A part time job at the local magic shop was the perfect way to get some inspiration for her new book. Cynthia had always wanted to write a fantasy novel, but she just couldn't find where to start. The dusty old shop with all of its antique tomes and strange artifacts was bound to give her some ideas.
It had been three weeks since she started, and today was the first day that Cynthia was manning the shop on her own. The owner had left for the day, claiming some type of spiritual imbalance downtown required his attention.
Today was a slow day. After the boss left Cynthia only had one customer, who bought some incense so she could use the 'Customers Only' bathroom. Other than that - silence, which was actually fine by her. Once she finished dusting the shop, then frowning at how the dust seemed to immediately return, Cynthia set up her laptop and tried to write a chapter for her book.
After busily henpecking at the keys while typing out another uninspired paragraph Cynthia slammed her fist on the counter and buried her head in the keyboard. Her writer's block was immense. She could not conquer this beast!
What Cynthia didn't see was that her slam on the counter had knocked over a smooth metal cylinder from a nearby shelf. It rolled down the slightly tilted length of the shelf until it fell off the edge. It struck the shelf below, knocking the lid of the rune inscribed silver tube off as it tumbled top over end toward her huddled form.
*Smack*
Something hard hit Cynthia firmly in the back. She swore loudly as she stood up to see what was attacking her. Nothing and nobody presented itself. She was alone. Cynthia closed the lid of her laptop and took a step back from the counter, only to slip in something slick and loose her balance.
*Slam*
*Splat*
Cynthia groaned and tried to push herself to her knees, only to slip again. She looked around. Cynthia was covered in some clear blue liquid that was as slippery a lubricant as she had ever seen. As hard as she tried to get a purchase Cynthia just flailed on the ground further, getting covered in even more of the stuff.
After a few helpless minutes Cynthia managed to get herself to her feet. Her clothes were ruined, stained all the way through with the goo, which clung to everything it touched. She slowly made her way to the storage room in the back, remembering a few spare wizard robes or some such nonsense was stored in there.
As Cynthia closed the door to the storage room, she started to feel....