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jma3m · 2 years ago

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wheres the body

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE

Izuku "Deku" Midoriya is missing and Katsuki is going to find him. Little does anyone know he's actually dead.

MONDAY

Izuku:

Sobbing is the only noise to be heard in the forest. It's desolate. Almost like the animals see Deku the same way he and the rest of the world see him. He’s been so tired. So done. He thought about asking for help. Things have been getting worse. But then he remembered that he was quirkless. Then he realized the “help” he would get being quirkless.

There’s a reason no one wants to help people like me. We’re a cancer to society. I would be doing the world a favor by ending it all now.

At this thought, his sobs get far louder and heavier. He tugs at his hair but that does nothing to comfort him. He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes as if he can plug his ducts and force himself to stop. He can’t. He hates this. He can only think of one way to make it stop. And it's the very thing that's brought him to his old childhood romp. He thought about doing it Kacchan’s way but knew if he did, Kacchan might get into trouble given the boy's wording earlier that day.

A small but vicious part of him wants to throw himself off a building just so that his childhood friend would be forced to live with it. To acknowledge his part in what he's about to do. He squashes that part of himself quickly though and feels disgusted with himself for ever having such a thought. And besides, he’d really prefer for his body to not traumatize some innocent bystander. Still audibly sobbing he stands up on shaky legs and with shaky hands, he ties the rope. Then with his shaky body, he forces the small stool he brought out from under his feet and dangles and sways with his final shaky breath.

Katsuki:

“Take a swan dive off the roof and pray you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life!”

Katsuki faces his ceiling and replays his vile words over and over. He regretted saying it the moment those words fell from his tongue.

Of course, I don’t actually want Deku to die! It just came out! He knows that. And it's not like he’s ever listened to any of my bullshit anyways. As badly as he wants to take those words back apologizing isn’t an option. The least I can do is back off. And with this thought, he closes his red eyes and sleeps peacefully.

Inko:

“1-1-0 what’s your emergency?” The operator's calm voice is met with hysterical crying and a frantic response.

“My *sob* my baby- my son! He is-isn’t home yet *sob* and-and I thought he may b-be out with fr-frie-*sob*-friends but i- he- he’s never gone this long an-*sob*-and he–”

“Okay, ma’am I’m going to ask you to breathe. I am going to file a missing persons report. We’ll find your son.” The green-haired woman stays on the phone and overloads the operator with information on her baby. Once the line is dead she leaves a message to her currently sleeping best friend and leaves the house to search. She thought briefly of staying in case he returned but decided to leave a note.

“If you see this Izuku call me. I'm worried. Love you, Mama.” She doesn't receive any calls that night.

TUESDAY

Katsuki:

The next day in class is quiet. Unnervingly quiet in Katsuki’s opinion. There's no incessant mumbling, no pathetic sobs, no taunts, no fighting. Nothing. It's normal. Until it isn’t. Where’s the nerd? He ignores the growing pit in his stomach. The unsettling quiet is disrupted by the annoying ringing that all classroom phones have.

“Bakugou. Grab your things and head to the office. Your mom’s here.” Huh? Shouldn’t the hag be at work? The fuck is she doing here for? He does as he’s told silently. The quiet has spread from environment to person. The walk to the office feels all too short as he’s wrapped up in the day's oddities.

Everything feels wrong. I guess it's just one of those days. He solidifies a scowl on his features and steels himself for whatever awaits him on the other side of that door. Mom never takes me outta school. Whatever's up is gonna be ugly. Nothing he imagined could have or would have prepared him for what he was faced with.

“Want ice cream, kiddo?”

What the hell is going on. She’s taking me out of school for ice cream? And she didn’t yell? Did she just ask nicely? And what’s with kiddo? It’s usually brat!

“Sure” Mitsuki smiles softly at her boy. This rattles him beyond anything else that’s bothered him today. Something seriously bad must have happened. The pit in his stomach widens.

Inko:

Crossing the threshold separating home from outside world, the formally bright woman doesn’t bother turning the lights on. Instead, she moves through the darkness and checks her phone. Nothing. She had searched all night long and yet still she turns up empty.

“Izuku? Are you home, honey?” She’s met with a static silence. Like the quiet is moving, spreading, and infecting. She comes down with it too. No longer are her cries loud and wrenching. She's far too tired to emote so wholeheartedly. Slouching near the couch on the floor, the most she can manage are quiet neverending tears. They are fat and hot as they fall and separate, covering her face. The small home feels all too large. Too quiet, too dark, too hollow, too lonely. She sits in it all until sleep takes its hold.

Katsuki:

Eyes wide, lungs unbreathing, heart pounding. “What?” He vaguely registers his ice cream melting in its cup as he finally manages a response. His parents give each other a sad look before responding.

“Izuku’s gone missing. After this we’re going to check on Auntie. We wanted to break the news to you before going over.” His dad places a supportive hand on his shoulder.

“Take a swan dive…” He wouldn’t. Would he? No way. He would never. Besides someone would have found his body! The useless fucker must have gotten himself lost or kidnapped or something!

“C’mon. Eat up.” his mother's words are short. To the point. But her voice and her eyes are filled with a softness that he never thought she was capable of. She’s feeling grateful to have her son.

Inko:

“Inko? Inko, wake up hon.” Mitsuki?

“How’d you get in?” My throat hurts.

“We knocked. But when you didn't answer we got worried and let ourselves in. You didn’t lock the door.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s get you up, yeah? The floor can’t be that comfortable. At least on to the couch.” Without responding she lets herself be supported by the married couple. Her dull eyes catch the youngest in the room. He looks a bit pale and his demeanor is far meeker than he’s supposed to be. He’s quiet.

“Masaru and I are gonna get lunch ready okay? You just relax.” With those words, the pair took to the kitchen. It's only then that she notices the grocery bags. They didn't have to go through all this trouble…

“Have a seat, Katsuki. You look drained.” The sounds from the kitchen make her feel better. It sounds like life. “Don’t worry. They’ll find him.” He does as he’s told without so much as a nod to the woman.

“I know you two haven’t always gotten along but that doesn’t mean you can’t care. I know you’re worried. And I know ‘Zuku’ll appreciate you being concerned for him. It’ll be okay.”

It will be okay. Honestly, I don’t think I'm saying this so much for Kat. More for myself. But I feel better. More certain. I can’t give up. The dead in her eyes is suddenly replaced with renewed resolve and fresh tears. She’s able to sob again. Doesn’t sound like an improvement but it makes her feel better. Katsuki awkwardly hugs the woman.

“Auntie. You listen real fucking close okay. I’ll find him. I swear I’m gonna find him and drag his ass back home.”

Inko supposes they’re both feeling determined now. Good. The Bakugous stayed with Inko that night. She appreciated the company.

WEDNESDAY

Katsuki:

School continues the next day just as quietly but far slower. Granted, he actually has to stay the entire day this time. It’s difficult for Katsuki to concentrate. How can he when his search officially starts today? The missing person flyers in his bag weigh on his mind like a ton of bricks. He looked yesterday with his dad. His mom went with Inko. They looked in pairs until dinner. Their goal for staying with Auntie is to make sure she’s taking care of herself. They think they should leave the looking to the police.

Once school is let out Katsuki begins to wander. Where would Deku be off to that would get him lost like this? In other words, he has no idea where to begin looking. It’s been so long since the two have had an actual conversation so, of course, he wouldn’t know where to look. There's a faraway crashing sound and a plume of smoke.

