Tabbing Out

[Dave Strider]

The hot desert sun beat down upon the carapace of the Wayward Vagabond forcing beads of sweat to form on his forehead. Actually, what it even possible for him to sweat? In any case, the wanderer was in search of shelter and water. Long ago had his supply of Tab run out, the delicious pink liquid no longer giving him any more comfort in the oppressive sun.

Sand seemed to envelop the world, just like the one he had been on before meeting all the children who had helped save his life and rebuild his prosperous town. Oh, his precious Can Town, how he missed it. Eventually, he would hope to rebuild it, but for now, he needed to find somewhere safe to build. It had been a while since he spotted the speck in the distance, which had gradually turned into a line, then the appearance of buildings. Along with his journey, he had come across a few dangerous bandits, but luckily his carapace was strong enough that after beating him into the sand a bit, they became bored and left him alone.

As he came closer to the town, not as many raiders seem to be hanging around, with the horizon free of stirring dust clouds from revving engines. The tension of relief increased with each step the wanderer took, the sash that seemed to hold some forgotten word blowing slightly in the wind. The wanderer's bandaged wrappings that he used for clothing were well worn, with many of them barely holding on by threads.

Soon the town became larger and larger until finally it crept out of the horizon and presented itself to the Wayward Vagabond. A long sigh erupted from the creature, his chest billowing before returning to its normal size. Now, to see if he can scrounge around for some supplies.

Many of the buildings here were made from wood, some of it rotting but others seeming to have been built more recently. Around the corner of a house, he spotted a strange woman who seemed to be wielding a yellow beam that came from a ring. This world puzzled him and never ceased to test his patience. The others who wandered beside him seemed nonchalant, wearing large hats and free-flowing clothing. Speaking of clothing, he may need to get himself some new garb.

Heading to the nearest shop, he flipped around his backpack to access its contents. It was a tragedy, having to use his town to supply his needs, but it had to be done. Though the counter was a bit high for his tastes, the Wayward Vagabond stretched up and sat his bag in front of the shopkeep and waved his hands around a bit.

"Eh, looking to trade? Well, le'see what ye got for me here." 

The shopkeeper dug through the bag, pulling out the remnants of Can Town, a mess of empty metal cans.

"Tab eh, never liked the stuff myself, but this here aluminum might getcha a pretty penny, not too often do we get metal that isn't almost completely rusted to the core. New around these parts?"

The mayor nodded before adding a shrug. 

"Ah, still the same old shit to ye then? Not too uncommon for this place, lots of wanderer's and the like. Most folks come from similar pasts."

The merchant tossed the cans into a corner of misshapen metal. 

"Alright, how about ye grab yourself some wrappings and get a can or two of food. It ain't gonna be much and the cans won't be as shiny as the ones you brought me, but it'll keep ye going."

The mayor nodded before bringing everything to the counter. Along with what the shopkeep suggested, he managed to snag another label from one of the bottles on a shelf.

"Mayo? Not sure what you're asking. An 'R'? Must mean something to ye I guess. Yeah, here I got a marker for ye."

Without much hesitation the Wayward Vagabond added an 'R' to the label, stuffing it into his pack for when he changed his clothes.
 
"Alright little fella, and tell you what, I'll throw in a little something extra for ye for not being an ass as soon as you walked in. Happens too often these days."

The mayor looked at the merchant with curiosity as he reached below from behind the counter. A slight clink was heard before the man presented a thin but tall pink can of the drink he valued most. The dark hands of the wanderer slapped together on his own cheeks in delight as he reached for the can of Tab.

"Figured ye would appreciate it, never really liked them sweet fizzy drinks so I kept it to throw at any dickheads that tried to haggle me. Put it to good use, eh?" The merchant joked. "If ye need to change I got a room to the side here ye can use." 

With a nod the Wayward Vagabond scuttled across the wooden floor, avoiding the shelves of glass and tin before getting some privacy. Soon he emerged, full with his new wrappings and label of "MAYO R" draped across his chest. It felt good to be able to take care of himself. As he left the shop, he opened his can of Tab, keeping his mouth wide open as cracked it open, turned it over and let the fizzy pink juice flow down his throat.

"Stay alive little buddy!" The shopkeep called out as the Mayor waved back, stepping back into the heat of the sun.

Now that he was resupplied, it was time to earn some more money. Can Town had supplied their mayor with enough to keep the hope alive that they could someday return to their former glory, but without some hard earned cash, the treasury was bound to go bankrupt. The Mayor waddled over to the sheriff's office, looking for small jobs that he could easily do. The large and weather bulletin board held up many papers, most being bounties for skulking criminals in the area.

The Mayor tapped his chin, was there anything that didn't require fighting? Some seemed to be tournaments, challenges, or something that involved violence. Then, in the midst of it all, something mundane.

Construction assistance needed within the Town with No Name. No experience required. Please meet a construction manager with your interest in the southeastern part of town.

Perfect. 

The Mayor crunched the can of Tab and stashes it away in his bag, readying himself. Today, he would help rebuild this town and use the experience to make the future Can Town even better than ever. Off then, Wayward Vagabond went, seeking this new experience.