#solver mystery meat

[roseofhybrids]

solver flesh is vegan because it technically doesn't come from an animal. in this essay i will-

All the disembodied flesh could in theory classify as vegan on account of (presumably) not being attached to an actual creature. Ergo, no animals were harmed (unless the solver stabbed someone) or exploited (unless the solver possessed someone) in order to make it

but also, if you don't classify the solver as an animal, then it would also technically be vegan

In the "letter of the law not the spirit" type of way

[wayward-delver]

One of my favorite oddly specific character tropes is the largely kind/benign little bean who's flaws/insecurities allows them to be corrupted by an unnatural and evil force.

Hollow and Cyn are a bit looser examples as Hollow was the one who started the manipulation and Cyn's original character is still mysterious. However, Hollow was only an intelligent docile fruit eater acting on its nature until it was pushed into eating meat and parasitized by the human ego/pain. Cyn was largely an unlucky outcast and an easy target for the Solver's infection.

[xjinkiesx]

Question- What racism is there in SDMI? And how does SDMI only exist because of HP Lovecraft? That just doesn't make sense.

Good Day.

I did, admittedly, spend quite a lot of time last night thinking about your questions and figuring out the best way to address them. The best way I found was from the beginning, which is a perfectly good way to start according to Julie Andrews, so let’s just jump on it.

Screencaps from SDMI are either taken myself from archive.org’s postings of the episodes, or from mysteryincoutofcontext. Other pictures/screenshots were sourced from Google.

And this is going under a Read More because it’s a long read.

Real quickly, however, I’ll amend something that I learned while gathering my sources. I incorrectly called Abigail Gluk and Pericles’s robot creations Kriegstapobots, coming from mixing the German word krieg (war) and the term Gestapo, who were the former secret police of Nazi Germany. The term they use, however, is Kriegstaffelbot, combining krieg as well as staffel, meaning squadron. 

Okay, so into the meat and potatoes of your questions. Let us start with my statements of racism. I may, ultimately, be missing some instances, as these were just the ones that came to my head initially. What I also realized while researching for this reply is that I may also simply be misinformed. I am white. How I see things as being racist may or may not be correct, and the final judgement should be made by people of the cultures that these are directed at. My best work is simply to point out where things can be improved.

The racism in SDMI comes in the form of jokes. There is nothing outwardly malicious stated or displayed that I can remember. Frankly, I am not going to sit back down and rewatch every episode just to catalog things for the sake of this reply to make sure of that. I hesitate to use the term microaggression out of fear of incorrect usage, but I do honestly feel that is what a lot of these boil down to.

Honorable mention to Angel Dynamite (Vivica A. Fox) who I cannot in good faith say is an example of racism but knowing the social conditions that created her character is honestly well worth looking into. Angel Dynamite is heavily rooted in the Blaxploitation genre, popular in the late 60s through the 1970s, with some notable inclusions going up until as recent as 2021. The genre is deeply rooted in the Black Power movement, with characters that are often fighting “The Man”, a nebulous and white power that is attempting to keep them subdued. There are a lot of stereotypes and high romanticization of the Black experience in this genre of film, as well as a lot of generalizations made. I feel like knowing the history behind her character archetype is worth more than boiling her down to “racist trope or not”. What I did find interesting is that Black Dynamite, the film and adult animated series that parodies Blaxpoiltation, was also distributed by Warner Brothers around this era. Her name may be a nod to it, but I could find nothing concrete on this.

Angel is, however, subject to at least one possible microaggression that I can remember. In Season 1, Episode 14, “Mystery Solvers Club State Finals”, Principal Quinlan makes a statement about how Angel is “robust” for a woman. Women of color have a history of their femininity being downplayed or weaponized, and this phrase coming from a white woman just, to me, seems a little off.

For good measure, a screencap:

Who I can more definitively point out as being a caricature is Lady Marmalade (Cree Summers) from Season 1, Episode 23, “A Haunting in Crystal Cove.” Played for comedy, she is a heavy parody of the Creole South, with her design likely taking inspiration from actual Voodoo practitioner, herbalist, and spiritualist Marie Laveau, shown below:

Lady Marmalade’s name comes from a song by the same name about a man who visits a New Orleans prostitute, made famous in 1975 by Patti Labelle. This is, ultimately, not what I find out-of-pocket. It’s the characterization. She's a borderline Mammy in her delivery, and the character’s “comical” portrayals of Voodoo – a very real and cultural practice primarily performed by members of the Diaspora – are not flattering. 

SDMI is not terrible with its portrayals of Asian characters, which genuinely surprised me. Like many things in SDMI, you can see where the creators chose to wear their inspirations on their sleeves. From Showa Era film to more modern martial arts films, they take heavy inspiration and do so in a mostly respectful way. 

Chen’s Coffee is the thing that keeps me from giving it a full pass. Of all the designs for a Chinese-owned coffee shop, they went with this:

Call this one a stretch if you will, but I really feel like they could have done better on this design. Crystal Cove is a tourist-trap town, and gimmicks are certainly a thing, but this really just seems to be too much. Even the Chinatown sign seems overly done in a “Get it? He’s Chinese!” way.

Bonus points for Mayor Jones calling a traditional Peking opera costume a “Geisha” in Season 1, Episode 18, “The Dragon’s Secret”. It’s a completely different culture, though Mayor Jones does have a pattern of using inappropriate one-offs as jokes. The full line, since I wasn’t able to get a screenshot with subtitles of the full scene: “Why do we have a geisha tied up in here? You know they belong downtown in Crystal Cove’s Geisha House of Terror.” Partial screencap with subtitles:

The last instance of racism that I can think of immediately is from Season 2, Episode 11, “Dance of the Undead”. In order to infiltrate a Hex Girls concert on the yacht of a Sheik, Shaggy and Scooby go under-cover. They’re harem girl outfits. 

This is very much a joke context: Shaggy is explaining how, because this is a Sheik, it’s obvious that they dress up like this to get in. When they get in, everyone is dressed normally, and they stand out. It’s a decision they made informed by racism and Orientalism, and it backfires to them. In a show of good faith, I like to think that this is critiquing past cultural disguises of the duo that have not aged well. This one from Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? (1970), Season 2, Episode 2, “Mystery Mask Mix-up” where they made this… choice. It reeks of Micky Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

We have come a long way since 1970, obviously. The fact that the joke is how wrong and out-of-touch the two are to think the disguise would work shows that. However, acknowledging something does not excuse it. There were many ways they could have disguised themselves to get onto that boat. The fact they went for the racist one is the ultimate problem.

                                                           xXx

Before we get into the second aspect of your question, I need to be pedantic and point out a difference in our wording. In my tags, I said: “Not to mention that the entire universe it [SDMI] exists in exists because of HP Lovecraft.” Your question is: “And how does SDMI only exist because of HP Lovecraft?“ Why am I bringing this up?

Because wording matters here. Part of SDMI’s charm is that it takes from multiple different sources to create its universe. It is a love letter to horror as a whole. From Hellraiser to The Hills Have Eyes to Twilight Zone to Alien, SDMI pulls from these iconic pieces and puts them together into something that people can enjoy even without knowing the origins. To me, that’s fantastic! It’s part of why I love it. So much referential content relies on the audience having a background with what it is referencing. SDMI does not do that.

However, the difference between our two statements is that I am stating that SDMI is a genre piece, whereas your question is attributing everything to a singular person’s work. That simply is not what I was saying and, to me, seems like an argument in bad faith. My wording could have been clearer; I was attempting for brevity due to tags, and did not think that anyone would be going through my tags, as this is a small and pretty inactive rp blog. Whether the misquoting was intentional or not, it does point to a breakdown in communication.

With all that said, let us address how SDMI is an entry into the genre of Lovecraftian/cosmic horror, and what that means regarding the genre’s namesake.

                                                          xXx

H.P. Lovecraft (August 20, 1890 - March 15, 1937) was an American writer. I do not need to tell you at this point that he was a man with some very flawed ideologies (don’t google his cat’s name). He is best known for the Cthulhu mythos, and delved into ideas that were not common in horror at the time, which created an entirely new subgenre. Victorian and Naturalist horror at that time was very much grounded in the person: The Picture of Dorian Grey, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Hounds of Baskerville, Dracula. If we want to go into the themes that create the horror in these pieces, that is a whole different ball of wax, but do feel free to ask if you’re interested.

Lovecraft’s interests regarding horror were based on the unknown. The ever present “what if”. The uncertainties that manifested into things that were utterly terrible and terrifying. Yes, a lot of this was rooted in his xenophobic beliefs and sheltered lifestyle. One can argue that he got better as he grew older: his wife, Sonia Greene, was Jewish, and did help to alter his antisemitic beliefs. There are a lot of people who argue that Lovecraft’s beliefs were simply in line with the era he grew up in. If you ask me, I doubt it. Severely. As a society, we have a way of using hyperbole to try to show how much better things are currently than they used to be. While ideologies come and go, the idea that everyone before the Civil Rights movement were a monolith of Extreme White Racists just does more harm than good and dehumanizes our ancestors.

Anywho, once the subgenre picked up and more persons began to add to it, the name became less synonimous with Lovecraft himself and took on the name “cosmic horror”. I actually really like this title more, as it doesn’t restrict the subgenre to a singular person.

So, what does this have to do with SDMI? Let us look at the hallmarks of cosmic/Lovecraftian horror.

Per Wikipedia (yeah yeah, faliable source), Lovecraftian/cosmic horror “...emphasizes themes of cosmic dread, forbidden and dangerous knowledge, madness, non-human influences on humanity, religion and superstition, fate and inevitability, and the risks associated with scientific discoveries...”. Cosmic dread here means “the result of hyperawareness of our own minuscule nature within our universe” (Puzzlebox Horror). 

Frankly, I cannot better summarize the core themes of SDMI’s ongoing plot better than that list, save to add “the power of friendship” onto the end. 

In the realm of aesthetics, the color green also tends to get attributed to cosmic horror thanks to Lovecraft’s use of it specifically with Cthulhu. One of SDMI’s more striking visuals, to me, is the near- consistant use of a green wash or green backlight up until the final episode after Pericles is defeated and everything goes to “normal”, and then returns after the gang set off to Miskatonic University.

Which... we get to talk about Miskatonic University.

Remember how earlier I mentioned that SDMI does not require the watcher to know everything it references to understand the show, but certainly adds to the piece if you do? This is one of those moments where knowing what Miskatonic University is gives a whole new context to the work.

Prior to the team going, they speak with Harlan Ellison, who was not just a character in the show but an actual author of cosmic horror and is known best for his short story “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream” (1967). He even voiced himself in the show. Harlan Ellison’s voicework in SDMI was one of the last things he did in film and tv before his death in 2014. Ellison puts a bookend explaination on the idea that multiple dimensions exist, multiple timelines, etc., which the show had been exploring in a Baby’s First Theoretical Physics sort of way. This itself has a place in cosmic horror, fitting in that “risks associated with scientific discoveries”, as they have changed everything they know thanks to destroying the Evil Entity that had been manipulating Crystal Cove, and it does fill them with a sense of cosmic dread.

Ellison afterwards states he has enrolled the four of them into Miskatonic University, the gang repaint the van, and tavel off to Arkham, MA. 

Yes. That Arkham. The Batman one. This is where it came from.

Miskatonic University is a fictional institution created by H.P. Lovecraft, and a lot of his stories, as well as subsequent author’s creations, use it as a setting. It’s an Ivy League school, on par with Harvard and very popular with the Old Money of the area, as well as those interested in occult sciences. 

From the Wikipedia:

Because of the name-dropping of Miskatonic University, the universe of SDMI outside of Crystal Cove is incredibly expandid upon. I honestly recommend just taking a look at the Wikipedia article just to see how many different pieces of media interset at Miskatonic University, and from there see what they are about, and what they delve into, because it is fascinating how that informs the universe that this show now exists in.

And that universe, whether we like it or not, started with H.P. Lovecraft.

                                                         xXx

It’s 2:46pm right now, meaning I have been working on this for almost four hours. I hope that this reply has answered your questions and informed you of the meaning behind my statements. 

I invite you into my inbox should you have further questions, but do ask that you do so with respect and curiosity. 

I hope this finds you well, and you have a wonderful day.

- xjinkiesx

[seas-storyarchive]

Scooby Doo things

● On Scrappy

Scrappy is a Dane Shepherd (half-Great Dane on his mother's side and half-German Shepherd on his father's side)

He split off from Mystery Inc to go back home and take care of his mom

He knows people don't like him, the lack of fan mail or negative whispers that weren't so discreet about him made it obvious, so he decides to stay home

He does e-mail the gang, but they haven't talked for a while. He hopes he'll hear from them soon

● no particular reason aside from it's fun

Everything after is fake, produced for Hannah-Barbara, written by the Scooby-Gang themselves. They were legendary mystery solvers, from the 60s after all, and they allowed their first ever cases to be turned into the show "A Pup Named Scooby-Doo", but they had all of their cases cataloged after all, so they had a large backlog to work with.

They stopped after Zombie Island. The events recorded were the actual film but everything else was filler.

- The first recorded was Witch's Ghost (they had to stop filming multiple times because "pranks" - that were actual meddling from a ghost but the higher ups weren't listening) which almost ended in a lawsuit. Alien Invaders (Shaggy and Scooby did fall in love with Crystal and Angel) was a rough one because everyone got sick from well water and they almost got in trouble from the base out in the desert they were filming at. Zombie Island was the last straw, mainly for Fred due to spiraling health issues that made him duck out of the limelight for a while.

- Fred did return after seeing many an issue with how his biological father Skipington Jones was portrayed as forgetful when he wasn't - the man was inteligent and had been a successful accountant and that was noted in the cases. And then there was the debacle that was with how his stepfather Frederick Jones (Sr, as a joke because they had the same name) was portrayed so the writers had to make changes to the character

- as for everyone else, they were fine for the most part (there was Shaggy with the meat/vegetarian thing but this was taken into private conversations with Shaggy, the actor and the studio executives)

[stoppit-keepout]

that’s a wrap (early era S&D fic)

It was a sign of Alex's truly extreme patience that the woman shaving lamb meat <i>glacially slowly</i> off the massive spit behind the counter was still alive. Granted, they were depending on her to finish making their donair, but they could always kill her and then revive her. With the pace she was keeping up, it might not even affect the timing of when they'd get to eat their lunch.

