???: It's beautiful!
???: This is what Father used to protect.
???: But, it is mine now.
???: Heh heh, the robots can't tell real fire from fake. Just a few sheets of nitrate flash paper, they'd turn on all the fire sprinklers loyally.
???: Then, a steady stream mixed with slug essence from the fire water reservoir gushed out of the sprinkler heads.
???: Ms. Acey, did you see how the robots were glued to the floor, unable to move? If they had emotions, they would have cursed me to death. Heh heh!
???: Are you satisfied with the answer, Ms. Acey?
Ms. Acey: One last to go, Melania.
Melania: Huuhh! What a strict mentor!
Melania: No worries. I will get back to the hotel as planned, right on the dot!
Melania: humming
Melania: The next stop is Room 1132, Insomnia Nighty Hotel.
Melania: Get to Regent Street. Take a rest on the bench at the fifth flower bed for 3 minutes and 25 seconds. Then turn into the lane next to Honey Candy House ...
Ms. Acey: Gurrr!
The handbag suddenly starts to shake. It seems it wants to escape from Melania.
Melania: Ms. Acey?
Ms. Acey: On your right.
The ground on the right side starts vibrating with the strong beats of music.
A strange fire engine slowly drives into Regent Street.
Melania: What? Wh-What's going on?!
In the witness of the crowd, the fire engine with strange patterns raises a bucket above the water tank. A glossy soap bubble comes out. Then more of the distorting, mirror-like spheres follow.
Melania: Fire engine ... bubbles ... ?
Melania: Is this the latest way to extinguish fire? But why is it here?
Melania: coughs There seems to be something wrong with the bubbles.
Ms. Acey: Not good. Leave.
The soap bubbles glisten in the sun. But what is shown on their reflective surface seems unusual.
Melania shields her eyes cautiously and runs in the opposite direction.
Melania: Oh, right. Only three minutes left. I ... I must go now.
Bump!
A Happy Passerby: Don't stand in the way, hey! That's not the direction, boy!
A Joyful Passerby: Ah, I see. That's a ski resort on the snowy mountain. Best place for vacation.
Enticed by the visions of their dream lives reflected in the bubbles, the passersby are now moving slowly in one direction.
They all walk in the same direction, and not a single man can reverse the flow. The crowd eventually stops at the fire engine.
Melania: Hey, hey! Don't push me! Wait!
Someone sticks his head out of the car window.
Diggers: Elders and youngsters, friends who are passionate or reserved!
Diggers: Welcome to the Bang Bang Frisbee Rock 'n' Roll Party!
Diggers: This is an improvised and liberated event of art that everybody can join!
Diggers: This is the Utopia, where you can totally voyage far even with myopia. This is our world in the future. Hee hee ha!
Melania: Who's this?
Melania: Ugh! A knobhead causing traffic jams on my way?
Ms. Acey: There's no time.
Melania: Huumm.
Melania: Okay. Take it easy. Take it easy. Just fix these bubbles.
Melania: There must be something that works. Disguising caps, sticky balls, hiding cups ...
Ms. Acey: Arrrggghhh.
Melania: Found it! The Smart Detergent Gun!
Melania: Twenty-three detergent balls at one shot. In a flash, it will make this place shiny as new.
Melania: Heh heh, perfect answer! Give me back my empty streets!
She fires the gun. Several dark-green bullets shoot out at the floating soap bubbles, and the scene is like a fireworks show.
Ms. Acey: Don't.
Ms. Acey: It's ... Super Absorbent.
Soon, the bubbles are gathered together by an unknown force and form a huge, transparent globe.
Diggers: Oh, my adorable bubbles. Look how you embrace each other enthusiastically! Take it away! It is the summon of Euterpe, the revelation of Terpsichore.
Diggers: Haha! Thank you so much! That avant-garde, courageous, and innovative girl in the leather cap!
Melania: Ah ...
The crowd seems to be deeply caught in their reveries, believing what they see in the bubbles to be true.
This is an unexpected party.
Melania: These unplanned and inexplicable things ... Ah, I think I'm also affected by the visions.
Melania: The traffic is totally congested. No chance to get back to normal in 2 minutes and 25 seconds.
Leather shoes, glasses, dog leashes, and frisbees have all been thrown into the sky. The crowd becomes even crazier.
Those who walk in the opposite direction block Melania's way. Her body and her mind have been pushed backward.
Melania: Honey Candy House ... Insomnia Nighty Hotel ...
Melania: Calm down, Melania.
Melania: You've sorted out a roadmap of all the blocks in London. You need a new plan, a bold new plan.
A tramp in the restless crowd is extremely happy. He freely walks in the crowd and takes Melania's handbag precisely.
