DROP FORTY-SIX
Canvas showed up out of the blue and Hector had a mini heart-attack.
He walked inside the shop, casually holding his high-tech rifle. He wore the armour Hector made for him, with patches of transparent material that attenuated his magnificent physique while still being able to stop large rounds.
“Hey, Canvas!” Hector squeaked. “I didn’t expect to see you this soon!”
“It’s been a month,” Canvas said simply. He leaned in into the display case, which squeaked under his weight.
“Time flies. And with the new team, things have been crazy, you know? Expenses, things to take care of, forms to fill out, contracts, expenses, a ton of expenses. I’m tapped out, man,” he pleaded. Wincing, he braced for the inevitable tearing up of his shop.
Canvas shrugged. “It’s okay,” he said sol
