Go shopping.

Armed with sunglasses, wide brimmed hats and an umbrella, hastily bought from the hotel gift shop, you and ****-Sook make your way to the Old Flower Market. Way back when, back in the Colonial days, the Old Flower Market sold just that, but nowadays, it's turned into a maze of stalls, selling all kinds of trinkets and accessories, snacks, tacky knick-knacks, and the occasional bouquet of flowers.

You and ****-Sook arrive at about lunch time, and wander around the floors, hopping from stall to stall, munching on some small squids on skewers, that have a sweet and nutty after-taste hiding under the charcoal smoke flavor, deciding to get your souvenir shopping out of the way. You get a handful of key-chains and a couple of ugly t-shirts, as well as a few more thoughtful gifts for your loved ones. And then you turn around.

You don't know how you missed it, but ****-Sook is laden with small plastic bags in her hands. She says that she bought gifts for all the girls back home, and a couple of things for her family in her home country. "Oh wait, wait, I got something for the two of us. Let me just find it. Hold these would you?" Without waiting for a response, she dumps her purchases into your arms and starts going through them. "No, no, no, why did I get this thing? Oh right, Holly. No, no, yes!"

What she pulls out, are a couple of small carved wooden figurines. One is a shapely female figure, with a wreath of flowers around her head, holding aloft a lump of something in one hand and a coconut in the other. The other figure is a very buff male, holding a deer over his shoulder and a spear in his hand. "These are supposed to be Thunsyn and Uius. The Mother of Earth and the Provider." ****-Sook explains, holding them up to you. You raise an eyebrow at her. "What? It's symbolism. Uius is you and Thunsyn is me. You... provide me with the means to live my life, and I... do motherly/wifely duties for you." Your response is a blank look and a tightening of your jaw, but she just waves you off. "It makes perfect sense. Now come on. I've got to find something for the manager. Where'd you find those shirts?" If your life was a sitcom, you'd look at the camera and wait out the canned laughter, before following after ****-Sook as she pushes through the crowd.

After another hour or so of shopping, you make your way back to the hotel to drop the stuff off, but an ominous rumbling from above stops you in your tracks. From the frantic movements of the people around you, you can guess what's coming your way.