Wednesday, June 21st -- Very, Very Early Morning
Dung had been
He'd wandered past the 'Sticks more than once to see what all the fuss was about and those people... Sickos, the whole lot o' them. Playing their kinky pirate dress-up games. In public no less.
Didn't even get an invite. I even have a stuffed parrot. Could have shown them how a real pirate dresses, they all got the look completely wrong.
Time to sulk later. Now there was money to be made.
Even though the streets were finally empty and darkness was everywhere, Dung still crept. The Wishing Well was sitting in the middle of a small park, plainly visible to anyone who might walk by, so Dung darted from his alley and dived to the ground behind the well. His black clothing helped him blend into the night. He had to readjust his stocking cap so that the ragged holes were actually over his eyes and the rest of his face was covered by the old material.
Within seconds several clamps and hooks where pulled from a heavy belt around his waist - long ropes trailing from them - and attached to the well. Dung had come prepared with his own hand made block and tackle system. Several times he'd sat on the edge of this well making a "wish" and he'd seen the glint of gold at the bottom. As far as he could tell there should be years and years worth of coins. A little plaque affixed to the stone base had a date listed for when well was dedicated but the date was mostly worn away.
The plan was to lower himself down and fill as many bags with coin as he could, shrinking the bags as needed, and then casting an illusion charm so that no one would realize the coins were missing until well after he'd left the area.
"Brilliant plan, if I do say so meself. And I do."
A very long time later, a black glove appeared over the side of the well. Soon after a very tired, smelly and slightly damp Dung hefted himself over the side, jingling softly.
He flopped over on the grass and stared up at the sky, a sly grin hidden behind his worn cap/mask. "Not a bad haul for a night's work. Not bad at all."
A black cat, its fur nearly the same shade as the night, appeared out of no where, landing on his chest with a hiss. Dung screeched like a little girl and rolled, both hands coming up to protect his face from the feline menace. When no further attack came he peeked between splayed fingers to find himself alone once more.
It didn't take a genius to realize that was his cue to leave. Quickly.