Tramp: Woaaaa! Parties, parties! Throw them to the sky! Your magazines, your handbags ... Everything!
Tramp: Celebraaaate! Hahahahaha!
Charlton: Hey! That's my magazine! What are you doing?!
Melania: What are you going to do with Ms. Acey? Give it back to me!
The soap bubbles, also the mind fragments of Diggers's, float around the tramp and fill him with confidence. He feels himself the most powerful, fearless, and courageous, like Hercules defending his war trophy.
Charlton: Watch out. He's mad!
COMBAT
Charlton: Geez! I can't tell his strength just from his appearance!
Charlton: Phew, well, um, Ms. Melania, thank you for your ... bewildering variety of gadget. I would have been in trouble otherwise!
Charlton: If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know.
Melania: Time is over. My plan ... It all ...
The girl holding the handbag drops her shoulders. It seems she still lingers in a world of depression.
Charlton: Miss ...?
Charlton: Oh, no, you're not under the influence of Reflective Bubble, are you? That's not good. You need to wake up before the police come!
Melania: The police?!
Melania: You're right. I haven't finished my answer sheet. There are way more important things to do. I can't get stuck here. Huuhh!
She wipes her face, takes several deep breaths, and calms down.
Melania: Please, show me to the hotel, the one nearest to here and farthest from the police station, if you really want to thank me.
Charlton: Err, Re-Rest Inn? Maybe you could take your chances there. A better choice would be Insomnia Nighty Hotel, but apparently, the way there is blocked by the stupid fire engine.
Charlton: Rest Inn is around the third corner down the lane from here. By the way, stay away from those nutters dancing in bubbles and keep an eye on your handbag, so you don't end up like me.
He takes a glance at the worn-out magazine, World Soccer, in his hand and sighs.
Charlton: Huuhh! I managed to grab it from the newsagent's, and this is what happened!
Charlton: Oh, my Rimet Cup legend. I bought it for my collection precisely because of the column topic in this issue.
Melania: The Rimet Cup?
Charlton: Yes, you know it too? The same trophy that was won by Brazil four years ago!
Charlton: It's suddenly missing during the exhibition and was replaced with a counterfeit by a thief when nobody knew. The security company failed to do anything and thus paid out a huge compensation.
Charlton: The genuine thing was only found in the trash months later. That legendary trophy has now arrived in London. It will be the most wonderful award given to the winner!
While Charlton is fully wrapped up in the excitement of sharing his story, a huge bubble is slowly turning this way. It is attracted by his story too, obviously.
Bang!
A smell of sour flame wine soon surrounds him.
Charlton: coughs Whoaaa!
Charlton feels a sharp sting in the nose. This is one of the awful side effects brought by these soap bubbles—they don't burst, instead, they capture their prey with invisible, frizzy antennae.
Something seems to be burning in Charlton's head. The next second, the colorful bubble hits him with a gentle bump.
Charlton: Am I seeing things?! This is actually a celebration party for England! And it's the biggest ever, wah-hahaha!
Charlton: Pickles, Pickles, come on!
Melania: Mr. Charlton, are you ... all right?
Melania: It's March. Still quite a long way to go before the World Cup final.
Charlton: Is it?
Charlton: Thank you for reminding me. I need to tell Pickles in case he goes there for nothing.
Charlton is about to leave.
Charlton: Pickles, my little Pickles!
He staggers a few steps and falls to the ground.
Melania: Huuhh! He shouldn't have let his guard down. The bubbles from the fire engine must have been turned into a sort of lifeform by some specific incantations. Huuhh! Poor Mr. Charlton.
Melania: I suggest you try some of this.
Melania takes a bottle of mist spray from her handbag and sprays it at Charlton's nose.
Melania: Stinky Mud Freshener. It cleans the air nearby with its brutal destructive power, only with a slight side effect.
Charlton: Poof! coughs
The tip of Charlton's nose becomes red. He sits on the ground, gasps for a while, and gradually calms down.
Charlton: Ah, I feel so much better now. I almost couldn't breathe. Phew!
He is about to say thank you, but soon realizes the girl with a handbag has gone.
Charlton: Hey! Thank you, Ms. Melania!
Charlton: God bless you and have a safe journey!
He wipes out the dust on his clothes but finds the magazine missing. Instead, there's a strange bottle of mist spray in his hand.
Charlton: ...?
Melania puts a worn-out magazine into her handbag.
After taking several more corners, she will arrive at the newly set destination—Rest Inn.
Melania: You're welcome, Mr. Charlton. I think the Stinky Mud Freshener would suit you better.
Melania: God bless you to find your little Pickles soon.