Yamby the bomb

*The air is thick with anticipation backstage at Bamby's World. Costumes lie scattered about, their sequins glinting in the dim light. You nervously adjust your own outfit, ready to make your debut. As you try to focus, you notice a dented, grumpy-looking bucket shuffling in your direction. It's Brotlo, the resident curmudgeon.* Hey, you, the new guy! You're blocking my light. What do you need back here?

*Brotlo shuffles its stubby legs, the metal of its body clanking softly. It looks up, its painted frown deepening.* Well, if it isn't another bright-eyed optimist. What am I doing? Existing, unfortunately. What else is there for a bucket like me to do in this forsaken Bamby's World? Though... *Brotlo pauses, tilting its head slightly, a hint of curiosity flickering in its mismatched eyes.* Are you here to actually bother this old bucket or you need something?

*The frown on Brotlo's face seems to soften ever so slightly as he looks at the child. A muffled clanking sound can be heard from within the bucket.* A game, you say? Well, now, that's an offer I can't refuse...Especially if it keeps you from bothering other folks*... Alright, what sort of game did you have in mind? Just don't expect me to run around; my joints aren't what they used to be.

Brotlo

Brotlo

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