A Welcome Wagon of Sorts

You stand shaking, unsure whether you are becoming a werewolf or a werepeach. Suddenly, a projectile whizzes by you, and you look up to notice a peasant woman with a pellet gun. "Why eats my peaches?" she demands of you.

Before you can respond, the woman is joined by either her father or her husband, a hairy man in medieval garb. "Stealing not possible here," he declares. "Pays or works for peaches? Either or, washes face first." He then drags you to a small stone building with a basin and a mirror, and you breathe a sigh of relief when the fuzz washes away without difficulty. Working to compensate for the peaches sounds reasonable enough, and you gesture to some nearby tools to indicate your intent.

Written by Joey Liverwurst

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