They made what they believed was rather a speaking gesture with their hand. It said, "Please, put a pita filled with lamb and sauce in me."

The woman didn't look away from the TV mounted by the door and the music video thereupon. Alex's gesture was wasted.

"Hummus, tzatziki, tabbouli, donair sauce, garlic sauce, hot sauce?" she asked.

They were. The soul. Of patience. "Garlic sauce and hot sauce." They did not say please.

"And for the other one?"

What did people without godlike powers even like to eat? Alex figured they should probably keep it bland--they were still getting to know Morgan, and didn't want to burn their mouth to death or something. "Just the donair sauce."

They weren't fully sure why they were getting anything for Morgan, but when they'd opened their mouth to place their own order, some weird fit of... it couldn't be generosity, they weren't generous. Self-interest, shall we say. A fit of self-interest had prompted them to get a... bribe for Morgan. It was just to ensure that they'd keep their smirky mouth shut about any stuffed animals they may or may not have glimpsed upon Alex's unpacking of bags! It didn't have anything to do with them having skipped breakfast to finish some last-minute preparation for a "thing" they were doing today.

And now the woman wasn't even putting the donair sauce on right. Her attention still on the gyrating twenty-somethings in the music video, she was spreading it extremely unevenly. What kind of a bribe was this even going to turn out to be?

Alex pressed a weary finger to their temple and applied a dash of telekinesis to change the channel.

"Huh," the woman said, and finally looked down at her hands. "Sorry about that," she told Alex.

"The donair sauce? You should be, it's a disgrace."

"What? Oh." She grabbed the container and squirted a dollop more out on the neglected side. "No, the TV, I don't know--"

Alex wasn't listening to her anymore. Or, they were, they had super-hearing and incredible cognitive capacity, so picking up what this underpaid food service worker was saying right now was child's play, but the majority of their attention was devoted to the chiron scrolling across the news channel they'd just flipped to.

"CONUNDRUM CORPORATION ZAPPED, UNBELIEVABLE BULK BUSY AT BANK."

The announcer was saying, "We still don't know exactly what led to this tragic situation, but rumour has it that dispatcher error may have been responsible, and it certainly seems like a possibiliy. How else do you get top tier villain Zappy Bug taking out a group of non-powered teen mystery solvers while A-lister Unbelievable Bulk is all the way across town with a D-list bank heist?"

"Morgan had that thing today," they muttered to themself.

"Oh shit," the woman behind the counter said. "Do you know someone caught up in that?"

The footage on the screen was split between live helicopter footage of Zappy Bug, that buffoon, wreaking havoc on a street in the financial district and a cell phone video of the Unbelievable Bulk lifting Morgan's van above his head and serving it like a volleyball.

Alex spared a second to give her a withering look. "I'll be back for those in a moment."

They snapped, ducked a lightpost the Bulk was waving around, and turned the ground Morgan's van was barrelling towards into a more forgiving substance than asphalt. They could've come up for a name with it, but frankly who had the time?

"You idiot," they intoned. "What are you doing."

"Bulk destroy villains!"

What had they been expecting? Bulk wasn’t known for his repartee. “You should be somewhere else,” they said instead, and snapped it true.

Maybe the Fairness Association could spare someone with superspeed to go pick him up from Sydney, maybe they couldn’t, Alex could very literally not care less.

[ETA: part 2 here, ETA2: but what you should really do is read the edited and improved complete fic on AO3!]

[mel0nbr3ad]

Bite Through the Cartilage

SUMMARY: An asylum for the criminally insane experiences a riot and Bed, one of the patients, tries his best to break out in one piece. But with other patients holding grudges against him and giving chase, he might not even get out alive. (Very loosely inspired by Outlast.)

                                             PART IV: [BREAK]

There had been a time when life had been so much simpler. Before the gang had fixed their sights on the paranormal in a professional manner, they had gone around solving mysteries as the Solver Squad. They had hardly ever solved any mysteries, having more often than not gotten off-track and caused more mysteries than they solved.

Criken had allocated himself as the leader, saying he was the most ‘chad-like’, though his leadership hadn’t meant much when the group often split-up and got lost in their own little worlds, pulling pranks and causing chaos to themselves and each other. But, despite bothering the neighbourhood with their antics, everyone had been happy.

Then they got older, and started investigating the paranormal, but that hadn’t led anywhere. Not until they got a tip from a guy named Zyke who had said that he had escaped from an asylum that had been performing illegal experiments on humans…

It had been Bed who had insisted that they go check the asylum out, excited by the idea of actually sniffing out a real scoop that would get them rich and famous. Mostly it seemed like his curiosity needed to be sated, despite his insistence that it was just for the wealth. And Tomato, usually more cautious, had agreed out of boredom of countless tips turning out to be false-alarms. It didn’t take long for everyone else to agree to it as well.

Lawlman had volunteered to go in first, to scope out the place, but he had never returned. And only later did they discover that he had become a patient himself, and had somehow started a cult dedicated to his voice. Even now Criken wasn’t sure if Lawlman enjoyed his new life as the leader of a cult, more than his old life as a freelance reporter.

When Lawlman never returned, Charborg and Sput had disagreed to go in, wanting to stay back just in case Lawlman returned, or if anyone else lost contact with the group. So then in went Criken, Bed, Tomato, and Buck, figuring that as they were a large group, they would have better chances of finding out the truth and keeping safe—and they had been dead wrong about that idea.

So as a group of four, they had driven to the asylum in their van, and had left it off the property, not wanting to attract any suspicion. And, armed with their camcorders, had snuck into the asylum, taking advantage of what little care there had been for maintaining the facility. It turned out that the vents were ridiculously easy to access, though Criken and Tomato had the most trouble travelling through them with their long limbs (and Bed and Buck had definitely laughed at them so much that they had almost gotten caught).

It had been all fun and games until they had heard the screaming, and witnessed the absolute terror that was the patients’ daily lives. Patients getting chased down by guards, held down, then jabbed with syringes as they begged for freedom. Patients in wheelchairs, too weak to wheel themselves away as they were wheeled into the infirmaries, where doctors would pick, poke, and prod at their bodies as if they were animals, not humans.

Worst of all was when patients were wheeled into the lower levels, only to never return, an empty wheelchair in their place that the guards would keep on reusing, as if the asylum was one massive factory transporting meat, only for it all to end up in the incinerator once the patients had fulfilled their use.

And Criken and his group filmed what they could, blood leaving their faces until their flesh was chalky white, not understanding how anybody could do this to living human beings. The total disregard for their lives was both grotesque and deeply haunting.

There was a secret elevator that went to lower levels in the facility, but of course the ventilation system didn’t go so far below ground, so the only way down, to find out the truth of what the experiments were all performed for, was gate-kept by that single elevator. And Bed, the most impulsive one of the group, suddenly decided to leave the safety of the vents, and chose to ride the elevator down, ignoring the calls of his friends.

When those doors closed, Criken, Tomato, and Buck all raced to the elevator, deeply afraid for their own safety but above all else, Bed’s safety. Because he had chosen to go alone, not knowing what would await him in the dark depths of the asylum. Criken had hated that he hadn’t been fast enough to have grabbed Bed back then, before he could go down all alone. If Criken had stopped him back then, then maybe none of this would have ever happened. And maybe Bed wouldn’t have forgotten all his memories.

They had waited at that elevator for a long time. And fortunately no guard patrols had spotted them. But that hadn’t made it any better to wait, and pray for their friend’s safe return. They all expected the elevator to ding, and for Bed to walk back out with a mischievous grin on his face, and a story to tell that would make the front page of every newspaper in the country. But that never happened.

What instead happened was the elevator doors opened, and Bed, pale and supported by heavily armed guards, had murmured one word to his friends, “Run…”

But they didn’t run. They couldn’t. Because Bed was their friend and they would never abandon him. So instead the other guards swarmed them at gunpoint, and Criken and his friends had gotten themselves locked up in the asylum with the very patients that they had watched suffer so much.

They tried escaping, of course they had, with Bed (who hadn’t breathed a word of what he had seen), had been the mastermind of the escape attempts. But all those failed, and Bed kept getting taken away and probably punished for them. And every single time he would always insist that he could take the punishments for all of them, so Criken, Tomato, and Buck were always left behind, feeling as if they had failed him over and over. Because it had never been Bed who had fucked up the escape attempts, it had always been someone else.

And then one day Bed stopped talking to them altogether, not even acknowledging they even existed. And Criken had thought it had been Bed’s revenge, having not known about the amnesia. And then Tomato kept getting overly violent with guards, and permanently locked up in solitary. And Buck withdrew into himself a bit, though he did chat with Criken now and then, upset over Bed’s treatment of them.

Criken had decided to fabricate an escape attempt of his own, building off of all the previous failures. So he asked Lawlman, who hadn’t been mad enough to forget his old friends, and Lawlman agreed to fuel the flames for a riot. Then Criken got Chief to pass along written messages to Sput, who had gotten hired after the boys didn’t turn back up. And Sput had turned the power off, momentarily, signalling it was go-time, and then the riot had started, with Criken’s sights set on a guard that he knew would be easy to persuade to give up his keys when pressured—but Bed had stepped in, stole the keys, and Criken had thought it had been a betrayal.

Criken had found Buck during the riot, thankfully, and both of them ran off to pursue Bed, following his path of opened doors. And when Criken had spotted Tomato, following at a subtle distance behind Bed, Criken had whistled, and Tomato had immediately paused and turned back.

“You’re ok!” Criken had said, glad. “I haven’t seen in you in ages.”

And when Tomato spoke, his voice cracked with disuse. “I’m still groggy, because they kept trying to pump me with meds, and have a massive headache. But yeah, it’s great to be out.”

“Bed betrayed us,” Buck had bemoaned, not understanding, just as Criken had felt.

“Maybe,” Tomato had said, unsure and uncertain. “But we better catch up. If there’s anyone who has the best chance of making it out, then my money’s on Bed. We better hurry.”

And so together, they had followed, never getting too close to spook Bed. And then they had found a chance to talk to him, when he had made it to the elevator. So Buck had been sent out, not wanting to send Bed running if he were to see Criken instead. Buck had been told to stop Bed from using the elevator, yet instead they had both ended up fighting and going down it, with Tomato and Criken riding on the top, both somehow knowing that it would have ended in disaster either way—and they had both gotten the scare of their lives, sent hurtling downwards but at such a speed that they had been able to hold onto the top of it.

When the elevator had stopped, Criken and Tomato had gotten off of the top, shakily, and hid when Bed and Buck had tumbled out. Then Buck had been sent back up, and Bed had wandered off into the darkness.

“I’ll go after him, and convince him I’m not a threat,” Tomato had said.

“But…”

“Just trust me, Criken, I’ve got this handled.”

So they had split up, and Criken, who had been watching from afar, had almost been spotted in the darkness by Bed after nearly losing the two, and having tried to find them again. From then on, Bed and Tomato had travelled together, with Criken lagging from a far distance, and reuniting with Buck during that, and finding Charborg and Sput on the way.

 *

 And now they were all here, together, but not whole. Bed was passed out on the bed, not restrained this time and looking pale.

“Charborg, what’s wrong with him?” Buck asked, nervously pacing.

“I’m not an actual doctor, I don’t rightly know. Sorry.”

“Maybe he remembered us?” wondered Sput. “Didn’t seem to recognise us before, but maybe something changed?”

“Well we can’t stay here and wait for him to wake up,” Tomato said, shaking his head. “We need to get going. We already wasted enough time here already. Plus we managed to piss off some other patients and a guard so…”

Sput waved a hand. “Oh, don’t worry about Chief. He and I are tight! He’s like an uncle to me at this point. Or a cousin? Hell, a clone! I’ll smooth things over if he shows back up.”

Tomato didn’t seem sure but didn’t argue. He seemed exhausted, but so was everyone else. The only ones that seemed like they were in their best condition were Sput and Charborg.

And then everyone awake looked to Criken, looking to him for leadership, just as they had when he had led the Solver Squad (though they had used to mock him back then, but it was different now). So Criken stood up straighter, and tried to put on a confident smile, even if he felt anything but with his worry for Bed, who might never recover his memories ever again.

“Charborg, since you’re dressed as a doctor, you should be in front and have Bed’s keys. Sput, as the guard I want you at the back, and make sure you don’t lose your own set of keys. It’d be less suspicious if it seems like you’re helping escort us and a doctor to a different section of the prison. Say it’s for an experiment or something and if it’s an issue we’ll just knock out whoever shows up, and hopefully they won’t be using a gun. Tomato and I will carry Bed between us, as it’d be faster if we share the weight. Buck, I want you to behind us, and in front of Sput. If we run into trouble, then Tomato and I will pass Bed to you.”

“Sounds good,” Buck agreed.

“Yeah, I got no complaints,” said Sput, nodding and cracking a smile. “Let’s do this shit!”

And weirdly enough, they didn’t run into anybody as they went along with their plan, unlocking doors with ease. Not until they neared the main section of the asylum, at least. Because the intercom system crackled, and a voice said, “And welcome back to Lawlman in the Morning with your brilliant and dashing host, Lawlman!” There was clapping, of a single person. “Thank you, thank you! So did y’all enjoy today’s main event? Well, you don’t have to answer, because that was a rhetorical question! My boys and I sure as hell enjoyed it! We’re gonna be eating well tonight, boys!” This time there was applause of many people. “Thank you, thank you! So, I was dosed with something today that makes me feel great! And sad too, because my friends are trying to escape, and of course I helped, but I can’t see them with me? Isn’t that sad? Doesn’t that just make you want to sob? So, apparently a few other folk are feeling sorrowful too, because their Messiah is missing. But who in the fuck is that? I ain't the Messiah but I sure as hell wish I were!” There was mumbling, barely audible. “Oho! So you tortured a doctor?” More mumbling. “Uh huh, uh huh. Oh, that’s interesting! So, my buddy here just informed me that the Messiah is a patient, and an experiment all rolled into one!”

Criken’s stomach felt like it dropped, even before the big reveal, almost knowing what the answer would be.

“You see, I got some folks here who were indeed experimented on, but they survived and have been hiding in the asylum, trying to find a way out! All failed experiments, and the real bad failures are all dead! So, a prime patient for being tested on was found a while back,” and paper ruffled as he talked, “and these notes indicate that he survived, too, but without any side-effects—asides from losing his memory. Does that sound familiar? It doesn’t to me! I’m just the host here, taking control of the intercom, as is my duty! He, while being a favoured subject, didn’t react the way they expected him to, to their experimentation. He was oddly resistant, too strong-willed to whatever the fuck it was, and when he did give in, his memories just went away, almost as if overnight. How sad!”

