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Quick, Before The Enchantress Sees!

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“So.” Polar Knight frowns, crossing his large, muscular arms. “Who broke it?”

Sitting on the table in front of the Order of No Quarter is a broken coffee pot. The glass is shattered, small puddles of once boiling coffee spilled all over the tablecloth. Anything that could be considered salvageable is hard to find. Even if one could theoretically find the salvageable bits and pieces, it wouldn’t be much at all.

“I’m not mad, I just want to know.” Polar Knight continues, his voice firm and steady.

A brief moment of silence falls between the members, all wondering who the guilty party is. Finally, Tinker Knight raises a single, gloved hand.

“I did it. I broke it,” he admits.

“No. No, you didn’t.” Polar Knight retorts with a frown, “King Knight?”

“Don’t look at me!” King Knight replies, raising his hands in defense. Directing his hands towards the knight next to him, he adds, “Look at Specter Knight!”

“What? I didn’t break it.” Specter Knight protests, though only shocked at King Knight’s behavior briefly.

“Ha!” King Knight guffaws, “That’s funny – how did you know it was broken in the first place?”

Specter Knight appears to frown. “Because it’s sitting right in front of us, and it’s broken.”

King Knight looks skeptically at the undead knight before turning his gaze to Polar Knight. “Suspicious.”

“No, it’s not!” Specter Knight shouts, slamming his bony hands on the table.

“Heh, if it matters, and it probably doesn’t, but…” Plague Knight begins, “Propeller Knight was the last one to use it.” Propeller Knight gasps in response, the picture of Edwardian offense.

“Liar! I don’t even drink that filth!” The sky pirate refutes, sticking his nose into the air as if to keep from drowning.

“Oh, really, then?” Plague Knight chuckles, “Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?”

“I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles!” Propeller Knight explains angrily, “Everyone knows that, Plague Knight!!”

“Hey, let’s not fight.” Tinker Knight pleads, “I broke it. Let me fix it, Snow Man.”

No!” Polar Knight bellows, taking his shovel and embedding its blade into the table, therefore breaking the table. “Who broke it!?

Silence falls. Nobody wants to show any sign of guilt, excluding Tinker Knight, though he appears to be the furthest thing from the culprit. Finally, from farther back, another knight speaks up.

“Polar Knight…” Treasure Knight whispers, albeit in a stage whisper, “…Mole Knight’s been a little quiet.”

REALLY?!!” Mole Knight yells at Treasure Knight.

“Yes, really!” Treasure Knight replies.


While the rest of the Order argues amongst themselves, Polar Knight takes his shovel, exits the room, and turns to a nearby Liquid Samurai.

“I broke it,” he confesses stoically. “It burned my hand, so I punched it. I predict ten minutes from now, they’ll be at each other’s throats with war paint and a pig head on a stick.” Polar Knight looks behind him to see the chaos he had sown.

The knight gives what counts as a sly smirk for him. “Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.”