 Come play! connoisseur of comfort ❅ Crayola's Wibby Mrs Alex Turner ❅ Netflix and meow
It was something of a rare occurrence this term, but Max was actually in a good mood for once. As he left the dormitory and entered the Common Room, however, little did he know that the good mood was going to be short-lived. Hah.
He scanned the Common Room for the best place to do a spot of gobstone polishing and then made a beeline for the comfy seats by the window, drawstring bag clutched in his hand.
....... that's when disaster struck.
Coordination wasn't something he'd been blessed with and klutz should've been his middle name because next thing he knew, he was tripping over his own two feet. The drawstring bag flew from his hand and hit the floor and Max watched in horror as gobstones rolled everywhere. In every direction. Under the sofas, under the armchairs. Everywhere.
And that wasn't even the worst of it. These gobstones were old and prone to malfunctioning so they were basically teeny tiny grenades ready to squirt their foul-smelling liquid on anyone who got too close.
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