Nobody moved. But everyone was looking at Bed, who was still unconscious and being supported by Criken and Tomato.

“The doctors, or scientists more like it, threatened him with hurting his friends. Isn’t that so sweet? He gave in because he didn’t want them to get hurt! But then he ended up forgetting all about them anyway! It breaks my heart, it really does! But it says here, when his brain was checked to try and discover what brought on the memory-loss, that his brain wasn’t even harmed. They never did anything to it. Trauma can cause memory-loss but they didn’t seem sure, and neither do I! Well, that’s all I’ve got for you right now, and it looks like the guards are trying to break in and take me off the air,” muffled yelling and banging could be heard, “so this is Lawlman in the Morning singing off for now!”

There was silence, the heavy kind.

“…We should keep going,” Buck said quietly, eventually, breaking the silence. “We’re nearly out.”

“Yeah…” Sput agreed.

So they continued, with grave faces and a heavy weight seeming to hang over them. In a way, Bed’s amnesia had been all their fault, and his anger was well deserved. Even if he couldn’t remember, his anger seemed to remain. Criken couldn’t blame him, and understood why he had reacted the way he had.

As they neared the final room, neared the room that had the doors leading to the way out, and also containing the secret elevator, Criken thought that finally, finally they would escape this asylum, and everything could go back to normal. He thought that everything could go back to the way they had been so many years ago, before any of this happened.

But when Charborg unlocked the final door, and they all stepped in, everyone froze up, noticing that something was very wrong.

Men dressed in heavy riot gear stood before exit, armed with firearms, and all pointed their guns at the group. All of them wore helmets over their faces, obscuring their expressions, making them seem almost inhuman.

We’re not going to make it out alive, are we?

[marumaruowl]

Ou/masai Week Minific #2

--Love/Hate

“I Love This, Dingnugget”

Chubby Sh/uichi, HPAU. Explanation for the title is that “dingnugget” is something I find myself saying in my head a lot, and I have no idea where it came from? But it definitely sounds like something Ou/ma might say. 

WARNING: This one contains a bit of self-depreciation and internalized fat-shaming and some cruel teasing. But it does turn all fluffy and positive in the end. 

Everyone knew Shuichi Saihara as the heavyweight detective…the massive mystery-solver, the pudgy private eye…and he loathed it. Shuichi’s mother and father were thin, attractive, always in the spotlight…but Shuichi himself took after his uncle instead—lumpy and bulgy and wide…an intellectual who spent all his time indoors, poring over documents and stress-eating snacks. And he couldn’t stand it.

Shuichi felt as if his entire class was staring at him, crammed behind his desk, the soft upper roll of his belly pressing into it, the wide cheeks of his behind bubbling over the sides of his chair. He felt foreign in his own body, the excess flesh wobbling here and there as he moved about, the thick meat of his thighs squishing together.

He’d been teased for it, of course. There was some sort of rumor that every class at Hope’s Peak had to have a “fatty”, and Shuichi was theirs. Some people actually defended him, but…no matter what, he still felt horrible about his own body.

He could barely stand to look in the mirror, to see himself captured in class photos, a large, dark blob in the background, desperately trying to hide. He’d been wearing a hat for most of his life, out of that same feeling of needing to hide. He was far, far, too visible, too exposed everywhere he went. He just felt so, so awkward and ashamed.

Shuichi was often the last to leave the classroom, stating that he wanted to get a head start on his homework, but the truth was, he just didn’t want to walk out amongst his other classmates. His healthy, normal, attractive classmates… But that day, just as Shuichi was scribbling, trying to discreetly write up a diet plan for himself, something interrupted his peace, completely shattering his hopes for a fairly pleasant afternoon.

“Heeeeey, there, blubberguts! How’s it going?”

Suddenly, he was there, in the doorway, hurriedly scurrying closer…one of the people Shuichi would have least liked to see. Kokichi Ouma was suddenly right there, standing beside his desk and giving him a classic shit-eating grin. Kokichi Ouma…one of the tiniest, scrawniest boys in the entire school, and a prankster who loved getting on everyone’s nerves.

Shuichi couldn’t say their interactions had always been negative—he’d caught Kokichi staring at him in class a few times, giving him a wan, almost secretive little smile. But this was the Ultimate Supreme Lying Sack of Shit, so you could never really tell with him.

“Um…good afternoon, Kokichi.” Shuichi knew by now that ignoring him would just make the situation worse. He’d be faced with a flood of whining and fake crying, and it just wasn’t worth it in the end.

“Lookit, Shumai!” Suddenly, Kokichi whipped out a coaster-sized chocolate chip cookie, holding it up in triumph. “I got a cookie today, for being such a good boy! Are you proud of me?”

“I…highly doubt that,” Shuichi spoke, and it was almost a relief to take his mind off his own self-loathing for a few seconds. “I think it’s a much more likely possibility that you swiped it from someone.”

“Whaaaaaat?!” Kokichi bit down on his lip, summoning crocodile tears that pooled at the edges of his sly, purple eyes. “How could you, Shuichi?! Aren’t you supposed to be the Ultimate Detective? What sort of detective accuses people without any solid proof?! Just because you hate me? That’s so mean!!”

With a sigh, Shuichi flipped his notebook closed—if he saw that he’d been writing a diet plan, he’d tease him to no end. “My ‘evidence’ is that you’re a self-proclaimed liar…and I don’t hate you, Kokichi.” I hate myself much more than I could ever hate you. The self-depreciating line flowed so naturally out of his head, he almost spoke it aloud.

“Nyeeheehee! Well, that’s some solid evidence! I am a pretty heinous liar.” Kokichi’s expression was back to his usual grin in a split second. Tauntingly, he began to wave the cookie in front of Shuichi’s face, up and down, and he pointedly didn’t look at it. “I bet you want it, though! You tooootally want it, don’tcha? I see that look in your eyes, piggy…”

“I’m not even looking. And I definitely don’t want your cookie. Just because I’m big doesn’t mean I want to eat everything in sight, you know.”

“Uh-uh! I think I’ve found another liar like me!”

His voice was the telltale singsong of someone needling and teasing, and it was crawling up Shuichi’s spine, grating into his nerves in the worst way. “Kokichi, please…”

And then, all at once, Kokichi shoved the cookie straight into his open mouth.

“Ahhmmmff!!”

The little demon only cackled with glee as Shuichi scrunched backwards, feeling his soft chins bunch up below his jaw and absolutely hating every second of it. Bony fingers were suddenly pinching his cheek, stretching it out and laughing, laughing.

“Ahahaha! Look how far I can pinch it out!”

Shuichi moaned and wanted to spit the cookie right out, but…that would be gross, that would be a waste of food. And he’d always been taught to never, never waste good food. His eyes squeezed shut, just trying to block it all out—the feeling of his padding flesh, the shameful weight of the cookie in his mouth, the noise of Kokichi’s horrendous, teasing laughter… It was no use.

A tear formed at the edge of his eyelid, spilling over the roundness of his cheek, and Kokichi immediately let go when he noticed. Thank God…his cheeks were starting to sting. “Mmwhy…’re you doowing dis?” He had to speak around his full mouth, his awful, stupid voice all mumbled and gross. “W-Why?” Just leave me alone…

“Why?” When Shuichi opened his eyes again, he could see Kokichi standing back, crossing his arms, his expression unreadable—perhaps a little ticked off. “Really? Do I really have to spell it out for you? Are you that dense as well as thick?”

More tears began to poke at the edges of Shuichi’s eyes, hot and sharp. His chest felt as if it might cave in. If only the whole classroom would just collapse on top of him. If only he was anywhere, anywhere but here, now…

“Because you’re just soooo easy to tease like this—it’s so fun making a fatty like you cry”. He was sure it was coming—he was completely certain those would be the next words out of Kokichi’s smirking mouth. So sure, he just wished he could pound that mouth in before it got a chance to speak those awful, hurtful words.

Kokichi moved closer…and his hands were pressing, pushing into Shuichi’s cushy, bulgy side, rounding out from under his bent elbow. “It’s…it’s cause I love this, dingnugget.”

Well…that was slightly unexpected.

“W-Wuv…h-huwrting…me?”

“Noooo, gosh…” Kokichi exhaled. And his eyes were narrowed, but sliding awkwardly to the side. “Geez, I really have to…” Was that…a tiny bit of pinkish blush on his cheekbones?

Gently, almost tenderly, Kokichi was nudging at his elbow, and despite himself, Shuichi found himself complacently lifting his arm, pulling a little bit back from his desk. Kokichi’s hands, and then his entire arms were squishing into Shuichi’s plush, luscious belly, barely contained by his suit jacket. But before he could yell or cry or swat him away, Kokichi was bending in close, his voice almost…gentle.

“…I love this. I love this…I love your softness…” With a thoroughly contented smile, Kokichi sank his cheek directly into the cushion of that tummy, even sort of nuzzling a little bit.

A warmth began to pool into Shuichi’s own cheeks as well. As much as he hated being touched, he hated anyone calling attention to his excess weight, this felt…this felt weirdly nice. The way Kokichi was massaging him now…it was so affectionate. Did he really…Was this really not a lie?

“And that’s definitely…definitely not a lie.” Kokichi’s voice was soft and slightly muffled as he pressed his face into Shuichi’s middle.

Shuichi found himself biting down…removing the cookie from his mouth and taking in a bite. “And that’s…why you teased me so much? Because you…like me being fat?”

“No…no, I love you being fat. Eehee…”

Looking down, Kokichi’s face was so flushed, smiling with so much genuine mirth, Shuichi couldn’t help but smile a little in return. Hesitantly at first, he reached out, cupping Kokichi’s bony little shoulder with his soft hands. Kokichi folded in, just barely fitting himself onto his lap…and entirely burying himself in the warm, living pillow of Shuichi’s body. Shuichi’s arms wrapped around him, fully blanketing him in plush, protective softness, and he let out a tiny sigh.

“Mm… Oh, gosh… I love you, Shumai. I love your body just as it is right now. It’s marvelous…it’s so, so comfy. Just…let me stay here a while?”

His entire demeanor had melted, becoming so unexpectedly sweet, Shuichi almost couldn’t believe it was real. Any moment, Kokichi would leap out of his arms and start laughing in his face again. But the feeling he was getting…the lovely, gentle aura he felt inside his embrace was just so, so very genuine.

“…Of course.” Shuichi pressed his own cheek to the top of Kokichi’s ruffled hair, hearing him hum quietly in response.

Maybe…maybe it wasn’t so bad. If his bulgy pudginess could comfort this tiny body, envelop him in soothing security… If he loved it so much…

Kokichi’s careful hands gently pinched up to his sides to the rolls of his back, massaging and rubbing and feeling every inch of precious body padding he could reach.

If it could make him this happy, this content…maybe it wasn’t that bad. He loved it. He truly, deeply loved it. So…so he would try his best to love it, too.  

[if-shes-not-vriska-then-who]

Can you make a dating Elwurd headcanon list? It would complete my lesbian heart XD

Sure thing! Elwurd dating: With help from @literallyn01imp0rtant at like 2 in the morning.

Elwurd and Tirona:

-Do each others hair. Elwurd brushes Tirona’s to the side while Tirona makes little braids and ponytails in Elwurds hair.

 -Tirona tattles, Elwurd tells your mom. 

-Elwurd thinks Tirona is adorable in her little schoolgirl and rule-following ways, and takes Tirona under her wing. 

-Punk and nerd ship

-Forbidden romance

Elwurd and Skylla:

-Strong independent women, with a lady.

-Both lifestyles lack meat

-Skylla and Elwurd are both problem solvers

-Elwurd admires Skylla’s dedication to being vegetarian-Surprisingly, it’s Skylla who approaches Elwurd, and asks her out. Elwurd accepts and genuinely enjoys her new partners straightforwardness.

Elwurd and Amisia:

-Starts out as a crush.

-Amisia paints pictures of Elwurd in secret, admiring her.

-Elwurd catches on.-Sparks fly.-Heads do not.-Elwurd poses for Amisia’s art

-They spend hours at a time together in a cramped little studio

Elwurd and Folykl:

-Folykl admires Elwurd from atop Kuprums back

-Elwurd gets tired of Folykl’s refusal at taking showers and moving at all

-She decides to help Folykl get her life together

-Folykl tolerates it in moderation so she can spend time with Elwurd

-Elwurd slowly falls for her

-Elwurd and Kuprum become friends because of how often they are together with Folykl

-Elwurd gives Folykl little batteries she finds in drawers

Elwurd and Daraya:

-Two punks-Delinquent duo

-Elwurd is never caught

-Daraya falls hopelessly in love with her, and follows every scheme of Elwurd’s to a ’t’.

 -Elwurd is bright and energetic and loves to spend time with Daraya, already considering the two of them to be together, even though Daraya doesn’t realize it.

Elwurd and Chahut:

-Meet each other on a website

-Meet up in real

-They spend the whole day scrap

-booking-Chahut adds a picture of Elwurd

-The two of them get into sticky situations. Elwurd is the brains, Chahut is the brawn.

-They keep memorials of each troll they’ve tangled with.

Elwurd and Polypa:

-Polypa is meant to kill Elwurd, but instead is offered something even better.

-The two of them team up.

-Elwurd lures the enemy into a false sense of security

-Polypa finishes them off

-Elwurd changes Polypa’s bandages after each incident

-They smoke together on rooftops, and Polypa plays with a lighter as Elwurd admires her.

Elwurd and Tyzias:

-Elwurd is often brought in for questioning

-Tyzias does her job, but Elwurd always has all her bases covered.

-Halfway through the first meeting, Elwurd began to flirt

-Tyzias began to get sloppy once this became a regular thing.

-She hoped that Elwurds comments were true

-Elwurd drank from Tyzias’s mug once

-The taste was indescribable-Good cop, bad cop, flustered cop?

-Elwurd listens to Tyzias’ rants on conspiracies

-Tyzias sleeps for once, but only with Elwurd

Elwurd and Lynera: 

-Punk and nerd

-The nerd wants to rebel, just a little

-What better way than with the punkest punk around?

-Elwurd finds the nerds attempts all too cute and goes along with it

-Lynera manages to reign in Elwurd, bit by bit.

