Daniel Newwyn
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[I am a Table] Chapter 27
🕑 Added 2025-02-25 22:02:00 +0000 UTCLena hugged Blorbo the entire way back to her position, feeling every single crack on his surface. “You’re going to be fine, little thing. You’re going to be fine,” she whispered.
Ouch. Ouch! Don’t touch me there, you weirdo. Who caresses a table?
She gently placed Blorbo face-up, looking at Rob expectantly as she said, “I don’t want to fight anymore, Rob. Blorbo’s too damaged. Maybe we should concede.”
Yeah, you sure as damn hell should! Maybe then I’ll be able to forfeit this stupid quest!
Anders immediately raised his voice, “You care about that useless table more than my expensive knife collection?”
“Then why don’t you step in and help, Anders?” Rob asked. “Actually, don’t. I’ll do it.”
“Rob... what are you going to do?” Her voice was shaky, but there was a dash of hope in her eyes.
“His movements have always been the same. We can win. Trust me like I’ve trusted you. We’re going to lose nothing today,” he reassured her.
She went silent for a moment. “Okay.”
Rob took a deep breath as he closed his eyes. He exhaled as he opened those eyes, and they were full of a fire he didn’t have before.
The butler raises his hand. "Round 4, begin!"
Bimbleton smirked, his obsidian table already charging forward with unnerving speed. “This is the end for you, Blorbo! Say goodbye to your elegant moves! Extremely Almighty Push!”
But Rob didn’t flinch.
“Robert? What are you doing?” Lena called out.
Rob pulled Blorbo a step back.
Robbie boy… My life’s on the line here…
The table was closing the gap, fast.
Rob pulled Blorbo another step back.
“Rob!”
Rob!
They were only inches apart.
Rob pulled Blorbo yet another step back. His legs now touched the sandpaper patch near the door.
Robbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!
At the moment of impact, he pushed Blorbo into position, just before the sandpaper patch, and yelled, “I Don’t Have A Name For This Skill!”
The collision came.
Blorbo’s surface shuddered, the power of Bimbleton’s table crashing against it. But instead of breaking, Rob twisted Blorbo with precision, using the sandpaper patch’s resistance to slow down the obsidian table. For a moment, it looks like Blorbo is about to collapse—but then, in a flash of brilliance, the tables scraped across the ground with a screeching sound, completely dodging the obsidian table. The obsidian table's movement was disrupted, and it bounced back awkwardly.
The obsidian table lost its balance just enough to send it careening off-course, and for a brief second, the table's surface buckled! Not enough to break it, but it caused a visible dent.
Blorbo was unharmed.
I’m alive!
The butler stepped forward to examine the damage. Before he could speak, Bimbleton stepped forward, his face flushed with indignation. “Unacceptable! This is a breach of the rules! You pulled the table back too far!” His voice dripped with outrage as he pointed toward Rob, ready to throw a tantrum over what he deemed a questionable move. “That maneuver should be disqualified! You’re not supposed to—”
“Shut up, you dangling donkey!” Anders growled.
Lena immediately interjected, her voice sharp and full of confidence. “Hold on, Master. Didn’t the butler himself say that maneuvers happening outside of the oil slick surface are totally within the confines of the laws in the duel?” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
The butler, who had been staring down Bimbleton in quiet contemplation, hesitated. He glanced at the rules again, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Well, yes... That’s true,” he mumbled.
Bimbleton stepped on the floor loudly, but there was nothing he could do.
Rob turned to the butler. “So, what’s the verdict?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.
The butler took a moment to write down a few more notes before clearing his throat. “For this round, I’m awarding Rob and Lena a score of 6, for both the strength and grace of the maneuver,” he said. “However,” he added, pausing dramatically before looking at Bimbleton’s table, “I’m giving Master Bimbleton’s table a score of 5 for its attempt, despite the imbalance. No points were deducted for the error.”
Anders exploded into a string of curses, his voice rising to a pitch that made the guards flinch.
“WHAT?! A SIX?! A SIX for that?! Are you serious?” He shouted, his face turning crimson with fury. “That table was nearly sent to the moon! And you give them a six? For what? A bloody pirouette? A six? For a table that should’ve been reduced to firewood?!”
“Please, Mister Woodywise, control yourself,” the butler interjected calmly. “The decision has been made.”
Bimbleton scowled, clearly unsatisfied with the outcome. “But it’s still not enough!” he snapped. “Your score is worthless! You’ll never catch up to my score despite your feeble attempts at breaches!”
The butler gave an awkward cough. “Well, Master Bimbleton, it’s just... a discrepancy, not a breach,” he added sheepishly. “And the score stands.”
[CURRENT TALLY]
Rob/Lena: 16
Bimbleton: 21
Anders was nearly frothing at the mouth now. “These scores are a disgrace to the noble art of table dueling!”
Didn’t you say this was a rubbish noble tradition before?
Lena and Rob knew better than to protest. They were already planning their strategy for the final round. Too bad, because Blorbo was busy listening to Anders’ babble, he could only catch the end of the conversation.
“Let’s go with that,” Lena nodded.
“Yeah. We won’t win on points. But we will obliterate that obsidian table.”
Rob stared at the obsidian table with utmost concentration as he put Blorbo into position.
Whatever you’re scheming, Rob, you better make it worth it. Bimbleton won’t fall for the same trick twice. If he’s any smart, he might push his table just lightly enough for it to dawdle and be solid and win via scores.
But maybe even he’s too proud of a man to cheat that outright. Hopefully.
That move with the sandpaper had worked once, but now Bimbleton would expect it and counter it. After all, he was a filthy capitalist, and they were the best in the business of screwing other people.
Rob readied himself. Bimbleton readied himself with a wicked smile on his face.
Last round. No second chances.
The butler raised his hand. “Final round. Round 5, begin!” he announced.
