The Maze
“Arthur! Arthur! Where are you? I want those twenty bucks!” You call out. You scan the park, trying to find where your blonde-haired buddy went.
“This is for helping me find Roderich and getting us out of that maze,” Elizabeta hands you a ten dollar bill.
“I-I can’t,” you refuse, stammering from the sudden gratitude.
“Don’t give it back, that would be considered rude from where I’m from,” Elizabeta insists.
“And where are you from?”
“Hungary, and Mr. I-can’t-even-find-my-way-out-of-his-own-house over there is from Austria.”
“Well, thank you, I guess?” You reply, your thanks coming out more like a question. “Anyway, I have to go find my friend, see you!” waving to your new friends, you go in search of Arthur.
“This is for helping me find Roderich and getting us out of that maze,” Elizabeta hands you a ten dollar bill.
“I-I can’t,” you refuse, stammering from the sudden gratitude.
“Don’t give it back, that would be considered rude from where I’m from,” Elizabeta insists.
“And where are you from?”
“Hungary, and Mr. I-can’t-even-find-my-way-out-of-his-own-house over there is from Austria.”
“Well, thank you, I guess?” You reply, your thanks coming out more like a question. “Anyway, I have to go find my friend, see you!” waving to your new friends, you go in search of Arthur.