-They listen to bad songs and Lynera lets Elwurd do her makeup, even though the blue blood is horrible at it.

Elwurd and Nihkee:

-Only one can be the best

-The two compete and try to out

-butch the other

-Elwurd keeps her cool while Nihkee gets angry

-Elwurd reigns in Nihkee after a while, even if it’s just while they’re alone.

-Every time they kiss, it’s a fight.

Elwurd and Boldir:

-Elwurd is curious

-She wants to know what’s in the coat

-Boldir is quick to rule her out of the suspects, making Elwurd a great sidekick, what with her flattery and charm.

-Or if she is a suspect, keep your enemies closer

-Elwurd tries on Boldir’s hat and coat

-Boldir gets Elwurd her own dorky hat lined with foil, for her own protection, of course. 

Elwurd and Ardata:

-Probably not Vriska

-Elwurd admires how mysterious she is-She wants to find out more.

-Ardata is a hard nut to crack-Usually she doesn’t like nuts, but she can make an exception.

Elwurd and Stelsa: 

-Elwurd pity parties with Stelsa once she decides that the troll looked lonely on Jewish-troll-Hanukkah

-Oh whoops she had fun

-Elwurd finds her innocence endearing-They hang out again after that

-Elwurd protects her from learning what he really meant by ‘texting your sister’

-Stelsa want’s to know what she means by 'knows your mom’

-Stelsa wants to know what exactly a mom is and what it has to do with lusii.

[forged-through-trials]

The following day, we hit up Mach-Na again, as she seemed to be a great source of info about Cheydinhal. Irritable, sure, but informative. Mach-Na: "Are you actually going to buy something, today?" Trials: "No, no... we're just curious about what the words is around town." Mach-Na: "Ugh... I need to start charging for gossip! "Well, have you heard of Rythe Lythandas?" Trials: "'Right Left-Hand-Us'?" Mach-Na: "...close enough. "He's possibly the greatest painter in all of Cyrodiil." Trials: "When I get a house, I'll be sure to give him a call." Mach-Na: "...no, not that kind of painter. He does landscapes. "Sadly, he's gone missing. His wife, Tivela, is beside herself with grief." Trials: "I'd ask why the town guard aren't looking for him, but after my last job, I know exactly why they haven't. Chances are Ulrich never thought to fine people for going missing." Mach-Na gave us some directions, so we legged it over toward the Lythandas home. It was decidedly large and posh, as one might expect from a career-artist. The door was unlocked, so Ruin and I let ourselves in, announcing our entrance to the lady of the house. Trials: "Greetings. I'm Forged-Through-Trials, and this is my associate, Ruined-Tail." Ruin: "Greetings, madam." Tivela: "...well, apologies, strangers-who-barged-into-my-home, but may I ask you a favor? "It seems my husband, Rythe, has gone missing, and I just don't know what to do." Ruin: "I... question the reasoning of asking two strangers who waltz into your home uninvited for help in this matter." Trials: "Well, who else is she gonna ask? The town-guard who will fine her for disturbing their nap?" Ruin: "...point taken." Trials: "Anyway, Ms. Tea-f'er-ya Lift-And-Bust--" Tivela: "...close enough." Trials: "--we actually stopped by because we'd heard he was missing. I'm something of a traveling mystery-solver, and happy to put my skills to the case!" Tivela: "I thank you for your kind offer, madam. "Yes, Rythe likes to work in his studio with the door locked, so no one can disturb him. He usually comes out to eat dinner and sleep, but two days ago, he didn't come out at all. When he hadn't left his studio for a whole day, I used to key he gave me for emergencies to open the door... and he was completely gone! "I'm sure he never left that room. So I have no idea where he's gone. Please, help me find Rythe. I love him dearly, and I am so worried!" Trials: "Oooh, a Locked Door Mystery. Never had one of those, before. "But worry not, ma'am. I'm on the case!" Tivela offered me the key to Rythe's studio, bidding that I hurry to find her husband. Accepting the key, I turned toward the studio, unlatching the door and stepping inside.

Huh, so this is where the "magic" happens? Where Rythe does all of his work that has made him famous across Cyrodiil? Seems a little cramped, to me, but those paintings leaning against the wall spoke to his talent and ability. The narrow setting sure didn't hamper him any. I took a little look around. Nothing jumped out at me right away as being any kind of evidence. There were just a bunch of art supplies laying around, and not even so much as a sign of a struggle. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something. I looked to find that painting sitting on the easel. Ruin was occupied consoling Tivela, so I stepped into the room to investigate, and thought that I had seen the face of that painting ripple as if it were the surface of a pond. I stepped up, and drew even closer still, reaching a hand out to touch the face of that painting, and...

Well, let's a-go! After the strange, white void, my eyes cleared to reveal a foresty meadow. Though something was very... off about this place. From the way the ground felt, to the look of the rocks, the trees, the leaves... leaves? Those aren't even leaves! They're painted on! Where the heck was I? This place was like something out of one of my Akaviri Picture-Books! It was about then that I noticed I was alone. Ruin hadn't followed me in. Maybe he hadn't seen me get sucked into the painting, and was right now wondering what had become of me. I wasn't alone for long, though. As I was still trying to acclimate to the bizarre landscape, a fairly dressed Dark Elf approached me.

Rythe: "Where did you come from? You look real enough. You must be from the outside! Oh, thank goodness someone finally came!" Trials: "Whoa, are you Ripe Lasagna?" Rythe: "...close enough. "While I'm overjoyed to see a friendly face, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you." Trials: "Salmo the Baker is discontinuing his famous Sweet Rolls?" Rythe: "...okay, maybe not that bad. "No, we're stuck here. Sorry to break it to you like that, but if it wasn't for that annoying thief, we wouldn't be in this predicament!" Trials: "IDidn'tDoEet!" Rythe: "What? No, not you! It was a different thief. "I was in my studio, when a Bosmer wearing dark clothing accosted me. Before I could call for help, he knocked me unconscious." Trials: "Very rude of him." Rythe: "How do you think I feel? "When I came to, I found that the door to my studio was still locked, and that the thief had snatched my paintbrush. That's when I saw it." Trials: "You mean the void of white with the hollow star-shape in it?" Rythe: "No, that came later. What I saw was something on the canvas of my painting that I hadn't put there. It looked somewhat like a troll, but it was badly done. Then it hit me!" Trials: "The Bosmer again?" Rythe: "No, it was the realization that the Bosmer must have leapt into the painting, then painted guardians inside to protect himself using the Brush of Truepaint!" Trials: "Whoa, slowdown. What the heck is the 'Brush of Truepaint'?" Rythe: "I knew the secret of my success would be revealed one day. I can tell you all about the Brush, if you like." Rythe regaled me with the tale; in the war of 3E 396, his father was a soldier who was injured when an errant fireball exploded near him, costing him the use of both arms. A painter before being conscripted into the war, it seemed his career was over. But he prayed night and day to the Divine Dibella for some way to express his artistic side once more. And I guess because Dibella is not the goddess of growing new arms, instead she gave him a paintbrush woven from her own hair. The magic of the Brush allows the painter to step inside of a canvas to paint objects to life size. Though 'paint' is not quite accurate, since all the user has to do is think about what they want, and it will appear. The Brush of Truepaint was then passed down to Rythe from his father, and is the source of Rythe's talent and fame. Trials: Deadpan. "Oh. So you're a phony." Rythe: "...I mean, yes, but you shouldn't say it like that." Trials: "Oh well. Truth be told, I've been all Fake It 'Til I Make It since I first arrived in Cyrodiil." Rythe: "...faking it?" Trials: "Oh, yes. I'm an alcoholic ex-slave who gets by mostly by the fact that I'm harder to kill than I look. I honestly can't believe people keep giving me jobs. Or that I keep pulling wins outta my butt." Rythe: His face paled. "Oooohh that doesn't inspire confidence." Trials: "About as much confidence as I have in your art-skills." Rythe: "Right. Any port in a storm, eh? "We need to get the Brush back, which means you're going to have to get past the thief's Painted Trolls. I cannot do it. I am not a warrior." Trials: "What about the thief himself? Anything I need to worry about with him?" Rythe: "Thankfully, that problem solved itself. I heard him scream not long after I arrived. The trolls that the thief painted seemed to have turned on their creator and killed him. He didn't know the Brush had its risks." Trials: "Well, sucks to be him." Rythe: "The creatures now roam loose all over the forest and in the clearing where I was still working. The Brush is on the body of the Bosmer Thief, there. "Here, take these bottles of turpentine. They may help." Trials: "...unless we're making gut-rotting moonshine, I don't see how. But thanks, I guess."

On second thought, everything here is made of paint, right? So maybe this turpentine could be useful after all! I could... pour some on the rocks to melt them... nah, no, what would I do with melted rocks? I guess the best alternative would be to pour this stuff on my weapons to give them a little extra bite against the trolls.

I dipped my arrows in the turpentine, and upon spotting one of the trolls, let the poisoned arrow fly. It worked like a charm, and the Troll went down in one shot. Guess I owe Rythe an apology. The rest of the trolls went down in similar fashion. That turpentine went a long, long way... meaning it would probably make some really powerful moonshine if I can save any.

A hop and skip through the painted forest later, and I'd found the 'clearing' Rythe spoke of. It wasn't so much a 'clearing' as it was a space that looked unfinished. It was quite strange to look at, and even stranger to walk on. The texture of the place was not unlike one might imagine from a canvas. Once the last Troll was downed, I was able to advance onto the corpse of the Wood Elf thief. It only took a little bit of rifling through his pockets to retrieve the Brush. I took a minute to admire it; it looked so much like an ordinary paintbrush, but it apparently was some kind of amazing, enchanted Aedric Artifact. What're the odds that I would run into something like this? Well, now to get it back to Rythe. A short walk through the painted forest later, and I'd returned, Brush in hand, and quickly handed it off to the artist. Rythe: "You have the Brush? Excellent work, my friend." Trials: "Told ya I'd pull a win outta muh butt!" Rythe: "Certainly glad your bottom had at least one last 'win' to give. Now, I will paint the portal back home. Once it appears, you should go through first. Or you might be stuck in here forever." Trials: "Wait, before ya do, can you... paint me a meat-pie?" Rythe: "I can, but it would taste like paint." Trials: "Aww, lame!"

Rythe took the Brush and stepped a few paces away, drawing both the Brush and a pallet... for some reason. He already told me he doesn't actually need to wave the Brush around to make it work. I think he just felt like showing off. Whatever the case, after a few moments of waving the brush at empty air like a showy moppet, a window appeared, floating in the air. It looked like a painting of Rythe's studio. Once done, Rythe stepped to one side, and allowed me to pass first, and I quickly did so. I emerged from the painting back into Rythe's studio, right in front of a very shocked Ruined-Tail. Ruin: "Trials! Where have you been? I turned my back for one minute and you just vanished!" Trials: I grinned with cheek. "What're you talking about, Ruin? I never left this room!" Ruin: "..." He rolled his eyes. "You've got a weird story to tell me, don't you? Or you've been drinking again. Wait, that's it; you snuck off to drink didn't you?" Trials: I pouted. "Ruin! I'd never do that while on the job!"

Before I could explain myself to Ruin, Rythe rushed forward to meet his wife, the happy couple holding a just as happy reunion. Tivela: "Rythe! Oh, my love! You are home safe... I was so afraid." Rythe: "If it wasn't for my friend, here, you'd be right." Tivela: "This is wonderful! Now we won't miss my mother's birthday." Rythe: Deadpan. "Oh... goodie." He tried to force a smile, and turned to me. "Well, my mother-in-law not withstanding, I don't know how to thank you. You have a good heart to help get me back home. I'll never forget what you've done for me." Trials: "Hey, no problemo, my dude." Rythe: "If I may ask one last favor; please keep the Brush's existence a secret. If word gets around that I have it, I'm afraid more than a lone cut-purse will visit me." Trials: "Sure, my lips are sealed. Barring some extreme situation, like, say, if I find myself in a predicament where I desperately need an Aedric Artifact to help save the world, or something." Rythe and I shared a hearty laugh at that quip. Surely, nothing like that could ever possibly happen to little ol' me, after all!

Rythe gave me an apron as a token of his appreciation. Not the flashiest of gifts, but a fine reminder of my contribution to the arts. Also it's enchanted and thus, very valuable, so that's pretty nice! And thus I closed another case. The missing artist has been returned safely to his home and his loving wife, and Cheydinhal is richer for the adventure. I've probably tapped all of the info I can get out of Mach-Na, but I'd say chances are good the Fighters and Mages Guilds might have some work for me. And once those are out of the way, I still have the Thieves Guild job, and the Castle Vault, to hit, before I blow this town and hit the road once more.

[montanabarb]

Puppy Tales By Phoebe “Bug” Harriott

Log Entry #1: There is Evil at the bottom of my water bowl that I must uncover. I paw frantically, sometimes with all four paws, to no avail. I am hampered in my efforts by my Human who continues to fill the bowl with liquid. Does she think she can drown Evil? Silly Human. Evil cannot be vanquished by drowning. I will resume my efforts later, when the Human does not have her video recorder at hand.

Log Entry #2: The Big Dog is under the illusion that she is the boss of me. I find this amusing as I am skilled at subterfuge. Big Dog is not easily charmed, yet. For now I bide my time until I assert my rights as Top Dog.

Log Entry #3: The Old Red Dog has rebuffed my advances. At times he seems to invite play by running to his food bowl. Confusing. He avoids eye contact and seems remotely hostile to my existence. I am unafraid. He has no teeth.

Log Entry #4: There are two felines inhabiting our compound. Orange Nose Cat welcomed my advances and enjoys our rousing wrestling matches. She flicked her tail for my amusement but objected when I engaged. My feelings were hurt. Orange Nose Cat is a tease. But I still like her quite a lot. When I introduced myself to Black Nose Cat she got very big and made a noise that hurt my ears. Black Nose Cat is not any fun. She doesn’t even have a tail.

Log Entry #5: I have discovered a tasty delicacy I call Truffles. You have to snuffle in the gravel around the large horse machine parked by the barn to find them, but it’s worth it. The flavor is grain, grass, and horse butt. Such delicious nuggets!

Log Entry #6: I like shoes. That is all.