Heroes! Of course! If there's one thing I know about the shit nerd it’s his freaky obsession with heros! The jerk probably ran off to be a hero groupy or something! And so Katsuki runs toward the commotion. The scene is chaotic but not in an abnormal-I’m-in-imminent-danger way. Just a large crowd of people all trying to get a glimpse of the action. He pulls out one of the flyers and starts asking the crowd goers. He’s often met with two different responses. The first, an uninterested shake of the head as the person is in a hurry to get back to the fight and the second response is a pitiful expression and an apology. The former response pisses him off and the latter also pisses him off. He’s trying to find a missing kid. The least these losers can do is pay attention. And as for the others, he doesn't want or need their pity. Pity is for the weak and if there is one thing Katsuki refuses to be it’s weak.

The fight is over, the villain is captured, the crowd is starting to disperse, and still no sign of Deku. So he takes a big breath in and: “Deku!” No one calls back. Another breath. “Deku!” Nothing. Shit. This Place is gonna completely clear out. If he’s here I need to find him. Another breath. “M-Midoriya!” He pauses, waiting, expecting a small surprised “ Kacchan? ” Instead, he feels a heavy hand on his shoulder. Definitely not that puny green bean. He turns quickly to get the stranger's hand off of him.

“Heard you looking for a Midoriya?” Katsuki pauses. The man's expression is set like a brick wall. It’s cold, hard, and jagged looking. The gravel in his voice matches.

“Yeah. You seen this kid?” He holds the flyer up. This guy might be weird but if he has information on where he is then Katsuki can endure one conversation.

“Why ya looking for ‘im?” Ex-fucken-scuse-me that is none of your weird nosey bald business you–

“He’s missing. His mom’s been looking for him for two days. So you got any information on where he might be or not?!”

“Nah. I haven’t seen the kid in a while.” Katsuki has had quite enough of this conversation.

Stupid bastard pulling me along by a string just to be absolutely NO fucking help. Great!

“But I can help you find him.” Katsuki pauses, having trouble processing what he could possibly mean by that. “Quit staring and pass me that flyer in yer hand.” His eyes relax into a glare but he does what he’s told.

“This is mostly good. Get rid ‘a this here then email it to me. Here's my info.” Katsuki’s eyes focus first on where the man was pointing and then on the slip of paper being pushed at him.

“You always carry around paper with your email on it, old man?” The man in question only chuckles a little at the accusation. Perhaps even sheepishly. “And why the hell should we take that out. He is quirkless. HEY! And how the hell do you know the nerd, anyways?!”

“I’m a cameraman for Channel Four. Ran into him a ton while villain chasing. I only talked to the kid cause he pushed me outta the way of a blast. Had half a mind to yell at ‘im till I saw some of the damage that woulda been me. After that I let him do a few of those bystander reports. He’s a familiar and pleasant face in crowds like these.” Katsuki feels something almost warm in his chest at this. If he didn’t know any better he would think it was awe or respect. But it isn’t. So the idiot managed to help another idiot. Doesn’t mean anything! “Im not the only one either. He’s got a shit ton of support. Among cameramen at least. And as for deleting the quirkless bit, that’s because no one’s gonna take this search seriously if you tell ‘em he’s quirkless. Hell, the bastard cops probably already threw the case in the garbage. Figure he’s already dead in a ditch somewhere. That’s just how our sucky society is right now, kid. A person's worth is measured by something as insignificant as a quirk.” He’s a little taken aback by this. He’ll admit that he is a little bit impressed that the boys managed to make connections with not only this wacko but from the sounds of it most news crews. And yet that loser doesn’t have a single friend at school. Katsuki decides to latch on to the bit about quirkism.

“It’s not insignificant! Look at All Might! He’s got a great quirk and-”

“And All Might is part ‘a that lucky twenty-something-percent that gets to be a hero. The rest are regular people who aren’t even allowed to use their power anyways. But as soon as someone see’s that insignificant status that is required for any official documents it’s over. If you wanna save your friend, delete his quirk status.” He’s silent at this. He knows it’s true but it's difficult to think about. The only reason anyone tolerates him is his quirk. It’s the only reason his dumb extras hang around. He doesn’t care about them, doesn’t even like them. But it makes him uncomfortable knowing that they don’t really like him, that they aren’t really friends.

If that's the case then… Am I actually that much better? That different? Of course, the blonde pushes these thoughts away immediately. I am. And I always have been .

“Fine. I’ll fix it and send it to you or whatever. Then what? How are you supposed to help?” He snatches the contact information.

“I’m sending it to every local news station thats ran into the kid. That’s pretty much all of them. There’s people behind the scenes that’ll fight to push the story as hard as possible. He’s gonna be a big deal until he’s found.”

“You… said you villain chase?” His eyebrows raise in response. Katsuki doesn’t need verbal confirmation. “Can I come with you for the rest of today?” He found out in the news van that the man's name is Shin.

There was someone who was my friend before. Huh. The Nerd, Midoriya, was not at any of the other villain fights.

THURSDAY

Inko:

Turning on the news that morning left Inko with a lot of feelings. Hope, sadness, confusion. Lots of confusion. Why… how is Izuku on the news? Not only on the news but all over it! She glances at the youngest Bakugou. Their family won’t leave her alone. The four are taking turns. They would stay in the Midoriya household for a few days. Then when it was time to go home for showers and to sleep in their own beds, they drag the woman along with them and she stays at their house until it is time to go back and the whole thing starts over again. Once Marsuru and Mitsuki left for work and the house was quiet she brought up the news. Katsuki, who is getting ready for school, stops what he's doing to respond.

“He… He knew- knows a ton of them. The whoever’s that run things or whatever. I mean news crews. He met them while chasing villains like the danger-seeking idiot he is. But I guess it worked out this time.” And then he’s back to focusing on the day ahead of him and getting ready for school. They ended up leaving the house together. I want to see if the police have any new information.

Katsuki:

He’s still fucking missing. Fuck. Concentrating in class is still difficult but not as bad as yesterday for Katsuki. He sent the email last night with the new poster and sure enough, Izuku’s face was all over the T.V. that morning. Maybe that's why he can concentrate now. Because he has help with his search. He was once again faced with the reality that he was somewhat impressed that his nerd had managed to make such strong connections with various news crews. Because really who the hell else has connections like that? Now that the green-haired boy's face is famous he’s suddenly become the talk of the school. Some classmates would chuckle to themselves and comment something about him being hate-crimed. Others suddenly cared very much for the boy.

Quit your crying you attention whore. Last time you saw him you didn’t even know he had a name that wasn't Deku. He would love to snap at all of them but it would make him hypocritical. He had been an asshole to Midoriya too and now he was leading the search for the boy. Damn. I’m probably the biggest hypocrite here.

Class ends and he makes his way to the exit. Okay. The fuckin news guys are gonna handle the search at villain fights so… Where should I look now… Where else would he go… Merch shops! The nerd has a ton of hero merch in his room! Unless he bought it online… Doesn’t matter! Just look!

And off the explosive goes. He starts at the one closest to school. It’s filled to the brim with kids his age. A few times Katsuki thinks he might have found Midoriya but each time he is wrong. After a while he’s sure the boy isn’t here. He makes his way to the register with one of the posters in hand.

“Hey. You seen this kid?” For some reason, he’s feeling a little sick. He’s scared to get his hopes up.

“No. Sorry.” The nerves deflate a bit but it isn’t satisfying in the least.

“Can you put this up?”

