Mr. Turtle fiddled with the buttons of his rocket armor as Pheiyn went into DR-201-978 (the shop of the mischievous). He went in to see a large pair of glowing shoes.
“Don't you go near those shoes, young boy, for they are cursed with the tears of a thousand sea lions,” the old shop clerk croaked.
“Excuse me?” Pheiyn asked with curious look.
“Like I said, it is cursed. Five sailors we caught killing sea lions, then the witches of the darkened islands took their course. They are made out of 100% human skin.”
“But right here it says ‘all plastics produced in Aran Guard.”
“Get out of my shop!” cried the shopkeeper. Pheiyn grabbed the shoes and ran out of the store with Mr. Turtle flying close behind. “Wait!” A wall of sand appeared in front of them cutting off Pheiyn's arm. “Oh no let me fix that for you… I studied prothstetics in college I promise.” She ran round the shop frantically grabbing random odds and ends. “With some of the pipe, some valves, oh don't forget the wire. And with a lick of hot glue… there is your new arm. Do you like it?”
“You cut off my arm!”
“Take it or leave it child!”
“Arm is better than no arm I guess.”
“Good. So… can I have my shoes back?
“But I gave you an arm!”
“I wonder how strong this arm is…” with a crash, Pheiyn had struck a hole through the sand wall and ran off with Mr.Turtle.
They had made it four airship blocks before deciding that it was safe. “What just happened?” Mr. Turtle inquired as his eyes widened to see Pheiyn slipping on the bright gold shoes.
“I stole a small submarine and some shoes from a shopkeeper who happened to be witch of the sand. Then she cut off my arm, gave me this one and that catches us up to now.”
“Well… sorry you lost your arm and Sand witches are my least favorite type of witch. Good thing you took the shoes and the submarine.”
Pheiyn started to slide on the shoes when suddenly, his feet started to lift him into the air. Mr. Turtle’s jetpack sputtering, flew up to aid Pheiyn.
“Mr. Turtle, I don’t think I need help. I can control it, I think.” Pheiyn said while leaping from platform to platform. Pheiyn took off to their home ship, locked the doors, and went to bed.
The very next day Pheiyn woke up to the noise of starlings swarming above his shanty. Mr. Turtle pushed open his cabinet to be covered in dust. “What on Incae is happening? *cough* Where did all of this dust come from?”
“Not dust, *cough* sand.”
“The Sand witch.” Mr. Turtle hissed
“Maybe the whole club.”
“We need to return the shoes or at least get them uncursed. All of my suits are now sandy and my next job offer is in three days!”
“I wouldn't call black peach farming a job.”
They raced back to the shop at a staggering speed of 2 miles an hour. When they reached the shop, they told the sand witch what had happen.
“There was just so much sand, a lot of sand, an airship sack full of air.” She sat and pondered for a while then raised her finger. “I lift the curse at the crack of dawn, look over there, your jetpack is gone.”
She snapped her fingers, and they were in the Airbus 14a straight back to their shanty 5-7RT