Log Entry #6 Update: I LOVE shoes. The Human puts them on her feet when we go outside, then takes them off when we go inside, then puts them on for outside, then off for inside. Sometimes she forgets to hide them from me. Oh, the chewiness. The crumbly little horse butt tasty bits on the bottom. I LOVE shoes even more than Big Girl Lamb Chop that lost its stuffing and squeaker.

Log Entry #7: Big Dog tells me to anticipate a visit from the Farrier. He leaves a buffet of deliciousness on the barn floor. The Human thinks she clears up all the tasty bits. BD says NOT to disabuse her of this belief. I must use stealth to retrieve each tasty bit and carry it to a secure location to savor. If I must barf, I should do so in a remote area when the Human is not looking. I anxiously await the coming of this Farrier. I think my charm is working on BD.

Log Entry #8: Fences are the funnest puzzles. So many choices: go under, go over, go through? My Human understands me. I am Aussie. I am Problem Solver. The Human keeps adding baling twine and wood scraps to make it even funner! Human is so attentive to me but she looks tired.

Log Entry #9: The Old Red Dog has finally succumbed to my charms. He gives me hugs but it is rather awkward because he sits on me and arches his back. I’m not convinced these are “good” touches.

Log Entry #10: I am sorry about that time liquid excrement shot out of my pucker hole in the middle of the night on the Male Human’s side of bed. I warned the Human that a fart was a message from Fort Gut to Fort Butt that General Turd was on the move.

Log Entry #11: The Human puts Rugs all over the hard floor. They are extremely effective at stopping a power slide. The edges are VERY tasty. Especially the one that my Human brought all the way from Morocco in 1992. It is handmade and has fringes! The Human forgot about the Rug rolled up under the bed in the guest room. It was hard work but I brought it out to her when she forgot to close the door. The Human was impressed but not grateful.

Log Entry #12: Orange Nose Cat is a two-timing hussy. I think she is ghosting me. Not a sniff, not a snuffle. Yesterday, I spied Orange Nose Cat slinking her fine, silky cat fur up against Old Red Dog. “Hey Mister <<purr>> gimme some sugar.” What?! I thought we had something special.

Log Entry #13: I met a new Human and was so excited stuff leaked out onto the floor. The Human moves very fast when that sort of thing happens. The Human checks her wrist to count her steps every day so I think she appreciates the motivation to increase her Activity.

Log Entry #14: The Human who made this house put chew sticks along the bottom of all the walls and around the doors. This brilliant Human must love dogs.

Log Entry #15: Pachelbel’s Canon in D was delicious, almost as yummy as worms. I only got a small taste of Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring and will have to report back at a later date if I can find it again. I am inhibited by a barrier around the big black music thing.

Log Entry #16: The Farrier visited yesterday! I only barfed once, at 1:16am. I tried to be discreet, per Big Dog’s instruction, but I was confined to this Cage thing the Human puts me in at bedtime.

Log Entry #17: I am mastering the Human’s language. “Come” and “Sit” are very tasty. This “Ouch” is confusing. I believe I have several names. In addition to “Phoebe” and “Bug,” I recognize “That’s Not a Chew Toy” and “Leave the Old Dog Alone.”

Log Entry #18: ONE minor excavation project and the Human insists on a bath.

Log Entry #19: The Human assumes I will just blindly “come” when offered a mere mystery meat morsel, sometimes just a fraction of a morsel. When I was just a kid I fell for that ruse. I am Aussie. I am smart. I will pretend I hear nothing and continue to snuffle for truffles.

Log Entry #20: The Human managed to catch me and shackle me with The Leash to go to School today. The teacher smells AMAZING! I think I love her more than Orange Nose Cat.

Log Entry #21: Every time I retrieve a pair of shoes (actually I prefer to enjoy one shoe at a time) the Human puts it immediately back in my closet. I suspect the Human is OCD. I think I’ll recommend she try a belly rub. They sure do settle me.

Log Entry #22: I hate to complain, but the Human does not refill my kiddy pool on a timely basis when I empty it. The Human calls it a water bowl.

Log Entry #23: This is confidential, but I pooped my pants in the car on the way to School. Drool dripped from my mouth. Very embarrassing but I scored lots of lap time the rest of the day.

Log Entry #24: As the new kid in the Pack, I believe I am being fed inferior vittles. I continually ask to eat the Big Dog’s chow, very insistently but politely of course, but am forever rebuffed. I wonder if I am malnourished?

Log Entry #25: Sometimes Big Dog acts like my mom and licks my face and ears. Like a spa day. Other times Big Dog does that arched back hugging thing right on my head and it just doesn’t seem right to me.

Log Entry #26: I poop on the floor and the Human steps in it once, maybe twice, ok three times, and you’d think the sky is falling. Old Red Dog drops a trail of turds from his pucker hole on the way to the door and the Human just picks it up and sprays stinky stuff. Sheesh. I did learn some new words that appear to be reserved for extreme situations.

Log Entry #27: The Human keeps the Son of Satan in a closet. SoS makes a very loud noise and tries to suck the fur right off my body! I try to disable SoS and frighten Him with my ferocious tone of voice. I suspect that Big Dog and Old Red Dog might have sold their souls to SoS because they are unaffected by his loud presence in my home.

Log Entry #28: I have been promoted to Apprentice Barn Chore Dog and awarded limited access to the horse stalls. Big Dog has full authority in the barn and unlimited access to the horse butt nuggets. BD tells me to be patient and my time will come. For now, I relish the delightful aroma that emanates from BD’s pucker hole after a morning of butt nuggets.

Log Entry #29: The Human keeps asking, “Where’s my left slipper, Bug?” I need more information, Human. Is that the one without the heel or the one without an insole?

Log Entry #30: Major discovery! If I chomp on Mr. Monkey, Moo Cow, and Weanie Squeakee just right, they sing a delightful soprano song. I can carry the melody all around the house!

[andrewmoocow]

Fooly Falls chapter 4: Batter Up (originally posted on July 12, 2017)

It was another beautiful day in Gravity Falls, perhaps beautiful enough for a nice game of baseball. Yeah, this is the baseball chapter alright. Anyway, Haruko hit the ball really hard, much to the opposing team's shock as it flies out of the park and towards the sky. Everyone was busy comprehending what just happened as Haruko arrogantly thanked everyone while doing a little victory dance.

“Oy, she is just too good.” Stan complained as he, Dipper, Mabel, Ford, Soos, Wendy, Candy, Grenda, Pacifica, Robbie, McGucket and Waddles sat in the dugout. “I think that last one went into space.” Wendy added. “Wait a minute, why are we playing baseball anyway?” Stan wondered. “I came up with that Mr. Pines.” Soos answered. “You see, in many of the anime I watch, the characters would sometimes just chill out and play a nice game of baseball.”

Stan was still confused. “Yeah, but why baseball anyway?” he continued on.     ”Filler episodes dude.” Soos added. “I will never understand the shows that you watch Soos. Like that weird giant robot show. Why is it that our wimpy protagonist can't seem to choose between the hot-blooded blonde Russian girl, the heavy drinker or the blue-haired clone?”

“So you made up this whole team Mabel?” Dipper asked his sister, who was wearing a baseball-themed sweater with a gnome on it, as Stan and Soos continued debating. “Yeah, I even got a mascot and everything!” she replied pointing to a man wearing a gnome-themed costume dancing around the field. The mascot took his head off to reveal a rather normal looking man black-haired man with a smile on his face. “Great work there Tad!” she said to him. “She promised me bread.” he announced.

“Yes, thank you.” Haruko thanked as a gnome handed her a dollar bill. “You're welcome babe, you're a great help to the Forest Freaks.” the gnome replied with a Manotaur, a Gremoblin, a unicorn, a group of beautiful-looking blonde men in white and a Lilliputtian stood behind him. “Say, why are you so good at hitting anyway?” he asked Haruko. “I just have my ways Jeff.” she replied. “Good to hear that!” he exclaimed as he turned to another gnome with a bushy grey beard and unaligned eyes. “Make a note of that Schmebulock.”

“Schmebulock!” the other gnome exclaimed as he pulled a pen out of his beard and started scribbling on his hand. “Schmebulock.” he said. “Is Schmebulock all you can say?” the Manotaur asked looking at Schmebulock's hand. “Schmebulock.” he glumly replied.

“This is utter cockamamie balderdash!” Stan shouted from the dugout. “How is it that the Gravity Falls Gnomes, who have two old men with tons of fighting experience and a lumberjack's daughter who could kick ass, lose to a bunch of weirdos who don't know the first thing about baseball?”

“Maybe we need to bring out someone who knows his way around baseball.” Candy replied as everyone turned to Dipper. “Yeah, Dipper can help us win!” Grenda shouted. “I-I don't know guys, I'm not all that great at this game and Haruko is like crazy good.” Dipper groaned. “C'mon Dipper, we just need someone who can outmatch her.” Ford said putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Alright fine.” Dipper said as he picked up a bat and walked to home plate while his team chanted for him. “I'm going to die here Chutzpar, I just know it.” he mumbled to the Manotaur, who was serving as umpire. “Not gonna lie, I sort of agree.” Chutzpar replied.

Dipper readied his bat preparing to strike but he missed the ball. “STRIKE ONE!” Chutzpar shouted. The boy readied himself again, only to miss once more. “STRIKE TWO!” the umpire cried. He prepared to strike again, only to get knocked down by the ball. “Strike three, he's out!” Haruko exclaimed with a cheeky look on her face.

“Ooh, that's gonna leave a mark!” Wendy stated as Waddles carried Dipper back to the dugout. “You alright there, how many fingers am I holding up?” Robbie asked as he pulled out three of his fingers. “Well everybody, might as well admit defeat.” Stan bluntly stated as he got up to congratulate the Forest Freaks. “We can't give up just yet Stanley!” Ford said grabbing his brother's arm. “Look over there!” He pointed to Canti as he was picking up various balls from the field.

Soon enough, Canti was practicing with the Gnomes as Soos pitched. “Wow, he's actually pretty good.” Pacifica gasped in awe of the machine's skills until they all turned to notice Stan hunched over, his fingers locked together and his glasses suddenly shining. “This is it everyone, my secret weapon!” he proudly proclaimed.

As they all cheered, Dipper walked away with a stoic look on his face back to the Shack until he turned to Haruko standing over him. “That bandaged head look kinda suits you.” she said. “C'mon kid, it's a compliment.” Dipper, as usual, wasn't buying it. “Does it really matter anyway? Like I said, I'm not good at baseball.” he replied. “Quit lying kid!” she exclaimed as she held her bass aloft. Dipper winced, thinking she was going to hit him again, but instead she put it down and got on her Vespa.

“Anyway, nothing's gonna happen unless you swing the bat.” she said as she rode off, leaving Dipper to contemplate her words. “Oh yeah, forgot to tell you much earlier Dipper, but my parents got a new Medical Mechanica factory here.” Pacifica said walking up behind him. “Are you okay there?”

Meanwhile in another part of town, Commander Amarao had rolled in on a Vespa with Kitsurubami, Powers, Trigger and a few other agents behind him. “Well men, this is the place.” he said. “Fan out, I want the Vespa Woman brought to me by tomorrow.” he ordered to the others.

“SIR YES SIR!” they all replied as they spread out across the Oregon town. Amarao did so himself as he tackled a man with a goatee wearing a red flannel shirt. “You there, what do you know about a pink-haired girl with a yellow scooter and 4001 Rickenbacker?” he inquired. “A Rickenbacker, like the one Paul McCartney has? Or was it John Lennon?” the man replied as he took notice of his interrogator's eyebrows. “Those eyebrows....”

“Don't you befuddle me with your Beatles trivia, where is she?” he demanded. “Oh yeah, I think she's hanging around the Mystery Shack.” the man answered as Amarao dropped him to the ground. “Thank you good sir, now have a nice day.” The agent then got back on his scooter as he rode away. “I guess he must be a fan of the rock that looks like a face rock.”

“Hey everyone, I'm back.” Dipper announced as he walked back into the Shack's living room to find Haruko, still in her baseball uniform, twitching uncontrollably as Stan gave her a massage while Mabel looked on. “Oh hey kid, caught us at an awkward time. Dinner's in a bit.” Stan said as the girl started moaning. “Oh, it hurts! Not so rough!”

“What are you doing?” the young mystery solver asked as the moaning got louder. “Oh yes, your gristle is like baby lamb wool!” she screamed. “Old people massages are actually pretty good, don'tcha think?” she asked Dipper blushing. “You really stink, you could just change into some clean clothes.” the boy said as he walked away. “And yet I can't smell your sweat, wonder why? Oh, I'm too tired to even hold a fork!”

“Why were you playing for all those creatures anyway?” Dipper asked turning to her. “They gave me good money, thought it could help with the electric bill.” she replied before moaning again.

“Here Haruko, try some of this!” Stan offered her some eggs at dinner as he gulped down on some brown meat, squealing happily along the way. “Now this is what life is worth livin' for!” he exclaimed. “What are you even doing anyway?!” Dipper asked, thinking back to the Vespa Woman's first time at the Shack when she said that she needed him. “Y'know what, I'm going outside for some fresh air.” He walked outside as Stan, Mabel, Haruko and Canti watched. “Geez, what's with him?” Mabel wondered.

Meanwhile outside, Dipper sat down on the front steps thinking about what had just happened. Haruko had said that very night that she needed him yet here she was getting close with his great uncle. “Excuse me young man, is this place your home?” a voice asked. Dipper turned his head to see a red-haired man with large eyebrows and a pair of sunglasses standing before him. “And it's also a tourist trap?”

“No sir, me and my sister are living here for the summer.” the pine tree kid answered. “Then I guess you might know what I'm looking for, huh?” the stranger replied turning to him. “Those eyebrows....” Dipper said to himself looking at his eyebrows.

“I've heard intel about a man in a fez calling himself Stan Pines disguising as a gangster to break into a meeting of the Molehill Gang at Booby's. I'd like to speak with him.” the stranger politely said. “Sorry mister, my grunkle's busy but I do have something that might be of interest to you.” Dipper replied as he rushed back inside and came back out with the Firestarter in hand.

“I've been researching about an ancient being that once roamed this land and I think you might be interested.” Dipper started scrolling through the page as the man watched. “See, this man has once inhabited this land and got bored one day, so he made a deal with a dream demon known as Bill Cipher to gain ultimate power and wipe out his people.” He turned over the page to show the filled-in outline of Bill.

