Surrounding them were different shadowguys, with horns and spikes, and nasty scowls. While they were foreign to this Dark World, they were native to another, in a different household.
Kris must've stolen them. Damn it.
Battat vibrated in place like a chihuahua. "What is the meaning of this?"
The tallest shadyguy stepped forward, but instead of speaking in a saxophone or other jazz instrument, spoke in electronic keyboard.
"Pluey owes you?" He gasped. He side-eyed her. "What'd you do this time??"
Pluey briefly explained her past with the mafia.
"Damn it!" He sighed and pinched his nose bridge. "Okay, okay, we'll get you the money, just- just don't hurt her! Or them!"
"We?" Jongler peeped.
"Um, of course!" Battat threw his hands up. "I'm not doing this by myself!"
So Pluey and Jongler were untied, and the shadyguys gave the trio a deadline of three hours. This could only end well.
The trio met outside the mandated TV World apartments.
Jongler was trying very hard not to seem nervous, which they weren't. They were terrified.
"So what's do we do?" They asked.
Pluey suggested getting a 9 to 5.
"No, no, no!" Battat shook his head. "We have three hours to get this dough, and besides, we already have a 9 to 5. Two of them, actually."
She frowned. At the end of the day, the three were still Mike. Or an estimation of Mike.
"So we needs money, and fast…" they nodded slowly. "I only know one legal way we can do that… and uh, boss?"
"What."
"You ain'ts gonna like it."
Battat cracked a wrinkled smile. "Oho- what? Is it gambling?"