“Sure.” and with that, he’s off to the next merch store. The process repeats three more times before he gets an idea. Or maybe more of a thought. He wouldn’t want to be caught by jackass classmates. Somewhere far enough that no one from school would be there but close enough to get there and home before his mom can worry. Would he spend money on the train for this? Or is there somewhere far enough but still within walking distance? For once Katsuki is faced with a terrible case of analysis paralysis. He really doesn't know where to go or what to do from this point. Stop being dumb and do something! He pulls out his phone:

Me: Where’d he get his All Might shit?

Auntie: Language. He likes a store in Naruhata. I’m not sure what specific store though.

Me: Thanks.

And with that Katsuki hops onto the first train to Naruhata. He has the monthly pass. Immediately upon getting off the train a shop catches his eye. There. It has to be this one ! He makes his way over to the shop. It’s small looking from the outside and smaller feeling on the inside. The owners seemed to have felt the need to cram as much merchandise as possible into the little building. Because of this Katsuki is having to squeeze between people and racks and displays. He is sure that the place is nearing its capacity if it hasn’t reached it already. How is a place so rinky-dinky and small so damn busy? It doesn’t matter really. No one in the shop or near it is Midoriya so once again he makes his way to the register.

“You seen him?” To the point as ever.

“That's Izuku! I usually see him on Mondays and Wednesdays. He didn’t come this week though. I- I saw on the news…” Katsuki Takes in the cashier's appearance. She has light brown hair. It's cut short enough to still be put into a small low ponytail and covering her forehead are bangs. Her eyes are big and chocolate brown. Whatever she has on for bottoms is hidden by the register station. At the mention of Midoriya, purple hyacinths burst from the styled brown. Flower quirk. Yeah. She looks like she'd have a flower quirk. She picks them off her scalp slowly and in thought, she begins to speak.

“He’s pretty much the only one who gives me any respect, you know?” Of course I know. He’s nothing if not nice and respectful of every damn person he comes across.

“I mean I work here for a reason! But so many of the people who come in here take one look at me and just know that I don’t belong. A lot of them try to prove it when they get to the register. Not Izuku though. When he comes in and we talk it’s never about him asserting his hero info over mine. He actually wants a conversation! And man does he know a thing or two about heroes! He’s a genius analysis! But I’m sure you know that already! I guess I’m rambling! Sorry…” In a way, the girl reminds Katsuki of Midoriya–

“Wait you call him Izuku? You were really that close?” He can’t help the spark of jealousy in his chest.

“Yeah- I mean Kind of- I mean he has been coming in and talking to me for the past like… Three years now. I think. It's like roughly three years.” It’s then that Katsuki realizes that while he has known the same boy for far longer, he spent that time creating a rift. And now he is starting to think about it and can’t quite understand why. He knows why he thought he was doing it.

Because the idiot was looking down on me. But then he remembers “Of course I know. He’s nothing if not nice and respectful of every damn person he comes across.” He can feel the conflicting thoughts manifesting in his body. Maybe I was wrong. After I find him I’ll talk to him. If he’s still looking down on me then he’s dead meat. If not then maybe we can be friends again.

“Can I have that poster? I’ll hang it up here. That way everyone’ll see it.” He hands it to her wordlessly and turns to leave.

“Wait!” He turns back around. “What's your name?” He pauses for a moment. Ever heard of stranger danger, moron? Then he remembers getting into Shin’s news van. Plus the nerd trusted her and it was fine.

“Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Call me Hana.” She hands him a freshly grown Daffodil with a small and sympathetic smile. What a lazy name. He takes the flower and leaves the shop with pinkening cheeks. He went to a few other merch shops in the area but the day ended the same as the others. No luck.

FRIDAY

Katsuki:

Another day has passed and Izuku still hasn’t been found. The determination that's been in Inko’s and Katsuki’s eyes has started to fade. Not fully gone but slowly re-dwindling. Auntie went to the station yesterday and even with his stupid-freckly-dumb-face all over the damn place, no one's seen him! Tough shit! So no one spotted him yet, it doesn't mean I get to just give up. All it means is he’s still out there waiting to be found.

The school day was over in the same quiet blur as always and before he knew what he was doing he found himself at the train station again. This time he rode to the beach. He walked on the sand following the line where land and salty water meet. The place stunk and was littered with junk. Just in front of him, he sees a group of four seagulls fighting over some moldy crust. What a shit-hole. But he continued his walk anyway. Continuing to take the steps he remembers from childhood. And there it is. The small patch of sand is free of debris and seagull fights. It’s a lonely clearing. The wind and cloud coverage serves to further Katsuki’s impression of the empty spot. No green eyes. No little brats either. No one. He sits there for a little while longer before heading back to the station.

Leaving the clouds behind him, this time he rides to their shared dream school. Here there isn’t a cloud in the sky. It’s huge… He can’t help but marvel at the place. This is where I’m meant to be.

“Hey, You can’t just loiter around here. Scram.” Why is Present Mic hanging on that hobo?

“I’m not loitering. A) I’m a future student so suck it. B) I’m looking for my fr-friend. He wants to be a hero more than anything so I thought he might’ve disappeared to here. You’ve probably seen him on the news or whatever but take this. He’s obsessed with heroes so if you see him do him a favor and send him home.” Do I get to call him that? Fuck it. He shoves the same stupid flyer at Present Mic. Katsuki's hands are immediately in his pockets and he’s quick to turn away and start for the station only to pause.

“And maybe tell the other heroes in the area or whatever” He continues his walk to the station again. The sun is just starting to set.

He passes his house. He passes The Midoriya house. He continues to the playground they used to play at together. A few little kids are running around and horsing around together. On the benches are a few parents. He pauses midstep towards the structure. What am I doing? He isn’t there. And so he maneuvers past the play structure to an all too familiar fence. While the fence is definitely old it's easy to see where the city fixed it after he exploded it when he was a kid. Still old but newer looking. That was the day when things between us really went downhill…

Katsuki climbs over the fence this time and starts his stroll through his former stomping grounds. He pushes the thick shrubbery away from himself while forcing his way down an overgrown path. He makes it to the river from his childhood, or what was left of it, slowly. The log he and his friends used to cross was broken and lying partially in the dried river bank. In place of the lively water he remembered, was barely a puddle. He continues his trek into the wood. The places that used to be theirs in a sense are the last places he can think to look. It’s why he went to their old beach spot and their shared dream school today as well. Looking at their relationship at the time of the freckled one's disappearance Katsuki fully expects to find absolutely no one here. Why the hell would he go somewhere significant to us when any real friendship between us died like ten fucking years ago? But he goes back to ducking under trees and pushing shrubbery anyways. Then he knocks into something.

Somethings? Did it feel like two? Katsuki hears the object or objects swaying as a result of him bumping into them. He first takes in the color. Dingy and dusty red shoes were sadly dangling in his eye line. Reluctantly, fearfully, and slowly he brings his gaze further up. He’s faced with a familiar uniform. It’s stretched and ripping like the body it had adorned put on sudden weight, no time to change. Then an almost familiar freckled face. The boy's face is discolored with how bloated it is and shiny as if he was sweaty and there's fluid leaking from his nose and mouth. Finally, his eyes landed on a familiar set of forest-like curls, darkened and smothered by grease and grime as they are.

There is no denying who this young boy is despite how badly Katsuki wishes he could. Hanging lifelessly in front of him was the very person he had been tirelessly searching for. His mouth opens to scream but as far as he can tell he makes no sound. He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead! Oh, fuck-shit-bitch, god dammit, what the fuck! What do I do?! He does the only thing a person can. He calls 1-1-0.

He mindlessly follows the operator's instructions.

