The adjoining shopping center contained a menagerie of other businesses.
Closest was the pizza parlour, "Stronghold Sam's Pizzeria". Bryan frequented the place far less than he used to. After realizing the convenience and choice company at the local diner; the tacky, loosely medieval-themed pizzeria seemed lacking.
He glanced at the sign thoughtfully. The cartoon image of Stronghold Sam in his steel armour seemed to beckon him over with a four-fingered wave and a toothy grin.
Grimacing, Bryan looked past the pizza parlour. A second option stood in the form of a sizable establishment. Big blue letters proclaimed the title of "THRIFT CENTER" over a set of sliding doors and windows. Bryan had frequented the place many times in search of equipment he could scrounge for his at-home laboratory.
Dr. Thompson would never enter such a place, of that he was certain.
Remembering his predicament, Bryan checked on Thompson's position. He cursed, learning that the old man had found his glasses and was in the process of dusting them off meticulously.
Bryan had to act fast, or risk being discovered by the aging, yet perceptive, old scientist.
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