© 2026

"even past the beauty of your eyes, i can see the curiosity," the gray cat taunted

chelladine took a small purse from her backpack. a ruby-like dangly dangled from the silver-trimmed pocketbook. she slowly and deliberately took out a small leaf, which she began to gnaw on

the gray cat was visibly impatient

"look, there's only one reason why anyone ever comes here, and it is because they require, no, need, information about nair's game," he said, dragging his ragged paw pads against his face, stretching it out downwardsly

"downwardsly is not a word," chelladine pointed out, swallowing the remainder of the mint tasting leaf with a pronounced gulp

it was at this point the curator realized he was in an abstract construct

stepping back, the curator conjured a knife in his paw. the knife was a pronounced silver with red accents bleeding through it, as if the knife's previous victim had been immortalized

"downwardsly is probably not a word!" he cackled. "but nair was using wordpad for windows 10 when he wrote it, which he forgot did not have spell-check"

chelladine liked the knife the curator was holding quite a bit. "can i see your knife?" she said, turning her head sideways with the same previously innocuous motion

the curator tried to regain her focus. "chelladine, do you realize you can read the script we are performing? why did you mention that misspelt word?" he waved his knife around wildly

chelladine did not seem interested in metaphysical aberrations. she did seem interested in the knife, though. "i wish to see your gorgeous knife!" she asked again, a smile beginning to form on her precious ****ing face

the curator looked toward the 4th wall, eyes beaming. "with pleasure..."

the curator considered leaping forward and stabbing chelladine in the eye, but then scried the bottom of the store description to find out that this ends poorly for him and decided against it

chelladine turned around, panning over walls 1, 2, and 3, which were an endless, verdant, canopy filled forest. vibrant rays of imaginary sun seeped through the soothing trees. wall 2 was perpendicular to the computer monitor which she had touched and which the curator had climbed out of

it was at this point nair realized that despite his writing reticle having the appearance of a page, writing 10 pages for this description would be impossible since wordpad did not have page delineators. he searched around for a word count, or something similar that would give him an arbitrary goal to aim for

the curator slashed frustratedly in 3 dimensions. "nair! all you had to do was write a ****ing description for your ****ty game, and here i a-"

unwilling to ponder the dynamics of the scenario, nair reverted the scene to a previous instance, remembering to check the box that prohibits the story's characters from being able to observe the medium they exist in

chelladine sat on the grassy floor. "i love that this forest unpacks their grass. did you know there are lands that do not? huge, towering cubes of still-packed grass, looming over acres of raw dirt...such an unsightly spectacle"

the curator was dizzy, an all too familiar feeling. he looked down into his upturned paws, a gorgeous intricate handcrafted knife laying in them. chelladine's paws were above his, touching the knife

"thank you!" mused chelladine

chelladine sat on the grass with the knife in her paws, appreciating how the sun played off the silver and crimson. the silver had infinitely detailed oil-slick ravines, the crimson was like a bloody amber

the curator sat across from her, sighing, paws on face with his head held low

chelladine sniffed and licked the side of the knife with her prickly tongue

"hmm... i certainly can not figure out what kind of