Awsamdude blinked wearily at Fwhip. The Grimlands count cursed as oil, black as ink, spilled out the side of the small machine on the table he was working on.
Sam yawned. Fwhip looked over.
"Do you actually ever sleep? I mean, I know you were a prison warden and all that, but didn't you ever have, like, team workers?"
Sam shrugged. "There was Sam Nook, of course. He kind of hates me now. And Quackity, I guess. But, uh, he wasn't really interested in my department of work. He did the other stuff in the prison."
Fwhip raised his eyebrows. "Like, Taxes? Was he your accountant or something? Janitor? Lawyer?" Sam slowly shook his head.
"I, uh... He was in charge of... Prisoner interactions? Business deals?"
Fwhip nodded. "Okay. And you said the prisoner's were Dream, and Techno? But one escaped? Techno, right?"
Sam nodded. Then he looked towards the door.
"Wilbur is taking a long time. Do you want me to check on him?"
Fwhip shook his head.
"Nah. I sent him to look for the tool box on the dining table in the west wing, right?"
"Yes?"
"There is no west wing. Also, that guy is evil."
YOU ARE READING
Empires Smp meets Dream Smp
FantasyThe vibrations had ben happening all morning. But something is really starting to feel off when a forest spirit warns Shubble of the under grove, when Queen Lizzie spots a storm brewing on the horizon, when Jimmy starts to get warning from his cod...