“Okay. I’m sending officers your way right now. Get to where they can find you. I know this is hard for you but you're going to have to take them to your friend, okay?” He grunts. It's the only acknowledgment he can offer that he’s registered their instructions. The operator tries talking to Bakugou but he hangs up.

I know what I gotta do now so I don't need you to keep blabbering. He makes it to the fence before he breaks. He feels his throat closing up and he covers the sobbing coming from his mouth as his knees give out. I never wanted you to die! How the hell am I Supposed to tell auntie? He gives a particularly harsh cry at the thought of Inko Midoriya. Fuck. No. No time for the emotional bullshit. He does the best he can to get a grip and jumps the fence again to wait for the police on the street.

Nothing can help Izuku because he’s been dead for what looks like days. He can’t hope anymore. It’s over. He’s gone.

#angst #hurt/no comfort #bakugou angst #suicide #inko midoriya #mitsuki bakugou #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #masaru bakugou #inko and mitsuki are best friends #major character death #bnha

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hadrongospeltranscripts · 7 years ago

Text

Ep. 1- The Reluctant Hadronaut

[Rift sound effect.]

Electronic Voice: Hadron Gospel Hour

Dr. Oppenheimer: I do apologize for the makeshift accommodations here in the break room Mr. Wilkinson. I thought it might ease your transition into this insane world of cackling horror. And you were in pretty rough shape when I picked you up last night. Have considered my proposal?

Mike: Listen, uh, Doctor… Oppenheimer? Uh, I don’t know how many ways I can say this. I’m an IT guy. Who happens to write dialogue driven movies in my spare time. An IT guy with a splitting headache. Uh, did you even try Craigslist?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Oh, sure. “Scientist who caused incalculable damage to the space-time continuum seeks help creating podcast about he destruction his hubris has rained down on on all the inhabitants of the multiverse?” No. No, I have not placed that ad. But I’m sure you’re being too modest about your talents Mr. Wilkinson. May I call you Michael?

Mike: Uh, Well, I prefer Mike…

Dr. Oppenheimer: Michael it is. Michael, since the… event, I have been driven to catalogue and document the scenes I’ve seen through the rift— that bleeding mocking wound in space-time. I want— I need to share these tales with the world, Michael. To warn them of the perils that await those who would, like me, tinker with he very warp and weft of the multiverse’s gauzy fabric. And what better way to spread this terrible hadron gospel than…

Mike: To… create a podcast?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Precisely! Oh, and a tumblr. We’ll need to set up a tumblr. (pause) Trail mix?

Mike: No thanks. So, is that the reason for the Misfits makeup?

Dr. Oppenheimer: My… grieving mask, you mean. I have adopted the visage of death itself to honour the deaths that I have caused. So many lives, Michael, so many timelines ruined. Plus I think it looks cool (crunching sounds) Mm. Are you sure? It’s the only think in the vending machine without high fructose corn syrup.

Mike: Nope, I’m good. I mean, you kidnapped me from my bachelor party. On the eve of the most important day of my life. I’d just given what I thought was a very eloquent and moving speech about the power of friendship—

[Cutaway to Mike’s bachelor party.]

Mike: (clearly drunk) What’s important to me, is that— is not so much that, uh… it’s the value of the friendship that means good… It’s what everybody— and then, y’know, it means that you (indistinguishable mumbling) And then… I dunno, it’s— I—I do know. It’s good. It’s friend, it’s good. So here’s to… um… to y’know… and then, um, everybody friend good. And then— But the value, the value—

Partygoer: Attaboy Mike!

Mike: Is— is really what I mean to… So raise your glass and (mumbling) good frie— Fr-friendship good.

[End cutaway, back to the bunker]

Dr. Oppenheimer: (eating trail mix) Michael… When I saw you though the rift, your words moved me. I sensed in you something of a kindred spirit and I felt the celestial rush of synchronicity, like wind upon the water’s surface, for I too have lost a love. (theme song starts under his words) Here, look.

Mike: A gift receipt.

Dr. Oppenheimer: (paper rustling) Ah, oh no, sorry. Here.

Mike: Ooh, a wedding ring.

Dr. Oppenheimer: My wife, Esmerelda, was a brilliant physicist and my partner in the Hadron Project. She objected to the weaponization of the Hadron Effect, but I convinced her that the money, security, and yes, fame, would more than compensate for the grisly knowledge that our work would be used to such terrible ends. For the Hadron Weapon was designed not only to destroy its quarry, but to retroactively edit it out of existence as though it had never been! What a weapon, eh Michael? And what a paycheque! We could finally afford to move back into the downtown area and get one of those nice loft spaces. You know, with a café and a laundromat and little boutique shops on the ground floor.

Mike: Makes sense.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Total sense, Michael. We’d been living int he suburbs. Ever been to the suburbs, Michael? Scenic, but a special kind of purgatory.

Mike: And.. the Hadron Weapon was your ticket out.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Yes! Sadly, all of our dreams were for naught. I must have miscalculated somewhere along the way, for, during the first true test of the Hadron Weapon, something went horrible wrong. The weapon misfired, it gouged a rift through the very fabric of space-time; and Esmerelda, my wife, lost. Lost forever, with only this ring left behind. (ring box clicks closed) But enough of all this sadness! I didn’t bring you all this way to weep at you about my vaporized life partner, how about a tour of the lab! (theme music gets louder)

Intro: Hadron Gospel Hour! Written by Michael McQuilkin and Richard Wentworth. Starring Richard Wentworth, Michael McQuilkin, Lisa McQuilkin, Michael Atkinson, Vera Schränkung, and George Jack. With musical guests, Reindeer. Streaming and podcasting thanks to Afterbuzz TV and Acami Technologies. And now, the hour approaches! Hadron Gospel Hour!

[Theme song ends]

Dr. Oppenheimer: I do hope you can handle the shrieking horror of it all. Although, the decor is midcentury modern, so it’s not all that bad.

Mike: I’ll be honest with you: this is not a fun place to be hungover.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, it’s going to get much worse Michael. You may not unseen that which next assaults your eyes. Behold, the Hadron Rift!

[Large metal door opens. Rift sound.]

Mike: Oh my God… This can’t be real. It’s horrific. Broken buildings, strange situations, empty shopping malls. Comedies of error.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Terrible, I know. Coffee? A.S.H. LE (pronounced Ashley), two coffees please. How do you take yours, Michael?

Mike: Black, I guess. Who’re you talking—

Dr. Oppenheimer: Two coffees with cream and sugar, please A.S.H. LE.

Mike: Oh, but I’m lactose—

Dr. Oppenheimer: Cream and sugar, A.S.H. LE.

A.S.H. LE Of course, Doctor Oppenheimer. Two coffees with cream and sugar. (computer beeping noise)

Mike: (sigh) Aren’t they going to… materialize or something?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Ha, no. They’re in the coffee machine back in the break room. I’ll go get them. (footsteps leaving) This isn’t science fiction Michael!

[Metal door closes]

Mike: (muttering) Gonna wake up now any second Mike. (Out loud) Ashley, huh?

A.S.H. LE: What? What was that? Oh. (sigh) Short for “Automated Servitor Heuristic Lite Edition”. Dr. Oppenheimer and his wife had me custom built to assist in their work here in the lab. Hey, I am the lab. Programmer knows, I do more than any of the meat bags around here. You’re Mike?

Mike: Uh, yeah. Hey, he’s got a lot going on, doesn’t he?

