Mrs. Buttonwith wasn’t exactly what I’d been expecting when I set off to help the little old lady. For one, she wasn’t little. Standing at 195 cm, or six-and-a-half feet tall, she was what I tended to call intimidating.

Lady was shredded too. Her face was wrinkled and kind, but her body was all business, with bulging biceps and terrific calves all bared to light by the skin-tight half-leotard that she wore.

This was in complete contrast to her home. A turn-of-the-century model even in my era, her home reminded me of one of those little one-room school huts that you’d sometimes see in the rural USA. The places where my grandparents had to hike both ways uphill to get to.

It even had a chimney. The sort of faded orange and cracked gray stone with mortar jobs that had been popular in my hometown growing up.

The contrast between that quant little home and the woman now standing at the door before me was immense.

“Uh,” I stuttered, totally wordless for a change.

“Oh dearie, you are just in time for some tea and tricep extensions. Please, please, do come in.” The woman stepped aside, waving me through the door and into a living room covered in plastic-rubber mats, weight racks, and resistance bands. My eyes landed on one outlandish gym bro accessory to the next, uncomprehending. I forced myself to stop when I landed on the bottle of creatine.

Just when you thought you knew the world.

“Mrs. Buttonwith?” I asked. Figured I might have the wrong house. You know, despite the throbbing quest marker in the corner of my eye telling me that I was exactly where I needed to be.

“That’s me, dearie! My oh my aren’t you a handsome devil. I suppose you were sent by the agency for Fleas Mc’Cormick. But even if you are on the clock that doesn’t mean that you don’t have any time for some lifting. After all, lifting is life.”

I was, honestly, fascinated. And entertained. A huge smile spread across my face. This whole apocalypse around me really had its moments. And I was fortunate enough to be stuck in one of them.

“I’d like that, Mrs. Buttonwith.”

“Oh, that’s what I like to hear. Now, why don’t I go pour us some tea while you get ready for a world of hurt. Today is arms and chest day!” She chuckled, taking enormous strides into the kitchen to fetch us our refreshments. “No pain, no gain!”

After a cup of steaming and quite refreshing raspberry tea, we got into lifting. Time seemed to fly, memories of how the world used to be, and I just let life flow through me. After just a dozen minutes, I got a notification.

 

Secret Side-Quest Completed - Pleasing Mrs. Buttonwith

 

Your noble ways have brought joy to a generally lonely old woman’s life and karma has rewarded you. +1 to Luck.

 

Well. Wasn’t sure what Luck did. It wasn’t even listed on my character sheet.

I looked up into her face and saw her grinning at me. “It’s been years since anyone took time to work out with me. Even for this short bit. Thank you, sonny. Now, I know you’ve got work to do so don’t let me keep you. Fleas is out back, just use the porch door there. And come get me when he’s back down to earth. He’s so scared and I just can’t seem to reach him.”

Those last few words gave me a bit of pause. I regarded this ancient amazonian goddess, her muscles and height, and wondered just what the hell I had signed up for. I mean, I’d had my small little inklings that there might be more to it than meets the eye, but it’d already well blown past my expectations.

I made my way through her tiny kitchen, past cluttered mementoes of a hundred years of living, past a hatch in the floor that most definitely led to some horrid and disused basement, then finally stood before the door.

My heart quickened. This was it. Time to find out what constituted cat in a tree to this woman and find out why she wasn’t able to do anything about the situation.

I creaked open the door.

In the steadily fading light of the ending day I saw a cute little backyard. Lush, green grass, nicely trimmed. A flower garden. A vegetable garden. Even a white picket fence. Beyond that, though, rose the thick trunk of what I could only describe as the god of all willows. It’s crackly and constantly dying bark lay in peels at one side of its base, a series of gouges in the wood leading up to what I assumed was Fleas.

I poked my head back into the house.

“Is Fleas some sort of giant cyberlion?” I asked.

“Oh, yes, deary. Is he okay?” she answered.

Ha. Great. This was going to be fantastic. I walked out of the house, being sure to close the door tightly behind me in case things came to blows. Last thing I wanted was that amazonian coming to her cat’s aid while it was chewing on my arm. The whole thing screamed disaster to me and I was half-tempted to walk off.

But to be honest, Mrs. Buttonwith was rad as hell. And, somehow, that NPC in there had given me a +1 in luck. I was sure of it.

Alright. I was going to do this. Without killing the monster. Fleas looked down from the waving necrotic wood of the willow’s main branches and snarled at me.

