“Yeah I knew it was soda all along. I was just riffing you.” Phillip Linden was trying to act cool. Just because he *created* all this doesn’t mean he’s not still behind the times. Creators loose control of their creation. It’s a given once it’s let loose in the world. Real Life. No trademark on *that*.
“Soooo. Are you by chance part of the Yellow Group that’s, ahem, taken over? Through the peaks, I mean. I’m just asking because you’re…”
“Yellow?” the perpetually soda spilling man without a name so far finishes for the famed world creator. World of Lime that is. Lemon World is different. “I might be.” His cell phone rings — good timing. “I have to take this.”
“Sure, sure.”
—–
“Is he there?” the ant being asked one of his loyal workers.
“Yeah. He’s here.” The yellow man stares over as Phillip’s head gets big again. Like a screwdriver.
“Put him on. I want to speak with him. About Rookwood,” the ant punctuates ominously.
Sunklands 