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Summary
"C'monnn, just a drop," Ragatha goads, clumsily setting the bottle on the console between them. It stands there, taunting Zooble, loudly and heinously pink.
With a deep breath, Zooble takes the bottle and squirts it into their larger eye.
Immediately: the stomach-swooping sensation of when an elevator drops into place at its destination, of jerking awake right before falling asleep. The world around Zooble dims for a moment like electricity dipping out during a thunderstorm, then comes back into startlingly sharp detail. Warmth radiates from their eye, slowly seeping into the rest of their body, turning their limbs from plastic to lead.
"Oh, that is good," they mumble, and Ragatha cheers.Zooble drives Ragatha home from work.