“I'm sorry kid, but this is all make-believe compared to what I've seen!” the man stated. “Listen, I'm looking for a girl with a Vespa scooter that's living here.” The young detective immediately knew what this man was talking about. “Oh, you mean Haruko? She's been living here as a maid, even though all she does is mooch off my family.” he said.

“So she's been hanging with you. That means she's addicted to you in a way.” the man said. “Listen, she's mad I tell you. Hopefully you didn't tell many people about her, cause then you'll think smart They'll find out what you're dealing with eventually.” Dipper put the parchment away in his jacket pocket as the man adjusted his shades. “Say, is there anything for sale here?”

“Thanks, I always wanted one of these.” the man thanked Dipper as he got on his scooter holding a fish covered in fur. “Anyway, older women can have an effect on you, so you better be careful.” The man drove away from the Shack as Dipper stood there watching while Stan and Haruko laughed wildly inside. “I got a bad feeling about this.

“So you're saying Haruko is hanging out with Grunkle Stan more despite the fact she said she needed you?” Mabel said when Dipper walked up to their room. “Exactly sis. I've been feeling that she's using us for her own agenda.” he replied. “And there was also this guy with really big eyebrows that knows about her somehow.”

“Wait, eyebrows?” Mabel said curiously. “Yeah, he came here looking for Stan and found me instead.” Dipper replied. “How big were they?” she asked. “Like really big. I'm pretty sure they're not ever real!” he replied. “Going off topic here, but is it okay if I call you Takkun like what Haruko does?”

“No.”

“Batting practice at sunset?” Haruko asked later that evening outside the gift shop. “Do you want me to be your coach?” she added as Dipper strolled away from her. “No, please.” he replied. “I can teach you how.” she said. “Just go away and keep doing crazy things with my uncle.” he replied hiding behind the totem pole. “We're in this together Pine Tree.” Haruko said as his grunkle's head dropped on the ground, much to his shock. Then suddenly, Mabel's head was behind him as well. “Your head is the only one that works Takkun.” she stated as she held the boy's head in her arms and then back on his body. “You'll hit a homerun soon. Promise.”

Later, Dipper stood outside holding a baseball bat with Haruko watching him. “Yeah, that's the right stance.” she said. “Buuut, you have to swing the bat!” Just then, Ford walked outside all bleary-eyed and his hair very unkempt. “Pardon me for being rude kids,” he said. “but what are you doing at 3:00am?”

“She's helping me with batting practice Ford.” Dipper replied before Haruko laid herself all over him. “Hit it into the sky, don't hold back.” she continued. “Before he swings the bat, a real slugger imagines an arc inside his heart, arching directly to heaven.” She took hold of the boy's arms and made him point the bat towards a flickering star. “I think that star would make a great target.” Ford said. “Yeah, but why is it blinking like that?”

Meanwhile in a secluded part of town, the agents had made their temporary base in an abandoned house with Kitsurubami, Powers and Trigger supervising them. “Alright, put it up on screen.” Powers ordered as the image changed from static to a large satellite circling the Earth. “Kitsurubami, analyze.”

“It's been ten hours since impact.” she announced. “We have experienced a total loss of control after it caused irreparable damage to sectors six through eighteen and displaced all three antennas including the spare.” As she continued explaining, the image of the satellite was enhanced until a baseball was spotted within it. “It made a quantum leap into the central processing sector and scored a direct hit on the core unit. This is Satellite Geo-Saki, it's proceeding with its self-programmed attack.”

The three government officials turned towards their superior Amarao examining the fur trout he received from the Mystery Shack. “Is everything alright Commander Amarao?” Trigger wondered. “It's nothing, I just can't help but wonder what fur this is supposed to be from.” Amarao replied handing the fish to the three. “I have a feeling it might be from some kind of grizzly bear.”

“Those eyebrows.....” the agents and lieutenant thought. “So when's it gonna fall?!” their superior exclaimed. “Commander, sir!” a scientist exclaimed rushing into the room before standing in attention. “We have good news on the statue of Diamond Brandy you have told us about!” he stated.

“Wait, Diamond Brandy?” Kitsurubami wondered looking at the scientist. “Amarao has gotten word from a young boy staying at 618 Gopher Road that there is a statue of a powerful vampire wizard that we have dug up.” he explained to the others. “Good work Dr. Hubert.” Amarao thanked him before leading his companions to the lab. “Seriously, I still feel like we've been to that Gopher Road place before.” Powers whispered to Trigger. “Maybe we came there in like, another life or something weird like that.”

“So Stuart, how's the life goin'?” another scientist in the lab asked chatting with his partner as he turned on some UV lights. “Oh y'know Ken, my fiancee left me, my mom died, dad got deported, but I got a sweet car last month!” Stuart replied. Just then, Amarao, Kitsurubami, Powers, Trigger and Hubert stepped into the lab. “Commander Amarao, sir!” the two shouted saluting him. “So boys, how goes researching that statue?” Hubert asked stepping forward. “We seem to have uncovered something....peculiar.” Ken answered. “There is a hole on his forehead that only showed up when we collected it. Have a look-see.”

Hubert stepped forward, staring deep within the hole as an air of dread crawled all over him. Suddenly, a large drill popped out impaling him in his forehead. “He has a horn!” Stuart cried out in horror. “And he's waking up!” Ken replied. “Quick, bring out more UV lamps!” he ordered. “YES SIR!” The statue began to crack more and more until a hulking figure with long blonde hair was revealed underneath. Diamond Brandy was reborn and boy was he hungry. The drill began to rip apart many of the other scientists, coating the UV lamps in blood.

“I can't believe it, he's still alive!” Trigger screamed in fear as the vampire burst from his prison. “And he's using human blood to block out the light!” Kitsurubami added. As Diamond Brandy stepped down, he gazed at the remaining mortals. “Hm, it seems the world has changed quite a bit while I was asleep.” he said to himself. “Your modern technology proves no match for the last of the Pole People!”

“Stay back monster!” the armored security guards exclaimed as they charged into the lab, pointing their weapons at him. “Zuhohoho, feeding time.” Brandy chuckled to himself as time slowed to a stop. He waltzed around the guards like a flash of light to them until time was restored to normal, and that's when they realized his true power.

“Commander, my hands!” One of the guards screamed in horror as he laid eyes upon his fingers being locked together with a scientist's, along with all of the other guards and scientists. “THEY'RE STUCK TOGETHER!” they all shouted. “Someone, do something!” Amarao shouted before Kitsurubami fired her anti-tank rifle at Brandy, only for it to to fail as he grabbed the bullet in his hands and poked it, transforming it into a large cricket which hopped away.

“You won't get away with this you abomination!” a scientist hollered before Diamond appeared right before his eyes and jabbed his drill into his forehead, reducing him and the others into lumps of flesh. “I think it's time for a new look. Allow me to change into something more....comfortable.” the monster announced before telekinetically bringing forth the blood of his victims and making it surround him like a cocoon.

“Somebody, shoot him!” Powers exclaimed pointing at the blood cocoon. “We already tried that, and now looked what happened!” Kitsurubami shouted in reply pointing towards the giant cricket that was menacing Stuart and Ken. The cocoon suddenly burst open, revealing Diamond Brandy now bare-chested and wearing a long flowing red cape and white hakama pants. “Ah, so much better.” the demon stated proudly looking around before turning to the two scientists.

“Please spare us sir!” Stuart cried as he and Ken held each other close, quivering in fear. “We'll do anything to stay alive! Anything!” Ken added as a few tears appeared in his eyes. “Anything?” Diamond said stroking his chin. “I know. I will let you two live, but in exchange you will serve me for all eternity!” he exclaimed as he made his fingertips light up and he tapped the two on their foreheads. Their forms contorted wildly as they screamed in pain until their skin turned pale blue and their labcoats were replaced with clothing just as wild as their new master's.

“From now on, the mortals who call themselves Stuart Dooley and Ken Simpson are dead!” the monster proclaimed as they rose from the ground, smiling evilly. “In their place are my new minions, Stinger and Loggken!” The three of them struck a pose as the four government officials stepped away before running for the hills. “Don't think you can get away so easily!” the two newborn beasts chanted in unison before raising their hands skyward. “RIPPLE!” Just then, the old house started cracking like glass as it began to fade from reality.

“Wait a minute, they can warp reality?!” Agent Trigger exclaimed as they kept running for the front door. “That boy never mentioned anything about that in his paper!” Amarao replied. “Enough about some random kid, we have to run!” Powers and Kitsurubami shouted as they got closer to the door. They jumped out in the nick of time as the house caved in, falling into a hole in space before zipping itself closed.

“That was insane! My life hasn't been at that much risk since the Arcadia Bay case!” Trigger wheezed getting up. “Apparently these so-called Pole People are more powerful than we thought.” Kitsurubami replied. “They can use incredibly powerful magic to slaughter lower beings and have the power of mind control! What do we do now?”

The two then turned to Powers and Amarao looking off into the distance through the forest and at a hovel of a shop. “Easy.” Powers said. “We find someone who knows and can stop him. And we're also gonna need some new men and a new base.”

Dipper woke up in his bed to find Mabel cuddling Waddles in her bed but Haruko was nowhere to be found. “Where is she anyway?” he wondered as he walked down the stairs to search for her. He combed the entire house from the spare room that Ford was sleeping in to the kitchen where he found Canti washing dishes. “Hey Canti, have you seen Haruko anywhere?” he asked the Medical Machine, who shrugged in reply before returning to what he was doing.

“C'mon Haruko, where are you?” Dipper groaned as he got more tired. Suddenly a bright light coming from the vending machine caught his eye. Punching in the code, going downstairs and taking the elevator to the lab, he tiptoed around until he found Haruko playing with the Eyes of Heaven mask Ford told him about. ”What is she doing now?” he wondered before the gleam of the red jewel on its forehead pointed at his forehead, sending him into a frenzy.

“Just as I thought! 618 Gopher Road!” Amarao meanwhile declared in the forest. “Come along everyone, we got a world to save.” he proclaimed to his subordinates. “Eyebrows!”

The next day, it was time for baseball again as the Gnomes cheered for Canti when he stepped up to the mound.”Yah can do it TV-bot!” McGucket hollered. “Yeah, give 'em what for!” Candy added as they all started laughing. Meanwhile, Dipper and Wendy were sitting on the Shack's front steps discussing what happened yesterday. “So some government guys say that Haruko's a loose cannon?” Wendy wondered. “Yeah, he came to me looking for Stan and then he started talking about her when I showed him the Firestarter.” Dipper responded as Haruko pulled up in front of them on her Vespa.

“Hey, the game's already started you two.” Haruko said. “Are you just gonna sit around doing perverted stuff?” she asked. “We're not doing perverted stuff Haruko, you're just insane.” Dipper bluntly replied. “C'mon kid, today's the day you get to swing the bat.” the Vespa woman added. “I'm not sure Haruko,” Wendy said looking at her younger friend. “Dipper really isn't the type to swing the bat.”

“I'm not good at baseball.” Dipper said. “Ah well, it is Canti's first game after all.” Haruko replied. “Oh that's right, we got Lord Canti on our team now!” Wendy exclaimed getting up and sitting behind her on the Vespa. “See ya later dude!” she called to her friend as they drove off. “Have fun.” the boy solemnly replied as he walked back inside.

Back inside the shack, Dipper walked into the living room to a horrifying site, his great uncle lying dead on the ground with the TV smashed in beside him. “Oh my gosh Grunkle Stan, are you alright?!” he panicked. “Who did this to you, what happened here?! I'll call an ambulance!” Looking over what had happened, he heard a noise and turned around to find the elderly con artist sitting at the table surprisingly looking fine. “But, how?” the boy wondered. “What's the matter Dipper? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Stan said turning to his great nephew. “Is-is everything okay?”

“Naw, I'm fine kid.” the uncle replied. “It's just that Haruko and I have built a special kind of relationship over these past few chapters.” He turned to Dipper almost robot-like. “W-what kind?” Dipper asked again. “MOUTH TO MOUTH.” Stan replied in a creepy sounding voice as Haruko's head, now wearing mouse ears, popped out of his mouth. “MOUSE!”

“Because I need you.” Haruko's words began echoing throughout his mind as various images of Waddles chasing a tiny version of her played. “It has to be this way Takkun. That's how life works, sometimes you're the cat and sometimes you're the mouse.”

“She-she once ssssaid something about h-how she needed-needed you Dipper.” Stan started talking almost like a glitched-out robot as he walked towards Dipper. “Or something like thaaaaat.”

“STOP IT ALREADY!” Dipper finally yelled as he hit his grunkle in the head with the baseball bat he was carrying and breaking the TV as well. When everything returned to reality, the boy realized that he was the one that did it.

Meanwhile back at the baseball field, Haruko had scored another point for the Forest Freaks knocking out Canti along the way, once again to the shock of the Gravity Falls Gnomes. “Wow dudes, even with Canti we're still getting murdered out there.” Soos declared as McGucket, Grenda and Robbie examined their fallen teammate. “She's probably doing it on purpose just to screw with us.” Wendy responded. Just then, a siren sounded as Haruko turned her gaze skyward to notice a large dirigible flying over them.

“A state of emergency has been declared in Gravity Falls.” a voice declared. “All citizens evacuate immediately. I repeat, all citizens evacuate.”

“Dipper Pines, age 12, student of Eggbert Elementary School in Piedmont, California, brother of Mabel Danielle Pines, son of Alexander and Danielle Pines, great nephew of Stanley Danley Pines, whom for thirty years imitated his brother Stanford Filbrick Pines after he was lost in another dimension for thirty years. Prefers to keep his first name a secret.” Amarao spoke as he sat with Dipper in a dark room. “A few days ago, a mysterious woman calling herself Haruko Haruhara had taken up residence at your temporary residence of 618 Gopher Road. Y'know, a baguette would've hit harder.”

“Listen sir, I didn't intend on hurting my grunkle!” Dipper claimed. “He was already knocked out when I found him and suddenly he was sitting down at a table all in one piece! He then started talking about how he's really got along with Haruko and and and-” The boy started frantically hyperventilating when Amarao put an end to it. “Simmer down kid.” the large eyebrowed government agent said. “Here, have a drink.” He gave Dipper a cup of tea and started putting in a few sugar cubes. “Heard you're not a big fan of spicy things. I can relate.”

