Being Steel, an interactive story/game part 9

Episode nine already of this weird and crazy interactive story/game, loosely based on my paintings.

Episode 8 was a succes with eight players choosing and deciding the direction of the soryline, so thank you very much to @felt.buzz, @deemarshall, @kaelci, @veryspider, @elainetheinsane, @chetnaag, @niko3d and @fraenk! I also sent a little SBD your way as you were coincidentally all the players who have been playing regularly! Double thanks it is, then!

And yes, everybody and anybody (except you lot of spambots) are still free to join and play along in this interactive story/game and this is how you can play: read the story and choose an option on how you think the story should continue in a comment. You may add three words that come to your mind in the comment - I try to include the given words as much as possible in the next episode. Feel free to upvote and/or resteem: it's much appreciated! Stay tuned for the next episode!

Read Episode 1 here.
Read Episode 2 here.
Read Episode 3 here.
Read Episode 4 here.
Read Episode 5 here.
Read Episode 6 here.
Read Episode 7 here.
Read Episode 8 here.

On the previous episode...
Option 1 (return to your hometown) got zero votes,
Option 2 (continue towards what seems to be a fleamarket) received a unanimous eight votes [wow!],

I received these words and will try to include as much as possible in this episode (appearing in bold): balderdash, smithereens, wobbling, Peter, Paul, Phineas, piping, cathedral, happy, slave, rubbish, superiority, free, rich, fake, ancient, trinket, grotesque, mysterious, courage, smuggling, mutants, illegal, 'rainbow unicorn kitten' 🌈🦄🐈

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Part Eight

My name's Chris P. Bacon, and in a previous life, I was known as Steel. In a nutshell, that previous life was fun but balderdash: I led a life of crime, until I met with a mysterious travelling freak-show. I petrified one of its stars, a grotesque Troll, by kissing him 'till mornin' light came, and collected his stony remains which were blown to smithereens. The freak-show kicked me out but provided me with my new identity. Life was good and I was happy. Until I arrived at what appeared to be a flea-market.

The second thing I noticed was how fake the flea-market seemed. The first thing I noticed though, was its desertedness: I seemed to be the only visitor and all the vendors stared at me with wobbling eyes, hoping to get rich from my fortune. I didn't have a dime on me, only my petrified Troll-remains, which these guys probably considered to be rubbish.

I passed the first few stalls silently, avoiding eye-contact as much as possible. I quickened my pace, glancing sideways and pretending to be interested in their trinkets until I suddenly bumped into a table. I swear it wasn't there before and the vendor had shoved it right in front of me. I was halted in my path and looked at the most ridiculous, colourful, eye-hurting stall, aptly called 'the rainbow unicorn kitten 🌈🦄🐈'. There was an ancient looking man behind a table filled with toys of rainbows, unicorns and kittens.

-"Hi, there, I'm Peter, how can I help ya?" he said.
-"Hi, I'm just... browsing," I replied, trying to find a way around his stall.
-"PAUL!" he shouted while he kept his eyes on me, "he's browsing!"
A man with a piping bag, squirting some goo into little cups, looked up and shouted back: "Browsing!? Who does 'e think 'e is?"
-"Dunno," Peter shouted back, "tell ya what, 'e sure got alot of courage comin 'ere!"
The man with the piping bag named Paul now got closer and spat in my face: "Browsing!?". I noticed the writing on his piping bag said "Unicorn", and some reddish substance dripped from its nozzle. "PHINEAS!", he yelled, while still gazing at me.
-"Ya, wot!?" I heard in the distance. A third man approached, looking ever so similar to the other two. He held a butcher's knife in one hand, his apron in rainbow-motif was covered in blood.
-"Browsing!?"
The other guys nodded.
-"Look 'ere, mate," Phineas said, slamming his cleaver between the rainbow-toys - slicing one clear in half. "This ain't no flea-market, right?"
-"Right," was all I could muster at this point.
-"You ain't seen nothing 'ere, right?"
-"Right."
-"So, what do you reckon this is?"
I hesitated.
-"C'mon!"
-"I think you're mutants, probably with a superiority complex, smuggling illegal slaves to freedom."
There was a moment of silence.
-"My, my, we got ourselves a clever one!" Peter hissed. "That's never 'appened before! What 're we gonna do, lads!?"

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Choose an option! Time to switch sides and choose what either Peter, Paul or Phineas would do:

OPTION 1: ... Peter didn't wait for an answer: he grabbed the cleaver off the table and in a mad frenzy aimed the knife at [... choose where Peter strikes!]
OPTION 2: ... Paul made the gesture. On his command, Peter and Phineas grabbed me, while Paul put the nozzle of his piping bag on my lips and squeezed its contents in my mouth. I got a lethal dose of minced Unicorn.
OPTION 3: ... Phineas broke into tears and cried: "Our game's over, lads. There's nothing we can do. We should praise and congratulate this man who has seen through our scheme."

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Make a comment with your choice! The options that gets the most votes will continue the story in a couple of days. Feel free to add three words, cathedral was the only one I couldn't fit in this time, sorry @veryspider!

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Edit: I've been writing for so long, I completely forgot to add a painting! But I don't have anything fitting anyway, so it's without art this time!