[PUNCH CLOCK ANIMAL] ASHTRAY

[skinstealer]

Bucket's body twists and tears itself until they’re no longer the cutesy dog they seem to be this entire trip. 
 

BUCKET: Nothing but the truth from my mouth, and not a soul would believe you if you ever repeated it. You'd be deemed a conspiracist. Pick a limb. Specify which one.

  
Matthias shuts up, not saying a word. Bazil can't help but grin.
 

 

BUCKET: Pick one.
MATTHIAS: L-left leg! No, arm. Left arm!

   

 
A large, heavy, sharp cuff manifests around his left arm, tightening until it’s on the verge of cutting in.
 

 
A mirroring one manifests onto Bucket. 
 

BUCKET: Your fate will be linked to mine. Your ability to sleep at night, to wake up in the morning, your happiness, all of it. 
BUCKET: This will only hurt for a moment, enough pain to potentially knock most people out but I assure you will be awake for all of it. 

 

 
He starts to struggle, trying to get away from them.
 

BUCKET: You cannot run.

 


The cuff guillotines both of their limbs at once, Bucket entirely unphased. Matthias almost starts screaming, Bazil lunging forward and wrapping a meat scrap around his throat as both his and Bucket’s arm fall.
 

BAZIL: Don't want to wake up any other patrons, you sick fuck.

   
 
The limbs squirm and flail before crawling over toward the opposing dog, stitching and resizing themselves to appropriately fit on the freshly cut stump. 
 

 
The process feels like needles and hot oil, sending pain up both dogs’ shoulders. Matthias does manage a gargled scream now, Bazil struggling to keep him clamped. 
 

BAZIL: Hurry it up!

 

It molds to fit proportionately, distinctly not quite the original limb but at a distance, a match. Little strands of the other's fur speckle in, creating a mixed effect. 
  

BUCKET: You are now under my watch. So long as part of me is attached to you, I control the state of your body. Shall I be injured, I may repair myself by taking flesh from you. Dare imply I had anything to do with this and I’ll vaporize your entire being on the spot. I want you to come up with a story and stick to it. Any inconsistencies I will hear about. If you play your cards right we will rarely need to interact ever again and you will not have to think about being a living bomb. Do you understand?

  


He nods quickly, eyes full of fear and anger. Bucket grabs him by the wrist and lifts him up. 
  

BUCKET: Now I will treat your injuries.
BAZIL: Hold up.
BUCKET: You're right, this is your fight first is it not?
 

 

Bazil pulls back his hand, Matthias unable to get a word out before he sends a shocking punch into his chest and leaving him spluttering and barely conscious.
 

BUCKET: Get a few more in.
BAZIL: With pleasure.