Everything Must Go
The street's market stalls were more chaotic than usual, even taking parade day into account. A lot of the merchandise had grown, or mutated, or otherwise gone nuts, and all of it was on the rampage. I'd thought I'd seen everything, until I saw a plaster Buddha headbutt a roaring, fanged coffee urn.
"What the hell is going on here?" I asked the little old lady who sold me the only newspaper I could read in this place.
"Wo bu zhi dao!" she shouted, whacking a cheap brass dragon statuette with her cane. It retaliated by setting fire to the newspaper rack. "This never happen before! Everything crazy!"
A swarm of flying fortune cookies came buzzing toward us -- I grabbed one out of the air and crushed it in my hand as grandma frantically waved a flyswatter at them. My fortune said "Helping other leads to help youslef. Lucky Number 11, 23, 37."
Well, what the hell. I couldn't just leave the shopkeepers in the lurch -- some of them were the nearest thing I had to friends in this place. And my slef could certainly use some helping. I rolled up my sleeves and wandered into the fray.
References
- "Wo bu zhi dao!" means "I don't know!" in Chinese.
Occurs on your first adventure in Chinatown Shops.
