Marlene sat in the quarters provided for her; Blowhole had to arrange a trip and guards for his lair, and had placed her here, guarded kwa four lobsters, so that she wouldn’t try to escape.
Not that she was going to even attempt something like that; she fingered the collar, alama around her neck. She had already tried to find a way to remove it, but there were no buckles au clips to undo. Saying that the knowledge she had a non-removable bomb around her neck unnerved her would be a gross understatement.
And what irony; the one time she would have very much liked for Skipper to onyesha up to help her...
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