Easter was supposed to be a wonderful time.

Too wonderful for the kind of task you’d been sentenced to tonight.

Ms. Keen had, as usual, sent you, Bassie, and a handful of other toons down the rickety elevator to collect ichor for her. It wasn’t anything unusual—dirty work was practically her specialty to hand out—but you couldn’t help but wonder what it would take for her to give you all a break. Especially on a holiday as bright and cheery as Easter.

The air down here was damp, and every motion of the crank made the old machine groan. Your arms burned as you struggled with the rusted red handle, muscles straining with each turn. You almost didn’t notice the timid presence standing just behind you.

“Hi.”

Bassie’s voice was soft, almost swallowed by the noise of the machinery. You glanced back just in time to see her digging into the wicker basket she knew as her head, pulling out small piece of candy wrapped in purple foil.

“It boosts extraction speed… if you want it.” She held it out with both hands, like an offering, her shy smile tugging nervously at the corners of her mouth.