"This is going too far," said Marshall.
Dash nodded.
"I knew this town was messed up," he said, "But this crosses the line."
"It's evil," Marshall agreed.
The cactus cat mewled pitifully, four green and spiny claws peddling the air as it rolled on it's back, prickly belly exposed to the rich golden light of a Saturday afternoon in summer. It's eyes were cloudy milk-white and fixed pleadingly on Simon's own. Already Simon's hands were scratched and bleeding, clusters of black needles embedded in the soft skin of his palms. Tentatively he reached for the purring, squirming creature who writhed at his feet.
"Simon!" said Marshall. "Just leave it alone already!"
"But he's so cute," Simon protested. "And look at him! He's desperate for cuddles!"
"Yeah, well, you're going to be desperate for fingers if you keep petting it," said Dash.
Simon reluctantly returned his wounded hands to the pockets of his hand me down flannel jacket. His eyes were huge and wet and it was only partly due to the tattered and oozing state of his fingertips.
"Maybe I could wear mittens," he said, as though a prickly desert cat-beast could be made safe with something as mundane as wool.
Dash sighed and started pulling his coat on.
"You're leaving?" asked Marshall, not quite able to hide his disappointment.
"Yes," said Dash. "Radford keeps suits of armour at the back of the World o' Stuff. Those medieval knights were tiny - there's bound to be a set of chain mail oven gloves that'll fit you, Shrimpenstein."
Simon brightened.
"Wow!" he said. "That's really nice. Thanks, Dash."
"Whatever," said Dash. "It's near a security camera blind spot."
"Oh," said Simon, his shoulders sagging. He looked down at the cat, his expression torn.
"No it isn't," said Mars.
"Shut up," said Dash.
( Read the rest of the Trusted Associates verse here )( Read the rest of the First Kiss series here )( Read the rest of the Microwave verse here )