A.S.H. LE: Oppenheimer? Oh yeah he does. Well, it’s nice to meet you Mike. If there’s anything you need, just ask. I am programmed to assist.

Mike: Well, actually, uh, could you make one of those coffees black, please?

A.S.H. LE: (computer beeping noise) Done.

Mike: Thanks. So what’s Oppenheimer’s deal other than being a bit of a drama queen?

A.S.H.LE: Ha. Oppenheimer’s deal is that he’s trapped here. Oh he can leave the lab, but only for short trips. He inevitably reappears right back here in the lab, in the exact spot where he was standing when the Hadron Event happened.

Mike: Like respawning in a video game. Huh, cool.

A.S.H. LE: Sure, cool. So anyway, he trapped here, in the lab. Forever. I mean, I’ve scanned him. No gene death, no aging, just me and Oppenheimer. Here in the lab. Forever. Fun, right?

Mike: Oof. Yeah, not at all appealing. But, A.S.H. LE, I could go back to my time, right? Back to uh… my… timeline?

A.S.H. LE: Of course. I recorded the exact temporal, spatial, parallel coordinates Oppenheimer had me extract you from.

Mike: Oh that’s amazing! But, what’d it mean when Oppenheimer said we’ve… we’ve both lost a love? Nothing happened in my timeline, right? (pause) A.S.H. LE? Nothing has happened, right?

A.S.H.LE: Mike, the Hadron Effect has been felt across all timelines, even yours. The dissonance is different in each timeline, but it has happened, or will happen, or is happening. Or in fact… all of the above. From our relative position—

Mike: Jesus, don’t be so quantum. Just tell me what happened… or is happening, or whatever.

A.S.H. LE: I shouldn’t, Mike.

Mike: But— but Beth, my friends. You said different. How different? Like… new Darren different or New Coke different?

A.S.H. LE: In your timeline? New Coke different.

Mike:(softly) Son of a—

A.S.H. LE: Listen Mike, Dr. Oppenheimer was trying to fix the rift, but he’s been… distracted lately. Obsessed with recording those scenes from the rift. His physiognomic scans are showing an overall decline into depression. Maybe you can… cheer him up, and get him back on track.

Mike: Cheer him up? I don’t think I could cheer me up right now.

A.S.H. LE: Well than maybe just… be his friend.

Mike: (sigh) Alright, I’ll try, but he’s not making it easy.

A.S.H. LE: I hear ya.

[metal door opens]

Dr. Oppenheimer: My ‘supercomputer’ messed up your coffee order, Michael, so I’m afraid I had to add your cream and sugar manually, sorry for the delay.

Mike: Thanks. Hey it’s, uh (gags) perfect.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, it’s not every man that can make manual coffee these days Michael.

Mike: So, hey, what’s this about a collection of uh, horrific videos?

Dr. Oppenheimer: My “Tales of the Hadron Rift”, you mean?

Mike: Uh, yeah. Yeah, what d��ya say, we should watch a few.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, yes. Yes, I suppose we should. A.S.H. LE, fire up the VTR!

Mike: Um, don’t you mean a VCR?

Dr. Oppenheimer: What? No, I said VTR. Video tape recorder. What’s wrong with that?

Mike: Nothing, I’ve just never heard that term before. They’re video cassette recorders. VCRs.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, this York’s model is plainly labelled VTR, so I don’t know how much clearer it could be than that. Plus, you use video tapes in them. The medium is magnetic tape, Michael.

Mike: Yeah, but the magnetic tape is encased in a video cassette. (sound of video cassette being picked up) See, look at this one, VCR.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well that’s just silly, VCR. Feh. A.S.H. LE, video tape one, please.

A.S.H. LE: (sigh) The tape was not rewound. Rewinding. (sound of tape being rewound) Tape rewound. Playing.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Ah, Michael, you’re in for a treat. Allow me to present to you, “Tales of the Hadron Rift”!

[Rift sound]

Mike: Hey, neat sound.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Thank you, A.S.H. LE and I composed it for our into. I rather like it.

[Rift sound]

[Rustling and dragging sounds. A sigh. Fridge door closes.]

Unnamed Character: Okay, he’s gone. So, first day in the fridge, huh. Nervous?

Nahoo: Uh, maybe a little.

Unnamed Character: Ah, don’t be. This job does itself once you get the hang of it. And the heath benefits are sweet.

Nahoo: So, how much of this is turning the light on and off? Cause it seems like that would be a really cool job.

Unnamed Character: What?! Jesus, they send you guys greener every year. We don’t do the goddamned light, kid.

Nahoo: Really? Aw, that’s too bad.

Unnamed Character: Well, get over it. There’s more important stuff to worry about. Like goddamn salmonella. Yeah, I know, sounds dramatic, but listen. The fridge is about eighty percent paper work, fifty percent meetings, and five percent getting the hell behind the olives when someone opens that door. And a little general mold and mildew containment. You’ll do fine, you got any… powerpoint experience?

Nahoo: Um… Unnamed Character: Access?

Nahoo: Well…

Unnamed Character: Word?

Nahoo: No.

Unnamed Character: Excel?

Nahoo: Well I consider myself slightly above average.

Unnamed Character: Jesus, do you even have a computer? How do you not know Word?

Nahoo: Well, I have trouble staying in my seat.

Unnamed Character: Okay, let’s switch gears a bit. Are you comfortable being alone?

Nahoo: What?

Unnamed Character: Well, there are extended periods of darkness in here and folks tend to get lost in their own thoughts. I just wanna make sure you’re comfortable with that. We’ve already lost too many men to the labyrinth of their own minds in here, so you gotta be careful. You ever considered taking your own life?

Nahoo: No! (pause) What’s that smell?

Unnamed Character: Oh yeah. Well, the giant who owns this box is going through a rough patch. Wife left him a while ago. That’s the last takeout order they got together. I don’t have the heart to get rid of it. Neither does he so, we live with it. And you will too if you wan to keep this job.

Nahoo: Oh. Uh, okay.

Unnamed Character: So, that’s the basics. Lemme introduce you to Larry, you’ll be relieving him. He’s been in here for a couple of years now, so cut him some slack. Larry, this is Nahoo, the new guy. I’ll let you guys get aquatinted.

Nahoo: Hey there, nice to meet ya!

Larry: Hmm.

Nahoo: So, um, what d’ya do at sing along time in here?

Larry: I haven’t sung for five years. Doesn’t mean anything anymore.

Nahoo: Well, I know a few tunes that we could—

Larry: This used to be a magical place, now it ain’t. A place where you’d lovingly store the foods you’d use to sustain your family and entertain your friends. Now it’s a morgue for food that doesn’t even know it’s already spoiled. Sad sacks who don’t know they’re already dead.

Nahoo: Oh.

Larry: You smoke?

Nahoo: No.

Larry: Hm. Well, we’re not supposed to, but part of me hope this whole place goes up. I know it’s scientifically impossible, but a guy’s gotta have something to hold onto, right? Well, let me show you around. So over here we got a bunch of food no one gives a damn about; some open cans of soda, unpackaged celery that’s so rubbery it would probably be more effective as a police baton, chunky peanut butter that, quite frankly, does not belong in here. I mean, how much time you buyin’?

Nahoo: What’s that, way back there?

Larry: Oh yeah, that. We call that the Shrine. Been here as long as I can remember, a bottle of French dressing. And I’m pretty sure that company went out of business.

Nahoo: So is this a seating area?

