“So...”
Jasfoup waved a hand toward the press of demons and other entities,
all clamouring for attention from a calm looking sales assistant who
was managing to ignore all but the most persistent, the most
persistent being those few with tentacles who could therefore reach
the ten feet or so between the counter and the sales assistant. “We
accept that chaos is preferable to order and thus get on with the
business in hand.”
“How?”
Harold raised his shoulders and stood tall. He could see a little
further but it was still all scowling faces and backs. He let them
slump again. At least they seemed to have forgiven his request for
order, or ignored it. “We've been here ten minutes already and
nobody's been served. How can you get to the front of a queue that
doesn't move?”
“We can
wait.”
“I thought
the zombie problem was urgent?”
“It is,
obviously, but so is my phone.”
“We should find a way of speeding this up, though.”
“We don't
have to. We can always go back to the point we turned off the road
and resume our quest. Patience might be an undesirable virtue but
lounging about in a shop can be positively advantageous to the
pursuit of sloth.”
“But that
doesn't stop the taxi racking up the fare.”
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