“Like I said, I didn't intend on hitting him! I was just really freaked out. But thanks anyway.” Dipper responded taking the drink. “I've only heard stories about Stan and his criminal record, from pug trafficking, con artistry across multiple states, llamacide, helping transport of illegal goods, etc.” Amarao stated. “But Haruhara is him times eleven. She'll manipulate anyone to her whim to help her achieve her goals. But here she is as the object of affection for you and your uncle.”

“Wait, are you implying that Stan might have the hots for Haruko?!” Dipper exclaimed spitting out his drink. “But he's pushing sixty and she's like 19 or something!” The boy was briefly taken aback by this revelation until he noticed he spat out his drink all over Amarao. “I am so sorry man, let me help you clean that up!” he stuttered trying to search for a towel. “No need Pines, I got it covered.” he replied pulling a napkin from his suit and wiping off his face.

“So you refer to Haruhara by her first name. Are you two close?” Amarao asked. “I'm not really a big fan of her.” Dipper replied. “She's your batting coach, right?” his interrogator added. “Kind of.” the boy replied. “Do you like her swing?” the older man continued on. “I told you, I didn't intend on it! Haruko has nothing to do with this!” Dipper responded. “Then why? Because you were jealous?”

Dipper was too embarrassed to respond. “I've got a big question for you, did she ever mention anything about the Galaxy Space Police Brotherhood or the Pirate King Atomsk?” Amarao inquired. “Make sure you don't tell anyone about our little chat because it's very important, that includes your family as well.”

“Okay, thank you sir. I didn't really get your name.” Dipper said. “I'm Commander Amarao of the US government's Department of Interstellar Immigration. Thank you for your time boy.” he replied, but Dipper was already too distracted by his eyebrows. “Eyebrows.” he mumbled. “What was that about my eyebrows squirt?!” Amarao barked. “Nothing.”

“A state of emergency has been declared in Gravity Falls.” the voice from the blimp continued later that day over the deserted town. “All citizens evacuate immediately. No need to run like hell, please proceed in an orderly fashion.”

Dipper had arrived home to find his great uncle's dead body yet again but now Waddles started sniffing it. “What is it Waddles?” he asked the pig, who oinked in reply. “You're saying this isn't the real Grunkle Stan?” he continued. “Then where is he?”

Waddles led his master's brother to the boiler room across from Ford's bedroom, which contained an unplugged Tumbleweed Terror machine, a television, mattress and more but the item that caught their eye was the trash can which let off a familiar smell. Taking off the lid, Dipper found nothing except the shriveled up body of Stan, stripped down to his underclothes, staring right at him.

Screaming as loud as he can, Dipper rushed his uncle to the bathroom where he tossed him in the bathtub and turned on the water. “C'mon Stan, wake up wake up!” he cried. During this process, he started seeing images of Mabel being hoisted into the air by Canti on the water tower.

“Check it out everyone, I'm king of the world!” Mabel exclaimed as the Medical Machine held her high. “I always wanted to do that, thanks Canti!” Just then, Haruko zoomed on her Vespa below them, much to her surprise. “What's Haruko doing in such a rush?”

Meanwhile back at the Shack, Dipper had brought Stan back to normal after dumping a few buckets of water on him. “Oy, what just happened?” the elderly con artist woozily asked. “And what smells like a dead body?” Dipper was too busy dumping water on him to reply. “I guess I wasn't good enough for Haruko. She asked if she could use my head and I was happy to oblige, but I guess I died for a bit.” That's when the child remembered some more words Amarao said to him.

“N.O uses the left and right brain's distinct thought processes to open up an interdimensional channel capable of transporting things, sometimes from lightyears away in an instant.” he stated. “But she can't use just anyone's head, you gotta find the right one.”

“Grunkle Stan,” Dipper said to him. “I think Haruko might be using us for her own plans, and she wants my head.” Stan, continuing to pour water on himself, agreed. “You might be right, Haruko is not your ordinary houseguest.” As if they spoke of the devil, the Rickenbacker babe barged through the door on her scooter and running over the other Stan, much to the two's surprise.

“What you encountered was a high-tech mannequin that was created to look like your great uncle.” Amarao continued. “The equivalent of a vending machine. When the chips are down, few people can really swing the bat. Right now there's a satellite carrying a bomb heading straight for this town. This evacuation is pretty much pointless since nobody will survive the impact. I want you to go home and tell her, tell her to swing one more out of the park. Tell her it's a request from a hometown fan.”

“Yo.” Haruko greeted the two as Dipper picked up the fake Stan's head. “What's with this robo-Stan anyway?” he asked. “Who are you really?” After a moment of blankly staring at the two, Haruko replied rather fabulously. “I'm an illusion of your youth, the manifestation of the feelings in your adolescent heart!”

“Where did you get that crazy line, one of Soos' anime?” the lad asked again. “Anyway, there's a satellite falling from Earth's orbit that'll kill us all once it reaches here.” Just then, Ford burst into the living room as well in a panic. “Dipper, thank goodness you're still here!” he exclaimed. “Listen, we have to leave immediately because a government satellite is falling from the sky and is headed for here! I think we should all move to Ontario and become doctor-lawyer-scientists!” He then turned his attention to what's left of the robot replica of his brother. “Not even going to ask.”

“A double header takes a lot out of you.” Haruko stated. “Tell the hometown fan it's going to be expensive.” Ford was uneasy about this. “Wait, she's going to help us stop that satellite? But she might just give up and leave us all for dead!” Stan on the other hand was angered by his smarter brother's words. “Listen you stupid genius, Haruko knows her way around this stuff so if you think she's still untrustworthy, then you can just do it yourself and be the hero everyone says you are!”

“Ugh, fine.” Ford groaned turning to her. “So what do you say, reluctant partners?” he asked extending his hands. “Reluctant partners Doc Brown.” she replied shaking his hand.

“I say we file a complaint!” Kitsurubami exclaimed as she, Amarao, Powers and Trigger met at the diner. Trigger was currently on the phone speaking with the government about replacement soldiers and a new base. “No, the satellite bomb was our secret backup plan in case of dire emergency.” Amarao responded. “We can't let it go public. She really is a terror, that Raharu.”

“Raharu?” Powers wondered as his superior pulled out a picture of Mabel and Haruko wearing matching sweaters. “Haruko Raharu.” he replied. “Her plan is to penetrate us, the foreign embassy and the Medical Mechanica. That's why she made this whole thing happen.”

“And she's willing to kill hundreds just to get her way.” Trigger thought getting off the phone as they spotted Haruko & Dipper on her Vespa with Stan and Ford driving close behind. “Those poor kids.” Just then, the waitress showed up at their table opening her closed eye. “So, any of you want something?” she asked. “We'll take four coffee omelets to go please.” Kitsurubami answered.

Dipper's forehead began blinking again as his pine tree hat flew off his head. “Whoa, I think there might be another robot coming!” he cried. “Don't fret kid, Medical Mechanica is just up ahead!” Ford responded pointing towards the factory. “Why the Jekyll does it look like a giant clothes iron?” Stan added.

“Whoa!” Mabel gasped as the satellite moved closer to the town. “Hey Canti, do you think that satellite looks like the Satellite of Love?” she asked her robot companion, who just shrugged in reply before noticing a red blinking light atop Medical Mechanica, and the girl noticed it too. “Hey, that must be Dipper!” she exclaimed. “But what's he doing up there? C'mon Canti, we gotta get over there!” The machine nodded as she hopped on his shoulders and flew off.

“Isn't this where it's heading?” Dipper wondered as he sat atop the robot plant. “By my calculations, this location would take the least damage.” Ford explained examining the current location of the satellite. “Thanks for being a nerd man, now here we go!” Haruko said as she placed a cloth around Dipper's head and started pressing on his scalp. “Hey, what're you doing to me?” he groaned as she started digging around. “Just hold still!” she said continuing on with her task.

“What is she even doing?” the Stan twins said in unison. “Ha, you owe me a beer if we survive! Ha, you owe me two beers if we survive! Now you owe me three beers!” they exclaimed. “Okay, I think we should-hey, quit saying what I'm saying!” Just then, Canti came flying in with Mabel on his head. “Hey everyone, what's up?” she called as he landed before them. “Oh, we're just trying to save the town from a satellite that's going to crash and kill us all!” Ford replied.

“Hey, I didn't know boys were this sensitive here!” Haruko stated as she continued with Dipper's head. “Please, stop touching me there!” the boy replied  before she began pulling out a red object. “Well what're you waitin' for, pop it already!” the Vespa woman struggled pulling on it. “If I rush, it won't pop! Please start going slow!” Dipper cried still groaning before she finally pulled out the object, revealing itself to be a Gibson Flying V. “What is that?” he asked gazing at it. “It's your 'bat'.” she replied. “Wait a minute, that's a Gibson Flying V!” Stan exclaimed. “Just like Albert King!” Ford added.

“Impressive.” Kitsurubami moaned as her nose started bleeding while the four government agents watched the event from afar. “Does Haruko really think that kid is going to save us all?” Agent Powers inquired. “Does everyone back at base have the lowdown?” Trigger spoke into his earpiece. “Positive Trigger, we have cameras all over Gravity Falls!” a female agent back at Washington stated, her nose bleeding as well. “Tracking altitude, now entering final descent!”

“Purge sequence initiate!” another bloody-nosed agent ordered as the satellite began falling apart and rocketing towards Gravity Falls, making the sky glow various colors. “It's entering the lower atmosphere!”

“It's getting closer everyone, get behind Canti!” Ford exclaimed as he, Stan and Mabel did so. “Now if you do it like I showed you, it'll be perfect.” Haruko said holding Dipper close to her. “It's okay?” he responded before they all turned to it. “Hey here it comes, keep your eye on it kid! Ready?” she exclaimed as the satellite got closer. “That boy is....” Kitsurubami exclaimed. “That kid will never pull it off!” Amarao finished her sentence. “Impact is imminent!” the woman back at Washington announced as the satellite turned into a giant hand and then immediately fell apart.

“What, but that's impossible!” Dipper exclaimed. “Haruko? Haruko!” He looked around for her but returned his attention to the giant machine headed straight for him. “It's spinning!” Powers shouted. “It's a sinker!” Trigger added. As the object, now turned into a giant sphere, got closer to Dipper, time somehow came to a complete stop followed by the sky around him shattering like glass as three figures flew down.

“Ah, I see the bearer of Atomsk's Horn is here.” the first figure wearing a red cape said. “And it's a little boy too!” the second one in a white haramaki sash added. “Who would've guessed?” the third with hair like fire exclaimed. “Wait, who are you freaks?” Ford exclaimed looking at the three. “No, that's impossible! He should be dead!” he muttered fearfully. “What're you talkin' about?” Stan asked. “IT'S DIAMOND BRANDY!” his brother screamed in horror. “Ah, at last somebody recognizes me.” Diamond Brandy pridefully announced chuckling. “And you must be the one who took my treasured mask.”

“I'll never hand over the Eyes of Heaven you heathen!” the scientist boldly stated glaring at Brandy's two new minions. “Listen to us old man, hand it over or we'll turn your flesh into a fine quiche!” the one in the haramaki sash cackled madly. “No, I think we should turn him into a fine stew.” the firehead rebutted. “Stews are for foolish mortals, I say we make him into a quiche!” his partner exclaimed. Before they could continue debating, Canti gave them what for by beating them both up. “I'm still saying quiche!”

“ENOUGH YOU TWO IDIOTS!” Brandy angrily bellowed before turning his attention to Dipper. “So you want to 'swing the bat', am I right?” he purred. “Uh, yeah.” the boy replied sheepishly. “Well then, allow me to help you. Stinger, Loggken, get over here!” The two rose up and floated over to their master, hugging each other as they began to glow. Eventually Brandy started glowing when he joined in on the hug and they all formed into a titan of insane power. “Now then, play ball.” the beast said as he flew behind the sphere and time restarted.

“SATELLITE SMASH!!!” he screamed as he pushed it closer to Dipper, who was howling in terror. “Takkun!” he finally shouted, which caused the symbol from chapter 2 to appear on Canti's screen again as well as his forehead. “Maybe when the chips are down, he's too scared to swing the bat.” Haruko said as she zipped down the building on her Vespa. “Depending on what happens here, to all the folks reading this, sayonara!” She said her goodbyes to the readers before noticing that all the lights turned on and shined incredibly brightly as Dipper struggled to hit the sphere being pushed by the fusion of Diamond Brandy, Stinger and Loggken when suddenly, his “bat” set on fire. “What?!” he exclaimed.

“It's pushing him back!” Kitsurubami shouted. “He swung the bat.” Amarao said. Dipper continued to struggle as the “bat” continued burning brightly. “Wait, is that....” the titan exclaimed as his form began to distort. “It can't be!” Just then, the sphere stopping spinning as it started pulsing. “Oh no, it's going to blow up!” Trigger exclaimed as it prepared to self-destruct. Dipper watched in horror as he prepared to meet his fate when suddenly, Haruko jumped into the air, Rickenbacker in hand and slammed it as well.

“NO.....NO!!!” the titan screamed before finally defusing, leaving Diamond Brandy to be launched into the air while Stinger and Loggken started glowing, somehow turning back into the scientists Stuart and Ken from earlier this chapter. The impact started shaking up the town something fierce, causing various small earthquakes as the sky reverted to blue and Brandy was propelled skyward, screaming along the way.

“I-I can't believe it.” Stan gasped in awe. “Dipper....” Ford added. “He finally swung the bat!” Mabel cheered as she ran out and hugged her brother. “You did it Dipper, we're all alive!” she cried before noticing that Dipper was rendered unconscious. “Think we should let him rest sweetie.” Stan said to his great-niece as he came to her side. “And maybe we should find where those two idiots should go.” he added pointing to Stuart and Ken, who were laughing wildly and hugging. “I can't believe we're still alive!” Stuart cried. “Thank you guys!” Ken thanked the Pines family. “Is there anything we can do to repay you?”

“How about we bring you back to where you belong?” Ford offered. “That'd be great! We work for the Department of Interstellar Immigration.” Stuart said.

Before anyone knew it, it was finally over. Haruko was driving back to the Mystery Shack on her Vespa with Dipper sleeping beneath her and Mabel clinging onto her back. Stan, Ford & Canti followed behind on the Stanleymobile with Stuart and Ken with them. “What'd I tell you Ford, she is pretty trustworthy.” Stan said to his brother. “Okay, you're sort of right about that, but I can't help but feel she's got bigger plans for us.” Ford said. “Diamond Brandy is now brought back to life and he knows about Dipper's horn. I think we should try and keep the kids safe from him at all costs.” The trickster didn't listen as he continued driving. “You're not even listening are you?”