Larry: Nah, those are egg holders, if you can believe that. Once in a while some stray M&M’s will get trapped in there. When no one’s lookin’ I use ‘em as toilets, and trust me, kid, no one’s lookin’. Another relic from a long gone era that no one gives a damn about anymore. No one but Larry. And when Larry’s gone… That’s that I suppose.

Nahoo: Well, don’t you have any family?

Larry: I got a cousin that made it out to the Lawn a few years back. Got a commercial deal. I get a postcard now and then. Screw him. (pause) Well that’s my queue. Good luck kid, you’re up.

Nahoo: But— But what do I do?

Larry: You know, I used to ask myself that same question a lot. You know what the answer is? Doesn’t matter. I’m outta here, don’t disturb the surface of the Jello!

Nahoo: Wh-what? (exhale) It’s cold. Well. Maybe a song will warm me up. (Sings) Living a boy’s adventure tale… So many—

[Elephant trumpet, confused shouting]

[Rift sound]

[ProductCo theme start playing]

Product Announcer: Hold onto your hats… If you’re not excited about this product now… Get ready…

Rick: Alright, well I— I have to tell you about a wonderful new product that I just came across and it is… probably the best product that I’ve ever tried.

Mitch: Now look, I don’t usually pipe up about things like this, but I am just so over the moon with this product that I felt like I had to got to this forum and record my words in order to get them to you.

Product Announcer: An exciting new development in product technology…

Rick: I really love it, and I think you will too. For all the things that you would use this product for, you can use this particular product and not the other ones that are far inferior. I mean, I’ve tried ‘em all…

Product Announcer: Not convinced? Listen to some trusted personalities…

Rick: I’ve been using this product now for.. an unspecified amount of time, and I’ve gotta tell you, it has done some amazing things for me. It has changed the— the way that I use products.

Mitch: I had that similar need for this product, and thus I used it. So the results were… all positive, I promise you.

Product Announcer: Tonight, on a very special: your life just got better because of this product.

Rick: I tried all the other products that cover— that cover similar ground to this product, they don’t come close.

Mitch: My friends notice it, my… pets notice it. They notice that I am a changed man for the better. I’m pretty sure that you might have a very similar reaction.

Product Announcer: Get on board, this train’s leaving… for trusted productville…

Rick: You’ve come to rely on this company for so many things, they’re like a trusted family friend. If they’ve been around that long.

Mitch: You listen to me, you son of a bitch, if you think I came here to blow smoke up your ass, then, uhhh, I—I’ve got nothing else for you, my friend. Because you’re an ignorant person.

Rick: Don’t waffle about this, this is something you need to try! It’s so wonderful.

Product Announcer: I hunger…

A.S.H. LE: Video ended. Rewinding. (sound of tape being rewound)

Mike: Wow, uh, I had no idea the multiverse was so… dysfunctional.

Dr. Oppenheimer: That it is, Michael, a big old bag of it.

Mike: Hey, where’s the boys room, Oppenheimer, I need to send this coffee along to its final resting place. You do have bathrooms here, right?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Ha, of course. This lab may be stranded outside the space-time continuum, but we’re not savages. It’s down the hall and to the left.

[sound of footsteps]

Mike: (to himself) Somebody spiked my drink maybe? No, this feels to real. Peyote? No, it can’t be. I haven’t met Mescalito yet.

Cyrus: Ha!

Mike: Woah!

Cyrus: Mescalito, nice. You read Casteneda?

Mike: Who are you? Why are you sticking out of the wall? Jesus, are you okay?

Cyrus: Me, oh, I’m fine. For the most part. (pained grunt) I’m alright, just fused with the wall, name’s Cyrus.

Mike: Ummm, Mike.

Cyrus: Nice to meet you Mike! Say, could you do me a quick favour? My arms are, uhh, somewhere else, and my nose is real itchy. Do you think you could… you know, give it a little scratch? Just a quickie?

Mike: Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Just, uh. (scratching noise)

Cyrus: (scratching noise continue while he speaks) Aaaaaaaaah… That’s amazing. Oh man, thanks! The doc won’t do it, and it’s been years. Oh wow, I can’t over how much better that f— (pained grunt, scratching noise stops) It’s okay, I’m okay, just (pained grunt) the wall.

Mike: This happened in, ah, the accident?

Cyrus: Yep, I was mopping the hallway floors when it happened. Never seen anything like it. Weirdest feeling I’ve ever felt. Like being sliced down to the bone and pulled apart in a million different directions, and not in a fun way.

Mike: And you’ve been sticking out of this wall for… five years?

Cyrus: Has it been that long? It’s hard to keep track.

Mike: And, uh, the rest of you?

Cyrus: Well, that’s the thing. I can still feel the rest of me, but who the hell knows where it is. We thought it might be the next room, but A.S.H. LE scanned and I’m not there. The doc says it’s probably wedged in another timeline, weird right?

Mike: Yeah, that sound horrible.

Cyrus: You know what though? Could have been a lot worse. I could have been completely vaporized like the doc’s wife, or I could be unemployed. And I’ve been blessed with an experience most guys never have in their entire lifetime. Yeah… I’ve got it pretty good. (two pained grunts) Plus I’ve had a lot of quiet time to hang out and meditate. Recharge my qi. I’ve been trying to practice more mindfulness. Nothing worse than an unexamined life, am I right?

Mike: I guess. So, are there any more people around here I should know about? I don’t want anymore surprises…

Cyrus: Ha! Yeah, sorry about that man. Nah, it’s just me, the doc, and A.S.H. LE. Well, there was this guy, Greg, but he’s been gone for a while. Guy from tech support, rock and roll type, real slacker. Just took off one day, nobody knows where to. So, a Casteneda fan, huh?

Mike: Huh? Oh, right. Well… I read The Teachings of Don Juan when I was in high school.

Cyrus: Trippy stuff, huh?

Mike: Uh, yeah.

Cyrus: Cause you mentioned Mescalito back there and…

Mike: So I’m gonna go use the bathroom now… (footsteps)

Cyrus: Mike, wait, listen, I know we just met, but could I ask you another favour?

Mike: Uh, sure man. What d’you need?

Cyrus: Well, I’ve asked the doc about his a bunch of times, but he told me it’s impossible. (sigh) Maybe it is, I don’t know.

Mike: What, what’s up?

Cyrus: I’ve told you that it looks like my lower half is, er, somewhere else, right? Well I would really love to have my wallet back. It was— it is in my back pocket and there are lots of pictures of my family in there… Gosh, I’d really love to see ‘em again.

Mike: Hey, I’ll see what I can do, okay?

Cyrus: Oh man, that’d be amazing, thanks! I knew you were a good guy. Find the others, right man?

Mike: Absolutely.

A.S.H. LE: I just don’t think it’s a good idea to use the Rift and your personal restaurant take-out service.  Dr. Oppenheimer: But these ration packs are completely inedible! Tuna lozenges, quiche strips, partially de-fatted pork fatty tissue, a tube of Vienna sausage paste… I—I don’t think any of this is organic, A.S.H. LE. And dare we speculate at what proprietary blend of herbs and spices comprises this buffalo chicken flavoured sparkling beverage? I mean, nobody’s going Paleo in this lab, I can assure you of that! Egh, at lest in the Rift we’ve got a shot at buying non-GMO.

A.S.H. LE: The packs are perfectly nutritive, according to my data!

Dr. Oppenheimer: That’s easy for you to say. You get to dine on conditioned electric current, you’ve never tasted the joys of farm-to-table cuisine.

A.S.H. LE: Hm. Meat disgusts me anyway.

[metal door noise]

Mike: Hey, guys? We need to help Cyrus.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Who’s Cyrus?

