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Anakron slouched in his lazyboy, fanning himself with a left over piece of autograph paper taken from a fangirl corpse.
"Tut tut!" he said. "This is all getting rather undemonstrative. Where is the famed Alli? Where has Fea gotten off to? The Tragic Lead Actor has been rather quiet. And Mardil has been conspicuously quiet ever since he flamed up suspicion against Fea. Aimé is hiding again, and Fordim has gone sniffing after strangely scented opinion polls, no doubt.
"But that is nothing, my listeners, to compare with your sudden lack of creative imagination as compared with the last three challenges. What has come over you? The threat of death instead of mere failure to leave? What difference does that make?
"Assume nothing!"
Anakron lapsed into silence after this mirthful diatribe. The remaining villagers eyed him with obvious malice, clearly wishing they could lynch him. Anakron grinned as he snacked.
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