I’ll help you with this one, I can tell.”
The door to the basement opened, and a short middle-aged man stepped out. He was holding a large, leather filled sack. He stepped forward and took the wooden box out of the sack, revealing a saffron bowl. “This is made right here, it is as real as it gets!”
“Are you here for the soup or the saffron?”
“Saffron is important. Your daughter was kidnapped by some guy called Jabba. He will pay anything to retrieve her,” was the man’s only response.
“Jabba’s here to help, I’m here for the soup.”
The man nodded, a smile taking his lips. “And you are, right here on this floor. I’ll let you in.”
“Thanks,” said a young woman whose face was covered in dirt. “May I call you Ella? I thought I gave my name to my son.”
“Why don’t you call him E-l-l-l-y so we’ll be on the same page?” asked the old man smiling.
“You will,” she assured him. “And don’t forget your promise, because we are here for the soup.”
“I promise you that,” the old man said, taking the leather sack and handing it over. “We are just about done with the soup!”
“But I’m already in here!” Ella was still frustrated.
“Look, Ella, here’s a bit of help.”
Standing in front of Ella was a familiar face, a man whose face was covered in a thick moustache, a white moustache and a long bald head. The man looked just like the man who had kidnapped and sold her daughter and wife and his nephew. But the man was much longer, his body thicker than that of the one who had kidnapped Ella. He also wore a long purple cloak and a silver ring on his left hand, but it looked as if no one cared about anything anymore. Not even his guards.
“I’m the guy you were looking for, Jabba!” Jabba said. “If you will let me in to help you find Ella, I will tell you everything! I will even make your daughter my bride, to put her to good use.”
“What a joke, you can’t make a good wife,” Ella sc
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