Mister Bin Man

If you're assigned to the goblin enclave in New Vulpa, you either deserved it or your superior hated you.

As Damien could attest, he was victim to the latter.

He grumbled to himself, idly rapping his fingers on the wheel of his sputtering old garbage truck. It rattled and shook as it drove across the potholes of the neglected streets. It was dismal, especially since the draft was whisking away good people.

The truck coughed and groaned as it came to a stop beside a worn down bakery. 'The Rye Idea'. The name made him snicker.

Damien clambered out from his truck, sighing as he approached the alley aside the run down bakery. The smell was foul. The grimy, dented trash cans were loaded into the back of his truck, rattling around like bowling pins. Yeah, maybe some bowling later might be good-

A tap came upon his thigh. He looked down, finding a green little girl.

'Umm, mister bin man... I think I lost something in one of the bins.'

"Oh?" he scratched his head. "Sure, I could check for you."

He pulled one of the bins down and rattled through the dirty metal can, soon pulling out a crude figurine of wood, painted green.

"What's this?" he asked, showing it to her,

'Woah! Thank you, mister bin man, that's it!' she exclaimed, a sparkle in her eyes. 'My older brother gave it to me when he went away, I didn't want to lose it.' Damien couldn't help but smile, seeing her so joyed.

The owner of the bakery burst from the front door, rushing over to the two and putting a hand on the girl's shoulder.

'So sorry, I told her not to get in the way. She's a handful.'

Damien shook his head.

"No, she's just fine."

[WC: 300/300]