I’m wrong, it’s a Goth, who in all probability wondered off from her tour group hours ago. A shaft of moonlight through a window reveals her black, sleeveless cotton top. Her arms are covered in tattooed symbols. Fog Girl.
“Yo lady, you looked at the token, huh? Brrrh!” She rubs her forearms to keep warm.
“Weren’t you committed?”
“Yeah, more bad spelling, but I got bored. Tell me truthfully, if a way distant galaxy, invisible to the naked eye, went missing, would you notice? I mean, galaxies come and go, don’t they? Seriously, isn’t there a heating switch we can crank up?”
“You attacked me.”
“The token accesses your individual life-magics, works out what’s missing from your life, and fills the gap. You were missing a sidekick, so here I am. Your journey could do with a guide. I bet we share a lot in common. What’s your favorite current music? Julie Corpse? The Bright Sound of Burgundy? 10,946? This is way cooler than being grounded, or even committed. We could do so much good. Or harm. It’s totally up to you.”
No wonder the slime being warned that the truth could drive me over the edge.