Astrid applies for a job as a goddess. Incomplete.
|“‘We don’t have a three headed dog, Dagur.’” “‘I’m not building a life-sized Hydra, Dagur.’” “‘Take the hammer and be Thor, Dagur.’” The man turned and shouted at the door behind him, “You have no soul, Hiccup,” before storming out.
Well, that was unexpected.
The Berk Summer Theater Project was hiring. Astrid needed a job, and one that didn’t require her to watch children or say “thank you, come again,” was attractive. She located the storefront and came in.
The main room was a welter of instant glue, gold belts, stuffed animals, and fabric tape. A plastic skeleton hung from the ceiling, scarves and shawls threaded through its rib cage, and a black wig hung down to its knees.