Regarding Sentient Fungi

DING! resonated the tabletop bell on Cid's counter in the Accessory shop, jolting him awake from his nap and fumbling to remove the newspaper from his panicked face, fearing he'd accidentally slept twelve hours past his lunch break again.

"What?! What is it?! I'm up!" he screamed without slowing to comprehend his situation or wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth.

But after sense returned to him, he froze mid-lurch in equal parts confusion and horror upon beholding the customer on the other side of his counter. It was a White Mushroom: that sort of dwarven Heartless that…well, honestly, no one really understood. They appeared exactly as they sounded and behaved exactly how they weren't supposed to. Where other Heartless were known for destroying entire worlds and devouring certain blood-pumping organs for hearty sustenance, these sorts were…a bit of an enigma in how pacifist they carried themselves.

Cid's second-nature instinct told him to reach for the massive Gatling gun he kept under his desk any time a Heartless appeared before him, but the sight of those curious golden eyes beneath that oversized, bulbous crimson cap and the nubby pale stumps it called arms busily patting the countertop as a bored or excited toddler would created a sort of disarming effect from this…customer? That's exactly what it was—a customer! The book on the counter and the small bag of munny next to it confirmed this.

After the initial shock of the situation—but none of the wariness—passed, Cid slowly, cautiously returned to his feet and peered over the counter, where he found that the White Mushroom attempting to conduct business with him stood on the shoulders of a Rare Truffle, a cerulean-colored kinsfolk of the White Mushroom sporting a bright yellow cap atop its black head. It was rumoured that the Truffles had a penchant for jumping up and down and rather enjoyed reaching great heights. It was a wonder, then, that this one apparently agreed to remain grounded while its Mushroom friend took to the top.

At a point, the topmost fungus ceased its light, rhythmic thumping on the counter and met Cid's awkward gaze. After a moment of silent staring, the Mushroom, never breaking the visual connection, emphatically tapped its nubby little hand three times against the book it had placed on the counter and was still waiting to pay for.

Flabbergasted, Cid drew back and sputtered, "Uh, yeah—sorry—sorry for the holdup." But the look of wild confusion in his eyes never passed, and he hardly believed what was happening was really happening.

He checked the price on the book and took the appropriate amount of munny from the purse, returning as much change as necessary and then sitting back in his chair again, forgetting his manners and staring just as bewilderingly at the Mushroom gathering its things. But the Mushroom remained for reasons yet unknown to Cid, and after another second or two of silence at the shop owner's surreal expense, the fungus pointed to something just out of Cid's line of sight, prompting a "Huh?" from the shop owner until he followed its direction. It was pointing to the register, indicating the freshly-printed receipt.

Cid jolted semi-upright again as he reached for the paper, "Oh! Sorry! Yeah…forgot about that."

He handed the little Heartless its receipt and it accordingly hopped off the Truffle's shoulders, materials in hand, and the pair departed for the shop's exit.

Professionalism prompted Cid to call, however waveringly, "Come…again…?"

The fungal pair turned and waved at him before the Truffle pushed the door open for the Mushroom, ringing the little bell that Cid curiously didn't hear on their way in, and they were gone just like that, their business concluded.

Words did not return to Cid so easily, nor did his will to be his usual Ciddy self. He only plopped back in his chair, eyes still wild and alarmed, and all energy deflated from his body.

"What in tarnation was that about…?"

At length, he redirected his bewildered gaze to the register, where his copy of the transaction's receipt still hung. With no other leads or inklings of desire, he reached a lethargic arm for the paper and then just as slothily brought the slip back within his cone of vision. The book the mushrooms had purchased was Anatomy and Expression: A Beginner's Guide to Interpretive Charades, Vol. 1.

He raised an eyebrow. "What on earth would they need something like that for?"

Some of the Mushrooms in the Deep Jungle were rather on fire, and some were tingly from lightning strikes, and some were frozen in blocks of ice, and others still were covered in bruises from repeated blunt trauma. But the important detail is that all were rather upset with the quality of their care, and none of the punishments inflicted on them corresponded with those they specifically desired.

By then, most of the violent outbursts of the heroes had been quenched by confusion and given way to befuddled rumination. …Most of the violent outbursts. Donald still conked a nearby Truffle on the head because its lack of being covered head-to-toe in welts was still deemed unsightly by the homicidal duck. But as for the others, Tarzan included, the lack of Heartless retaliation was disconcerting.

"Gawrsh," Goofy broke the silence, "do ya think we might be handlin' this wrong?"

Two dark vortices materialized before the heroes then, dispensing the Mushroom and the Truffle from Cid's Accessory shop. Neither were happy to see their brash aggressors again, and so the disgruntled Mushroom thrust the weighty tome into Sora's hands.