Spidey continues: “You and I must talk. We must get to a compromise we will both agree to and your kids might get out of here alive. What do you think of that?”
Now, circumstances so work out that Redbeet is unwilling to give in to any of Spidey’s demands. She feels she must reverse luck to her advantage.
“I don’t like the tone of your voice,” Redbeet answers.
“Do you realise I’m adapting my voice to please you? Did you even notice how softly I’m speaking to you in order not to upset nor offend your sensitive nature?”
“This is precisely what concerns me, your smooth talking voice, shallow as anything. We must all get out of here alive, mustn’t we?” Redbeet retorts.
“I’ve come here to offer you a truce,” Spidey says, “knowing this isn’t going to be easy.”
“How could I trust you?”
“I know, I know, but consider this, Redbeet,” Spidey carries on in her flat-tone, not-to-be-trusted-voice, “the plan is that in a week’s time, we’re going to have you for dinner. I realise what this sounds like but wait, here comes the good part: I’m prepared to offer you a deal in which your entire family is set free, but first you must—”
“—there’s no must. I want to be able to leave this place with my children, untouched, unharmed and with a few of your lot to accompany us to the edge of the jungle and help us settle onto safe grounds.”
“You can’t even walk by yourself, how can you consider leaving this place?”
“By the end of this week, my children will be able to carry me out of here.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. Besides, your bast…, your children are at infant stage. In a week’s time, you’ll be very lucky if they can manage to feed themselves without your help, let alone lift you.”
To be continued…