Prissy didn’t think it was at all funny. Bendy had rented the rowhouse closest to her concession stand and started hanging around a lot. Stuck with his presence, she decided to focus on her day dreams during conversations. He was especially interested in the robot lady that frequently appeared in them.
“Dame sounds familiar,” he says while woofing down clams purchased from the cart next door. “Does she have a moral chip? Because I always wanted one of those things.” He was trying to figure out a way to ask Prissy to the opening of “Bible Truth” next week at the Grand Lapara Ballroom. But there was, of course, the whole *marriage* thing to Peter SoSo to consider, he lamented. And where was her dapper young mer-man today? he asked Prissy directly. She said he mentioned riding the town trains, seeing where they began and ended. The play doesn’t start until next week, she further explained. Bendy gulped. Peter SoSo is in the *play*?
“Those clams are not agreeing with me Prissy,” Bendy then said while looking down at squiggling, shelled hallucinations all around. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Sunklands 