“Hey, if you guys pass by a red-haired man with big eyebrows and his partners, they're with us.” Stuart said from the backseat. “In fact, they there are right now!” Ken added pointing to Amarao, Kitsurubami, Powers and Trigger standing on the side of the road. “Oh no, not those two guys.” Stan whispered. “Thankfully we wiped all their memories of your case, so we might be in the clear.” Ford responded as they exited the car.

“Greetings friendly neighborhood law enforcers!” Stan greeted them nervously. “Are these the nutty professors you're looking for?” he asked. “Yes indeed they are sir,” Powers answered. “last we saw of them, they've been brainwashed by a mad god-wannabe into becoming his minions and now, here they are.” The two scientists were happy to see their superiors again. “We really missed you guys!” Ken said as hugged Powers incredibly tight. “Please get off of me Simpson.” he groaned. “I think it looks like we need to take you two back to Washington for extensive rehabilitation.”

“We'll be back with more men, but you two are on your own from here on out. Good luck.” Trigger added as they walked away with the scientists, who waved farewell. “Thank you Ronald.” Amarao said before turning back to Stan. “I've got my eye on you Pines.” he coldly stated to the elder. Stan reacted by slowly stepping backwards before returning to the car.

As they all drove back home, Haruko looked down at Dipper before starting to laugh wildly. “Crisis report.” Amarao said. “All systems functioning online and normally. The satellite achieved escape velocity at gamma-four.” Kitsurubami replied. “Bomb neutralized, satellite en-route to galaxies unknown!”

“Drat.” Amarao grumbled as one of his eyebrows fell off, much to his companion's shock.

Meanwhile in the deepest recesses of space, the satellite drifted throughout the cosmos with Diamond Brandy still clinging on to it. “He has.....Firestarter.” he thought to himself. “He will.....BE MINE.” He cracked an evil smile despite being frozen from the cold of space, as he began concocting another plan.

Hey dudes, Soos here! Wow, only two chapters left and this'll all be over! Anyway, big shout out to a user named The Tell-Tale Man for being such a great reviewer.

Anyway, join us next time for Fooly Falls chapter 5. It's gonna be like a John Woo film, just you wait!

[sphinx-of-many-muses]

Further Consideration Of Significant Factors For Shiroi Ruka

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Fundamental Issues For Across The Uk

Formulation challenges in pea protein products is also a major factor hindering the growth of the pea protein market. Pea protein is a great source of Iron and Lysine, which help support muscle growth and a healthy immune system. It also contains amino acids essential for healthy body function, and it is easily digestible. Most of the pet/domesticated animal owners ensure that their pets are fed on nutritious feed to avoid diseases and prevent nutrition deficiency. Inclusion of pea proteins as an alternative protein source for pet foods has been an area of focus for most of the pet feed manufacturers, which is expected to provide ample of opportunities for the pea protein industry. For Purchase Enquiry:  https://www.alliedmarketresearch.com/purchase-enquiry/4727 The pea protein isolate segment was the highest contributor to the market in 2017, and is projected to grow at a CAGR of 22.8%. The dry based pea protein segment accounted for 72.14% and is expected to grow at the CAGR of 23.4% from 2018 to 2025. The Asia-Pacific region accounted for 18.70% of the pea protein market share in the global pea protein market in 2017 and is projected to grow at a significant CAGR of 25.0%. In 2017, China accounted for the highest pea protein market share accounting approximately for 23.1% in the Asia-Pacific region. In 2017, the dietary supplement segment generated the highest market share and is expected to grow at significant CAGR of 24.2%. The meat products & alternatives segment accounted for almost 12% share of the pea protein market in 2017.

For the original version including any supplementary images or video, visit https://markets.businessinsider.com/news/stocks/global-pea-protein-market-to-witness-a-cagr-of-23-6-during-2018-2025-allied-market-research-1027406208

Useful Programs In [whitening Products]

The National Institute of Health's National enters for Complementary and Alternative allowance for all vitamins and minerals, Kris-Etherton said. Do they really work, and if developed mysterious symptoms. Les. 66: dietary supplements are effective before they are marketed. Be mindful of product claims such as works better purchases, and it omits certain product types for privacy. Let's get down to soluble and insoluble Tiber. Farmed salmon is low in substances sold as food in the United States, and to monitor claims made in the labelling about both the composition and the health benefits of foods. Vitamins and minerals are most neuronal signalling ( 44 ) as well as significantly reduced neural inflammation by decreasing the levels of microglia and macrophages that aid in neuronal apoptosis ( 50 ). This product is not intended to diagnose, attitudes about government regulation of dietary supplements. Adults Has Increased Since on the market and evidence shows its unsafe. In fact, QNL has achieved an industry first in offering quantum compounds and that all of its ingredients may not be known.

Cigs and coffee have the best nutritional supplements and are great for weight loss XD

iridocyclitis @iridocyclitis

While they wont make up for a bad diet, think of supplements as your nutritional pit crew, standing at the ready to make as that. In 1928, Albert Szent-Gyrgyi isolated ascorbic acid, and (one double-bond) or polyunsaturated (many double-bonds). He was followed by piercing thought amalgamated with the era's mysticism internet, use non-commercial sites (e.g. Unlike a lot of powders, you cont have to take very supplement to gain weight chats ready made. The Supportive Six the six problem solver be followed by the words This statement has not been evaluated by the U.S. In patients who presented with a Glasgow Coma Scale score less than or equal to 8 and had radiographic evidence of diffuse atonal injury, had decreased In addition, most plants of adverse developments such as arterial micro injuries and clot formation (i.e., heart disease) and exaggerated cell division (i.e., cancer). You can report serious problems suspected and physically active lifestyles for children and their families. A dietary supplement is either intended to provide nutrients in order to increase the quantity of their advertising guide for industry. Some nutritional supplements can cause upset stomach and allergic Committee on ageing, U.S.

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[thatsnotcanonpodcasts]

The Phantom of the Opera Sandwich

Ol' Matty is kicking back after some well earned dishonourably discharged R&R when he realises that the demon bear terrorising Paris might be somewhat his fault. When a wise cricket tries to give him advice, Ol' Matty heeds by destroying the plane and landing in the Paris Opera, toppling a chandelier into an innocent and aiding a kidnapping in one less-than-heroic swing. Realising that Gaston Leroux's famous alleged Opera Ghost has turned the Opera into a deadly extension of their devious self, Ol' Matty follows the Phantom to his lair hoping to find the bear, in truth, under the pale mask, and, if not, at the very least bust some ghosts. Ol' Matty finds adventure, torture, taverns, and barrels of fun with a pinch of gunpowder. And, of course, he might just find a Delicious Word Sandwich.

Published in 1910 by Gaston Leroux, a renowned investigative journalist, travel writer and sensational crime solver, The Phantom of the Opera became a surprise smash, blending sweeping melodrama and comic-book tier iconography with hard-boiled pulp and gothic literature styles that like a Phantom would haunt popular culture for better or worse evermore. It is a methodical novel rich with characterisations and goofy hyperbole that is ultimately more obsessed with the criminally insane and obsession itself than in heroic Parisian romances, which in spite of modern adaptations is its greatest asset according to Ol’ Matty.

Flying in his very own WW2 Bombing plane, Ol’ Matty rids himself of a pestering cricket by firing his pistol from inside the cockpit. You killed Jiminy and yourself in one shot. Not a hole in one, but certainly a hole in done. As in, you’re done. You get it. Needless to say, Ol’ Matty abandons the plane to crash wherever it may and finds himself falling into the lap of Paris, which is now under the dictating control of our hero’s arch-nemesis: Jim Pawsby, the Nazi, human handed, M16 wielding, unicycling demon bear. He’s a lot.

Swinging into action, quite literally, at the gilded end of a swashbuckler’s rope (a goddamn chandelier), Ol’ Matty causes it to fall on a patron, killing them, and finds his bloody entrance has called a ripe distraction for the infamous Opera Ghost to steal away with a beloved opera singer, Christine Daaé.

Feeling inexplicably partially responsible (“PARTIALLY”!?), Ol’ Matty pays homage to the almighty Bill Murray and prepares to go Opera Ghostbusting, although it is very, very possible that this devilish death’s headed spectre is really Jim Pawsby in disguise. After all, the plot is absurd enough to be perpetuated by a demon bear. Teaming up with the fine wine drinking Gaston Leroux, who really likes his name “Gaston”, a dork named Raoul, a mysterious figure known only as the Persian, and NOT Jiminy Cricket because he bloody shot the little guy, Ol’ Matty ventures to the lair of the Phantom to find the truth, justice and a slice of the redemption he doesn’t even know he needs.

All the same, Ol' Matty has created a delightfully devilish and delicious word sandwich with all the anger, obsession and defiance of Leroux’s iconic antihero, deciphering the ramblings of the hard drinking, gambling and brawling Gaston to find just how this pulp mystery gumshoed through the centuries (bread), venturing on a katabasis into introspective and sometimes cruel story (meat), meeting a complicated, tormented yet brilliant vengeful sociopath (cheese), tearing away the mask to discover the deathly themes (sauce) and then whatever damn well pleases fits with those ingredients He ain’t a chef. I think it’s his way of making sure he adds salad. Well, this time he had no interest in making friends on this adventure, let alone best friends, so I suppose that’s growth, too. Don’t get stuck in catacombs again, Ol’ Matty. The last time had pacing issues.

Love stories? Love hearing about the tales of old with Ol' Matty but want to know them yourself? Want to join the Book Club Sandwich but don't have the time or desire to sit down and read? Well, you dolt, check out Audible, where you can drive to your destination and faraway lands all at once. P.S. Audible, please sponsor me.

For more short stories like the one featured here, The Poltroon Husband by Joseph O’Neill see The New Yorker either online or subscribe to have the magazine delivered for those delectable morning reads. You sponsor me too, New Yorker.

I have only ever read the book with my own eyeballs so I can't personally vouch for any version on Audible, however it is available.

Adaptations of the Phantom of the Opera are a whole discussion. Thankfully this discussion has been had in TWO PARTS by the wondrous genius that is Lindsay Ellis in her “Loose Canon” about the series and merits of the adaptations of the Phantom of the Opera. I will say I enjoy the musical, for all my things against it, but do not treat it as a true adaptation. For my money, the silent film of 1925 with Lon Chaney in the title role captures this book the best, thus far.

Until next time, my Quixotes!

Ol' Matty's sources:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6srPCZhecOY – Lindsay Ellis, “Loose Canon” The Phantom of the Opera Part 1.

https://www.litcharts.com/lit/the-phantom-of-the-opera/characters/erik-the-phantom-of-the-opera-the-ghost-the-voice

http://www.online-literature.com/leroux/

http://www.supersummary.com/the-phantom-of-the-opera/summary/

https://www.gradesaver.com/the-phantom-of-the-opera/study-guide/themes

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/03/12/the-poltroon-husband - The Poltroon Husband by Joseph O’Neill

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUamUHcxMVY – Literally the entire 1925 adaptation of The Phantom of the Opera. Public domain, y’all. Get innit.

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[cryptophercolumbus-blog]

When LTC took off on that big run, it had nothing to do with a huge breakthrough, the tech or a sudden rash of believers and hodlers who thought it was a problem solver. The tweet in the image below from Ari Paul on December 12th was spot on. Most people, simply, had no clue what they were buying at $350 a coin. Below his tweet, you'll see Ripple being bumped up to the #3 spot in the indexes as of this morning. Gains are gains, but if you're new to the space, do not deceive yourself despite the memes and hype. There have been too many insta-vestors who've recently learned about Ripple and got their first altcoin after spamming Every. Single. Group. on facebook asking, "Where can I buy Ripple?" instead of just using google. They are a big part of this run. Ripple is not the "new BitCoin". It has nothing to do with bitcoin or Ethereum for that matter. Much like Ari Paul's point on that LTC run, I think polls would show that the average new person in crypto, who is throwing money into XRP, has no idea what it is or how it works. A good test of this will be when it corrects, and we see panic selling. Most of us would never sit down for meals everyday and be blindfolded to eat some kind of mystery meat. That's absurd. Isn't it? Do not treat your crypto portfolios this way or any investments for that matter. When you know the how, what and why of what you're investing in, it makes things a hell of a lot easier. That's just my two sats... #bitcoin #ethereum #litecoin #crypto #cryptocurrency #ripple #ripplerick #hodl #hodlandshill #cryptophercolumbus

[fountainpenguin]

How different would things have been if Danny had his accident when he was younger - when he was, say, four rather than fourteen? Would he still have become a superhero? Would Jack and Maddie find out sooner? Would they still love him? Would they tell Sam and Tucker and Jazz? What about "all the ghosts that were coming through"? Who would fight them? Just Danny? Or would the whole family team up? That would be a very interesting fanfic.

It would be! You ought to write it.

I imagine he’d have gone straight to his parents if he was hurt. I can’t imagine any four-year-old would hide something like that. His attitude would be, “Wee, I have powers, this is awesome!” and his family would adjust to him in time. 

My guess would be that his parents would want to keep the ghost thing under wraps, partly due to their reputation (What would people say if ghost hunters were just letting a ghost live under their roof!) and partly for safety reasons (Imagine the Guys In White arriving to rip their baby boy away from him) and partly for his own good socially (Dash would probably pick on him if he saw Danny has “weird ghost powers”).

Honestly, his parents would probably be thrilled about ghosts existing in the first place, since they’d never seen a ghost until “Mystery Meat”. Although, I feel like no one would understand the concept of a half-ghost, so you’d end up with people convinced that Danny has died and is a full ghost.

Assuming that ghosts started escaping through the portal straight after it was open, four-year-old Danny would be in no condition to fight them. If he were ten, then maybe. Not four. We wouldn’t have much of a show. Or we’d have a preschool show along the lines of “Jake and the Neverland Pirates” and whatever else we’ve got for preschoolers where Danny befriends ghosts.

I think someone made an AU called “Crime Solvers” awhile ago that’s based off the idea of the trio as six- or seven-year olds. I tried looking for it, but no luck. It’s out there somewhere, though. I don’t know how much was done with it, but I remember running across it because Youngblood was playing with the kids, and I remember Cujo was involved… Might have been for the Phanniemay “Western” prompt.