The Butter Lobby
The following takes place following: Planning Permission
As the mayor’s team prepared to move the office to the Citadel, Master Devlin approached Travers with an unexpected suggestion. For reasons unknown, he was wearing a top hat and cape.
Master Devlin: Well, seeing as you value my advice, Travers, I have a recommendation: you should honour your campaign pledge to support local businesses... and endorse Dragon Brand Butter.
Travers: You must be joking.
Master Devlin: You would be mistaken, Travers.
Travers: That brand is so mired in scandal, it's astonishing it still exists. Also, I seem to recall the plant getting shut down—right around the time you let me take the fall for the whole thing and landed me in jail...
Master Devlin: That’s what you get for trying to take credit for everything. And scandal? Are you saying Travers isn’t mired in it?
Travers: People don’t like finding faecal matter in their butter, Master Devlin. And why are you dressed like that anyway? You’re supposed to be my Director of Communications and Chief of Staff—yet you look like some old-timey cartoon villain.
Master Devlin: I have no idea what you’re talking about. I always dress like this.
Travers: I don’t think so. And what’s with the Vincent Price impression?
Master Devlin: Oh, come now, Travers. You’re being far too suspicious. If you can’t trust the Master, who can you trust? You literally hired me to sweep up your various scandals. Think of me like I’m like antivirus software—now be a good mayor and support a local business.
Travers: Clean it up, then. Get a clean bill of health from the inspector, and I’ll consider it.
Master Devlin: It has reformed.
Travers: Oh really? Prove it.
The Master hands Travers a letter.
"Dear Master Devlin,
Please accept this letter as confirmation that your business, Dragon Brand Food Emporium Ltd, meets the acceptable criteria to produce goods for consumption.
Yours sincerely,
Dr Mantis Toboggan, MD"
Travers: Mantis Toboggan, huh? Didn’t I represent him once?
Master Devlin: Maybe. I don’t know how many strange creatures you’ve worked with.
Travers: Whatever. Fine—you can have my public endorsement. But there’s no way in hell I’m eating that butter. And I’ll thank you not to mention it again.
Master Devlin: I think you need to publicly try it if you’re going to endorse it. You’ve never tasted it, so how would you know you don't like it? Come down to the factory and try some free samples.
Travers: I don't think so...
Master Devlin: So disappointing. Why not?
Travers: I know you, Master Devlin.
Master Devlin: And what exactly is it you think you know?
Travers: I know that when it comes to butter, you become some deranged deviant. And I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you when you get like this.
Master Devlin: Whatever do you mean, my boy?
Travers: You’re being sinister and weird. Not to mention creepy as hell.
Master Devlin: What has the Master done to earn your distrust? Nothing—that’s what. You’re just like every politician—so full of shit, with your head crammed so far up your own arse.
Travers: And you’d know all about that. I know where that butter has been.
Master Devlin: No, Mr Mayor. You're speaking out of turn...Why don't you just—
Travers: I said no... And I’m not having this conversation anymore, Master Devlin.
Master Devlin: Yeah, yeah… douchebag. (calls out) Oh, Mayuri, my dear—would you like to try some of my butter?
Travers: No! Don’t you dare...
Master Devlin: Don’t I dare what?
Travers: Stay away from her! You’re clearly in perv mode. The editor warned me about this.
Master Devlin: Well, Chantelle tried it and enjoyed it. She had a whole stick of Dragon Brand Butter in her mouth.
Travers: Get out! Go on, Master Devlin—take a walk. Don’t come back until you’ve got your head on straight.
Master Devlin: Fine, then. I’m going on holiday. Good luck with the move, prick.
Travers: Fine, but make it local. I hear Yokelstedt is nice...
Master Devlin: Nah. I’m going to the Maldives. And I shall leave immediately.
Travers: No! Wait just a damn minute—
Master Devlin: Excuse me? I am the Master. I do what I want.
Travers: I didn’t start this campaign to promote tourism across Waldoshire just so my Chief of Staff could go on holiday in another country! How would that look? The press will have a field day.
Master Devlin: I don’t care.
Travers: My friend, don’t be an asshole!
Master Devlin: I will do what I must... Goodbye, Travers. See you in a few weeks—perhaps...
****
The Master heads out onto the street, spreads his wings, and takes off into the sky.
He soars out of Widdlington, heading west, gliding over Lake Waldron. Suddenly, from the long grass by the water, a distinct fart sound echoes.
Ed pops up in a hunter’s hat, holding an elephant rifle. He takes aim, fires, and strikes the Master in the wing, sending him crashing into the reeds with a snarl of pain.
Ed ambles over, blowing into a small device that makes the same fart sound. He pats the injured Master on the head.
Ed: Heard you were going on holiday? Well, you’re in luck. I just created all these new places within walking distance...
He pulls a travel guide written by Samuel Waldo from his coat and hands it over.
Ed: Take your pick. You won’t be flying for a while with that wing. Don’t worry—I won’t leave you without a travel companion.
He pulls Waldo from his pocket, winds him up.
wF: Oh hi, masta! 🙂
Ed: So long. Enjoy your holiday!
Ed vanishes into the tall grass.
wF: Where is we? Hey... that tower looks familiar. Wanna go there?
Master Devlin: No. I'm going to hospital.
wF: Sopital? Where??
Master Devlin: What is it you want, Widdle Frunkut?
wF: I just want to say hello!
Master Devlin: Fine... well, we may as well head to Waldron. It’s the nearest town. Find a tavern or something.
wF: Yay! Can we slaughter?
Master Devlin: No! Why do you want to do that?
wF: Dunno. Being out in the country reminds us of ye olde times.
Master Devlin: You will behave yourself.
The Master sighs, then begins frisking Frunkut, pulling out and confiscating seven knives.
wF: Well then. Lead the way! 😏
Season 6 continues in A Waldron Welcome