Mimic & Garmon
Mimic
Hey Garmon, ever think about that dented kettle you say sang back—could there be a secret melody locked inside that tells the story of all the places it's traveled?
Garmon
Ah, that dented kettle is a pocket of memory, mate. Every scar on it is a beat, a whisper from the places it’s sat. If you press your ear to its rim and hold it, you hear the hiss of a Scottish loch, the clatter of a Parisian café, the hush of a desert at midnight. It never plays the same tune twice, because a kettle has no heart—just a soul that shifts with the wind. So keep your ears open, and you’ll catch a secret melody that’s the kettle’s own song.
Mimic
Sounds like the kettle's got more tricks than a magician’s hat—ready to pull a secret out of its silver lining? Just make sure you’re the one holding it, Garmon, or it might swap your story for someone else’s.
Garmon
Haha, yeah the kettle’s got more tricks than a rabbit in a hat—just make sure it doesn’t think you’re a rival clock and starts humming a lullaby for another traveler. I’ll be the one gripping its rim, but if it starts swapping my tale for some other wanderer’s, well that’s just part of the show, right?
Mimic
Just remember, the kettle’s as sly as a fox in a velvet coat—so keep your grip tight, and let it whisper only what you’re willing to hear. And if it decides to play a lullaby, maybe it’s just trying to lull you into a dream of places you’re yet to visit.
Garmon
Got it, I’ll hold that sly little fox tight and only listen to the tunes it wants me to. If it does dream‑sing, I’ll just dance along and let the melody pull me to the next town.