Mike: The guy out there? In the wall? The guy who’s been out there in the wall for the last five years.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Oh, him. Absolutely not.

Mike: What?! What d’you mean? He’s a human being, Oppenheimer.

Dr. Oppenheimer: He’s nothing more than a decorative element. And an ugly on at that. He matches nothing, Michael.

Cyrus: (muffled) I can hear you guys, ya know.

Mike: Oppenheimer, you can’t be serious.

Dr. Oppenheimer: I am deadly serious, Michael, he completely clashes with the midcentury modern look of the lab. Listen, we have important work to do here.

Mike: Your podcast, you mean? Well, you can do it alone then. If you won’t help Cyrus, I’m out. A.S.H. LE, send me back. I don’t care if it is all New Coke back there, i—it’s better than working for this asshole.

Dr. Oppenheimer: New Coke? Now— now wait a minute! A.S.H LE Don’t you dare!

A.S.H. LE: I will do it, doctor.

Dr. Oppenheimer: But… But he’s— (sigh) Oh, alright. Okay, alright. If I help him you’ll stay?

Mike: Yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, okay then. Okay. I guess it’s been a while since we used a little science around here.

[rift noise]

Mike: Okay, I got the cheek swab from Cyrus, I had to assure him we wouldn’t share his information with any third parties. So what’s this… for exactly.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, Michael, it’s very simple really. A.S.H. LE will analyze Cyrus’ DNA and then we’ll attempt to find a match somewhere out there in the chaotic miasma of the rift. It should work, in theory. Michael, please hold the sample up a little higher.

Mike: Oh, yeah, sure. How’s that?

A.S.H. LE: Scanning… (computer beeping noise) Processing.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, what d’ya know. Impressive.

A.S.H. LE: Well, yeah.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Hm. Interesting. According to the display, Cyrus’ right arm is sticking out of the break room wall next to the vending machines. I’ve always thought that was one of those new, hip art shelves. Huh. I’ve been using it for my keys and gum wrappers.

Cyrus: Oh, that’s what that was?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Sorry!

Cyrus: No problem, Doc.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Now, let’s see. Hm. Ah yes. A.S.H. LE, magnify parallel coordinates 427548, 75285, 433859. Ah, good, good. Good! My friends, I believe we are looking at the exact location of Cyrus’ hindquarters! Give or take.

Cyrus: Really? Alright!

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, Michael, are you ready to visit Cyrus’ lower half and retrieve his family treasures?

Mike: (laughs, clears throat) Sure.

Dr. Oppenheimer: A.S.H. LE, open the Rift!

A.S.H. LE: Opening. (rift noise)

Mike: Be back in a flash Cyrus!

Cyrus: Good luck, fellas.

[Weird half rift, half groan sound as Mike and Oppenheimer leave]

A.S.H. LE: Humans.

Cyrus: I know, right!

[Rift noise]

Mike: Holy— It— it’s beautiful! The colours, the sounds!

Dr. Oppenheimer: Welcome to hyperspace, Michael, the space between worlds, the prima materia that our very realities are born of! Here in it’s raw, spectral glory.

Mike: Does it always take this long?

Dr. Oppenheimer: (whispering) Only the first time the audience hears it. (out loud) Now, ready yourself, I can feel us returning to our corporeal state!

[Thud]

Mike: Okay, this place it truly weird. I feel like I’m on the ass end of a Pop Rocks and Pixie Stix binge.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Yes, yes, some sort of crystalline world. Very odd. Even the air seems crisper somehow— Glad we can breath it, hadn’t check on that— Now, let’s find Cyrus’ uh… hindquarters. A.S.H. LE, how close are we?

A.S.H. LE: He’s approximately 4.2 kilometres north of your current location, about midway up the mountain.

Dr. Oppenheimer Excellent, thank you A.S.H.— Wait, the mountain? Couldn’t you have gotten us any closer?

A.S.H. LE: Hm. Let’s recap. I pinpointed Cyrus’ location in the multiverse using only a cheek swab, oh and the power of quantum computing. I transported the two of you to said location across the infinite multiverse through a highly unstable rift int he fabric of space-time. Did I forget anything? Oh yeah, you’re still alive, (Oppenheimer clears his throat) and able to communicate with me. But you’re right. I’m the asshole for making you two do a little light hiking. I feel like a complete failure. A.S.H. LE out.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, I… hm… I suppose we should get climbing then, Michael.

Mike: Sounds like a plan. Hey, how many miles is 4.2 kilometres?

[Rift sound]

Mike: (out of breath) That was… That was more than… 4.2 kilometres, wasn’t it?

Dr. Oppenheimer: (also out of breath) A.S.H. LE may be short tempered, but she is unerringly accurate about distances, Michael.

Mike: Yeah, sure. Of course, I didn’t mean to—

Dr. Oppenheimer: Sh sh, look, over there, jutting out of that outcropping of rock, do you see?

Mike: Hey, yeah. That’s gotta be Cyrus. Those are totally Earth slacks, right?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Totally. Well let’s get his items and be done with it. (walking sounds)

Mike: Okay, but wait a minute, what’s all that stuff around him. A bunch of, uh… are those candles?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Some arrangement of light generators, yes. Why, it almost looks like a… shrine. We’d better hurry and retrieve the wallet. (walking sounds) Okay, quickly Michael, I’ve never toughed this mana nd I don’t intend to start now.

Mike: Sheesh, what is your problem? Alright. (pause) There’s nothing in he— Ow! (kicking noise)

Dr. Oppenheimer: Hm. Must be and involuntary reflex, like with a horse. You’re obviously approaching him wrong. Here, let me tr— Oof! (kicking noise) You’re right, there’s no wallet there. Wait, do you think that someone could’ve… (footsteps) Oh. Oh my.

(Whenever the Crystalosians speak it’s normal words played over strange noises, as a non-diegetic translation)

Lady Rubalith: Who intrudes upon the sanctity of the Object of Prime Cosmological Significance? Explain your soft, puffy presence here, strangers.

Amethystar: High Zenith Lady Rubalith, perhaps they too are friends from the sky like the Object. Observe their meaty mien and their similar slacks.

Lady Rubalith: Yes, yes, perhaps you are right, Amethystar. You give wise counsel my old friend and advisor. So, why are you here, strangers? Well?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, this is awkward. A.S.H.LE, establish real time translation.

A.S.H.LE: You have attempted to access a feature that is not available in the lite edition. To unlock this feature, please visit the Umbra Digital website at h-t-t-p colon forward slash—

Dr. Oppenheimer: (frustrated grunt) Well, so much for that. Listen, friends. We only want to retrieve he belongings of our friend here.

[clanking noises]

Lady Rubalith: Cease your gesticulations, it is forbidden to gesture toward the object. Enough of this ineffectual parlay, guards, take these two meatlings to the Crystal Caves.

Dr. Oppenheimer: I told you this wasn’t worth it. Let’s run!

Mike: No, just… Hold on. I’ve been listening to these guys talk, let me try something. (speaking with weird intonation) Prime Object mean much to Crystal guys, yes?

Lady Rubalith: What?

Amethystar: He speaks the Crystal Tongue.

Lady Rubalith: Guards, stand down. (clanking) Impressive, meatling. What is the purpose of the visitation? Speak carefully, you address the Lady Rubalith, High Zenith of Crystalos.

Dr. Oppenheimer: What? What’s she saying, Michael?

Mike: I’m not an expert Oppenheimer, I… I think she want’s to know why we’re here.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Oh. Well, tell he we made a mistake and let’s be off. Cyrus and his wallet be damned.

