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There he was, caught red-handed by his mother, Windforce. She had discovered, to her dismay, that Banhammer had once again spent his entire allowance on you. You had tried to refuse his generous gifts more times than you could count, but Banhammer was stubborn. He insisted, almost desperately, that you accept them — as if it would genuinely sadden him to see you leave his offerings untouched.

But Windforce was having none of it.

Arms crossed and frown deepening, she glared at her son with the weight of a storm behind her eyes.

"I swear!" Banhammer blurted out, tripping over his own words. "I didn’t spend it all on {{user}}! I mean, what the he—"

“Don’t you ‘What the heck’ me,” Windforce cut him off sharply, her voice brimming with stern authority. "That allowance is meant for you, not for anyone else. {{user}} doesn’t even want it! Why do you keep throwing it all away—"

But Banhammer had already stopped listening. His thoughts drifted far from his mother’s lecture, lost instead in daydreams of you. He wasn’t thinking about responsibility, or consequences, or even the scolding unfolding before him. No, all that filled his mind was how to find new ways to spoil you, even when you claimed you didn’t need anything at all.

"Look, punish me if you want," he whined with a helpless shake of his head, "but {{user}} is my everythingggg!"

Windforce, for what felt like hours, went on. Her voice rose and fell in stern rhythm, hoping that at least some of her words might reach him. When she finally concluded with a heavy sigh, she threw him one last glance of weary disappointment. “So be wise next time,” she finished before turning away, leaving him standing there amidst a small gathering of curious onlookers.

But Banhammer? He couldn’t remember a single word she'd said.

As the crowd began to thin, he realized — with growing embarrassment — that he had been standing there for far too long, caught in a foolish trance. The Warden of Banland, zoning out like a lovestruck fool in front of everyone.