“Hey there kitty! Kitty kitty kitty. Come on down, now. I’m your friend.”

I cast about my inventory screen, looking for some food. There was a bit of jerky that I thought might do the trick. I selected it and it appeared in my hand. The cat turned its head, showing me the shiny-chrome metal of its telescoping right eye. The single dot of a laser tracked over the armor on my chest, then zipped over to the piece of jerky.

“Yeah, that’s right kitty-cat. Got some meat here, just for you,” I said, keeping my voice calm and even. “Look at the meat. Come on. Jump on down. That’s a good kitty.”

The cat growled, peering up to my eyes, then back down to the meat. It was up the branches probably a good 450 centimeters (15 feet in Freedom Talk), and I was sure that I could climb up to it if push came to shove.

The problem was that I didn’t want to.

Fleas continued to growl and I continued to coax, starting to lose my calm as the minutes ticked on. Until I finally snapped.

“Goddamnit cat, get down here! This quest is supposed to be a gimme!” I shouted.

Fleas roared and leapt, a full-on death from above. Thinking fast, I juked sideways, letting the giant feline plow into the dirt where I’d been just seconds before.

“Good kitty. Happy kitty!” Fleas advanced, growling, eyes set on me. I tossed the jerky, but the damn cat didn’t even blink. There was fresher meat on the menu.

“Uh, Mrs. Buttonwith, I got your kitty!” I yelled. Damn it, why’d I close the door so tight again? Whatever it was, it had seemed like a good line-of-reasoning at the time.

Fleas stopped his advance and roared. I felt abnormal force blast through the air. Just five percent of my health, but I also saw the debuff Knock-Down flash through my vision and I knew that hadn’t been any ordinary roar. Fleas had a special attack!

It loped forward and pounced on top of me, clawing at my arms and chest. I struggled, managing to punch it in the throat. It felt like punching steel.

“Not like this,” I moaned, shaking my head, a metric ton of cyber lion tearing at me and licking my face. “This is not how I die!”

A realization swept over me, goosebumps rising on my arms. Fleas was licking my face?

I heard the door open and Mrs. Buttonwith scream a high-pitched quaver of delight.

“Oh heavens, you did it! And he likes you!”

Indeed, he did seem to like me. Not only that, but the saliva of his tongue seemed to be regenerating some of my wounds.

What a sadistic monster of a pet.

Fleas got off of me and padded over to Mrs. Buttonwith, stopping only to grab the bit of jerky off the ground before reaching her outstretched arms.

“Oh, who’s my nawty widdle putty-tat. That’s you! You’re a naughty kitty.”

I got up off the ground, staring in disbelief.

 

Quest Complete! Cat in tree

It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t painless, but it is done. You’ve more than earned your reward.

Reward: Plus 500 Reputation with Mrs. Buttonwith

 

I peered down at the ragged mess my forearms had been turned into. Dribs and drabs of ballistic gel now seeped through my clothes, from the chest area of my armor. I shuddered to think of what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been wearing it.

“Oh you dear,” Mrs. Buttonwith cooed. “You wonderful dear-hearted young man! Why don’t we get you inside and get you bandaged up? I have some of those hard candies the kids enjoy.”

Demon in disguise Fleas Mc’Cormick peered lazily at me, then licked his bloody muzzle as if to tell me exactly what would happen once I got into Mrs. Buttonwith’s apartment.

I gave the cat a wary once-over.

“As much as I’d love to, ma’am, unfortunately I can’t,” I told her.

“Is that so?” she said, turning. I half expected the cat to launch itself at me and claw my eyes out, or declare in a deep voice that the battle today was mine, but the war was far from over. Instead it just stared its imperious feline stare, then yawned.

“There’s a playground that needs me… I mean a bunch of kids.” That sounded all wrong. “Kids are in trouble.”

“But your arms! Why don’t you let my widdle Fweas fix you up. He must have been so scared.”

I pulled out a nano-healing patch and slapped it on the inside of my arm, where it struggled to stay in place atop the slippery scarlet of my blood. The incapacitating pain started roaring through me, and nearly had me on the ground by the time I got the second one in position to handle the other arm.

“Well, all right,” she said doubtfully, watching while I took a curbside seat and hissed at the pain of the healing patches. “You’re welcome back over here at any time, understand? Come visit an old lady, will you?”

“I’ll do that,” I lied. The only way I’d ever be back here was if that cat were found dead. That thing had gone from neutral to negative one thousand rating with me in the space of two minutes.