“A puppet that starts to improvise badly is almost funnier than the puppet that’s improvising well. So the show gets better when the improvising is really good, but also the show can also sometimes get better when the improvising sort of goes a little wrong that’s sort of a blessing to improvising with puppets.”
- Brian Henson
“I cannot do this.” Petra said as she backed up into the right corner of the office.
“She is having a bad day.” Croft said to Fable sympathetically. “Give us a moment.”
Croft reached out to Petra and put an arm around her shoulders. Petra leaned into the embrace and whispered “I want to help, but this is vile.”
“It is just another job.” Croft said quietly.
“No, we are denying his freedom.”
“Look at him. Look at what we are doing.”
“We were hired to do this. It is our fate. We need money.”
“I believe in money, but I don’t believe in fate,” Petra said. “I can’t believe there is a grand plan. If there is fate… we are just puppets. It is the death of choice, responsibility, or personal power. The universe would have value, but we won’t have any way to give our own lives personal value. We’d be decorative dolls living for others or for a senseless goal. Croft, if I can’t change who I am because of my fate… then I can never be anything more than what I am now.”
Croft stared at Petra before she silenced Kelly with a look and said “the puppet show is over. Just talk to him. He is like us. You don’t have to do this.”
Fable pulled away from Voltaire and backed towards the desk. “You are in this together… I knew there was something going on!”
“This is why I wanted to confirm his cooperation first.” Voltaire snapped.
Fable ripped open the top desk draw and pulled out a gun. He pointed it at the intruders. “I want answers. Talk or you die.”
Disclaimer: This is an original story that is not based on any real people or events. It is a work of fiction that is purely for your entertainment.