Mike: You know I can’t do that. Hold on, let me try something. (weird intonation again) Oh High Mucky Muck Big Time Lady Rubalith, legs in wall am friend from up waist. Us promise wall friend top parts us come find pocket stuff, then bring back to wall friend and he have big happy. You can help, please?

Lady Rubalith: Friend? The Object of Prime Cosmological Significance is your friend?

Amethystar: Can it be?

Lady Rubalith: Silence. I require a moment. Very well meatling. Your words and your slacks ring true. And I taste in both you and your companion the flavour of deepest loss, a frequency of sorrow that rouses a crystalline compassion in the geometries of my heart. These are after all, only relics, and our Prime Object is only a meatling’s lower half. But what you seek is more substantial, is it not? I will grant you what you ask.

Mike: (still using that weird intonation) You am big good, big happy us thank.

Lady Rubalith: There is just one condition. I will whisper it into your fleshy, audio receptor.

Dr. Oppenheimer: What? What is it?

Mike: (weird intonation) Deal. (normal voice) They’re giving us the wallet.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Excellent! Let’s get it and go. I’ve spent enough time on this fools errand.

Mike: Okay, but she’s invited us to stay for the ritual. They’re celebrating the anniversary of the discovery of the Object of… well, Cyrus’ ass. It would be rude to leave so abruptly.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Nonsense, we’ve stayed too long already. Say good bye, Michael.

Mike: She said there’ll be food.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Food, you say?

[Rift noise.]

[Sounds of lots of talking in background]

Lady Rubalith: We welcome our guests, Mike and Oppenheimer, as we celebrate the appearance, so many eons ago, of the Object of Prime Cosmological Significance, now known for the ages as Lower Cyrus; and the return of his… artefacts to their rightful place.

Mike: Jeez, I really wish Cyrus coulda been here. Well, the rest of him, his head and torso. A—and his arms.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Smells wonderful. Excuse me sir, do you know, is this organic?

Crystalosian Man: Excuse me?

Lady Rubalith: And now, let us feast as we reflect not he wonders of the cosmos. A happy Life-day to all. Let the music begin.

Reindeer Band Member: Hey Crystalos, we’re Reindeer! Thanks for having us at your… Life-day celebration. This one’s from our new single, it’s called “Tony”. Boy no more You’re a grown up cat that makes All the birds In the neighbourhood sing it on When you move Like a panther in the sand Sniff around, you just grow on everyone Can’t you see The whole world awaits your smile On the prowl You will kill with a fire inside What you are Is an eating machine in a million creatures why Do I hold you So close to my heart Kill with a fire inside Kill with a fire inside Kill with a fire inside your heart When you move Like a panther in the sand

[Rift sound.]

A.S.H. LE: Tape ended. Rewinding. (rewinding noise)

Dr. Oppenheimer: Well, that was a particularly satisfying adventure, Michael. Thank you for forcing me into it.

Mike: Ha! Any time.

Dr. Oppenheimer: And it was actually quite nice to reunite, um…

Cyrus: (muffled) Cyrus!

Dr. Oppenheimer: Yes, Cyrus. It was nice to reunite Cyrus with he contents of his wallet. (to Cyrus) Your family seems very nice.

Cyrus: (muffled) Thanks, Doc! It’s good to have the old library card back, too.

Dr. Oppenheimer: (yawns) So, I suppose I’ll turn in. We’ve much more work to do not he morrow and all that climbing and rich Crystalosian food has worn me out.

Mike: Just one more thing though, Oppenheimer. Um… Lady Rubalith gave this to me at he feast. She told me I should give it to you when I got back, said it’s something you needed. Here.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Crystal box? Well, it’s beautiful, but I don’t see how— Oh, there’s some sort of luminescent particle inside. It’s— oh, huh! (sparkly noise)

Mike: Whoa, look out!

Dr. Oppenheimer: No no no, wait. I don’ t think it’s harmful. Look, it’s settling on my desk. On… Esmerelda’s ring. My goodness, (unclassifiable sci-fi noise) it’s shot into the Rift! A.S.H. LE what’s happening, what does this mean?

A.S.H. LE: Scanning and processing. (computer beeping noise) Two things. One: the Rift has just healed. By an infinitesimal degree, but still. And two: I’m getting a DNA reading from the ring.

Dr. Oppenheimer: But, what? Esmerelda! A.S.H. LE, did you get a full scan of the luminescent object?

A.S.H. LE: Of course.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Compare it with the DNA on the ring.

A.S.H. LE: It’s… a complete match, Dr. Oppenheimer.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Of course it is, A.S.H. LE, of course it is!

Mike: Wait, what?

Dr. Oppenheimer: It’s very simple Michael, so very simple! When the Hadron Event occurred, I thought my wife had been simply vaporized, but that’s not it at all! You know, that man in the hall, um…

Cyrus: (muffled) Cyrus.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Yes! How Cyrus’ body was fragmented and blasted throughout the multiverse in the accident? Well the same thing happened to Esmerelda, only because of her proximity tot he blast it happened in a much more complex and devastating fashion, but it’s essentially the same thing, Michael! And if my guess is right… Here, let me show you. A.S.H. LE, run the same sort of DNA scan on the rift that we did for Cyrus, this time using the DNA not he ring.

A.S.H. LE: Scanning. (computer beeping noise) Processing.

[Whoosh]

Mike: Woah, the power’s dipping.

A.S.H. LE: It’s alright. Processor maxed out. Switch to auxiliary power cells. (boot up noise) Processing complete. Rendering matches on multiverse display.

Dr. Oppenheimer: My god… It’s full of stars. She’s… She’s…

Mike: Everywhere. Nice reference by the way.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Thank you. Thank you, Mike. I’m gonna fix this then. All of it.

Mike: The Rift, how?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Yes, the Rift, Esmerelda, it’s all connected. Look at her there, scattered across the multiverse. Lady Rubalith, that marvellous crystal woman, she showed me how. (theme song starts playing) If I can find and recover all these bits I can do it! And bring back my beloved Esmerelda. I;m certain of it! I’ll of course return you to your timeline, you’ve been far too patient with me already. I think you’ve earned it.

Mike: Now wait a minute. I’m not going anywhere. Until the Rift is fixed… there’s not hope for my timeline, or Beth. At least now I can do something about it. There’s all sorts of weird worlds out there, filled with all sorts of weird creatures and, let’s face it, you’re not the greatest communicator.

Dr. Oppenheimer: Hm. True. You were very helpful with the Crystalosians. Welcome to the team.

Cyrus: Uh, guys? Speaking of those crystal folks… I, uh (pained grunt) I think they’re trying to (pained grunt) make a crystal offering…

Mike: Well, what’d say, doctor, ready to take a little trip?

Dr. Oppenheimer: Michael, I dare say that I am. A.S.H. LE, open the rift! This multiverse isn’t going to save itself.

A.S.H. LE: Opening. (Rift sound)

[Theme song gets louder.]

Credits: You just listed to Hadron Gospel Hour! Written by Richard Wentworth and Michael McQuilkin. With production assistance for Katie Falvey, Rebeka White, Tim Conway, Sam Cusac, and Kris Paukstys. For more information on Hardon Gospel Hour, or to download new episodes find us at hardongospelhour.com. Dowload, rate, and review us on iTunes, Stitcher, Tunein, Dogcatcher, or wherever fine podcasts are consumed. And be sure to join us next time for an all new episode of Hadron Gospel Hour!

[Theme song ends.]

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