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You’re STANLEY PARBLE: a girl with a weird name and an even weirder tale: after a CENTURIES-OLD LICH woke up during your graveyard shift at the GOOD BOY DOGGIE BONE factory, your simple life of janitorial work became a bit more… Complicated.
https://youtu.be/_wiwdlu-Zg0
Sure, you became pals with your now-sentient skeleton (you named him LY) AND gained some nifty SUPER POWERS from eating MAGICAL BONE MARROW, but that doesn’t change the fact that your hometown of CLEARWATER, CALIFORNIA is overrun by HOMICIDAL SKELETONS! Even worse, the guy in charge is dead-set on taking over the rest of the world while he’s at it! Not cool!

At long last and to no surprise to anyone, least of all yourself, your enemies lie strewn about you in ruin like busted toys in a toddler’s nursery. Having dealt with TIM’S LIEUTENANTS, the foul lich’s phylacteries and fiendish capos in his plan to take over the world, all that remains now is the big cheese himself–his unholy highness plotting no-doubt wicked plots in his FLOATING FORTRESS looming in the ash-choked skies above you. Needless to say, getting up there and kicking his bony ass will be about as easy as vacuuming up that layer of gunk that builds up between carpet and flooring. No small feat.

Fortunately you’re not alone! Between your loyal croni-err, friends, the demon doppelganger NATS you just picked up, and a growing army of dissident skeletons led by your rockabilly bro CLIFF, you might just have a chance at cleaning up this mess–or at the very least looking cool failing! Fingers crossed!

Speaking of, your skeletroop picked tonight of all nights to throw a BONEY BASH up at the old DRIVE-IN–no doubt a last hurrah before the final battle begins! That’s what you thought, at least, until your old pal STRIPES called shouting about an EMERGENCY!

Racing to your trusty VAN like a dog about to go to the park, THIS is where your story continues...

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5340923
Welcome to BONES QUEST--yea, we can’t believe this lasted this long either! Make sure to check out the following resources:

Archive Link to catch up with the story!
>https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Bones%20Quest

Twitter account for updates!
>https://twitter.com/DemBonez3

Imgur Page for quest and FAN ART! You make it, we display it! Running a little behind on my end because the website sucks, but I’ll catch up eventually!
>https://imgur.com/a/dvF3SCN

A HANDY PASTEBIN for INVENTORY, SKILLS, and MORE:
>https://pastebin.com/u/DemBonez3/1/TvtRhtJK

Rolls are handled by a 1d100--I take the BEST OF THREE ROLLS! Certain boosts and maluses will be applied based on the situation and existing skills. Describing your actions, write-ins, FANART and GENERAL CREATIVITY are all APPRECIATED AND REWARDED--we like to keep things LIGHT and CHILL here, so come on in and have some fun!

>CONTD.
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>>5340924
STAN! HEY!
“Where’s she going?”
“Oh godDAMN it…”
https://youtu.be/HEf9x7-NYrk
NO TIME! GET TO THE VAN! Ignoring your friend’s shouts, you scamper towards where you think you left the van with your RADIO pressed firmly against your cheek! Pressing the ‘SEND’ button down, you respond to Stripes with a frantic ‘WHAAAAT DIIIID YOUUUU SAAAAAAY???!?

“Is dat’ Stripes?” Ly asks as you vault over a line of barrels. “Hey, tell him I say hi, cupcake.”

NO!

“Yea, it’s an EMERGENCY!” Repeats the skelegreaser’s voice through the radio’s speaker! “The party, sis! It’s da’ party!”

Darting around the corner of a shipping container, you manage to skid to a halt just before running off the docks and into the dark, choppy sea water below! Would it kill the assholes running this place to put up a guardrail or something!?

Frantically scanning the night-shrouded port for any sign of your wheels, your eyes come up empty–it’s too dark! Where the hell did those idiots park!?

A party? I’ve never been to one of those!” Chirps NATS, your body’s newest demonic tenant. “Shouldn’t we be wearing something, err… flashier?

“Stan uh… Stan don’t do ‘flashy’.” Replies your obnoxious skeleton’s disembodied voice.

Spotting a line of skiffs and dinghies moored in a line below, you think you can make out the outline of your van just across the way! If you could just hop across here, well…

ROLL ME 1d100+10 (BUNNY SUIT+5, DEMON STRENGTH+5, BONE SPEED+5, EMU LEGS+5, CHOPPY WATERS-10) TO NINJA ACROSS WITHOUT LOOKING LIKE A FRIGGIN’ IDIOT! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>5340932

Let's try to stick that landing again.
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>5340932

Time to roll!!!
>>
Rolled 55 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5340932
>>
>>5340936
>>5340949
>>5340971
>HIGHEST ROLL: 83!

Writing!
>>
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No time to think here, you reason as you leap off the edge towards the nearest skiff! Though you land like a cat in the boat, your sudden appearance causes the whole thing to bob and drift against its moorings–almost as if it’s TRYING to shake you off! The nerve!

STAN, WAIT, DAMN IT!

By the time you hear Art’s plaintive cries, you’re already halfway across your ad hoc bridge! Skipping from skiff to skiff like they were stepping stones, you’re nearly shaken off a few times, but you hold it together! Hopping back onto the docks with one last leap, your rubber boots land on the pavement with a muffled ‘squeak’ as you shout for Art to shut the hell up and get everyone to the van! You’re on a MISSION!

YEA, BU-

Man, one of these days these dingbats are gonna have to learn to listen, you snarl! Sprinting towards where you last saw the outline of the van, you take the opportunity to ask Stripes just what the hell kind of emergency he’s talking about! If they’re all out of booze already-

“Nah, the booze is fine!” He replies with relief in his slightly-staticy voice, “But the party… the party’s already STARTED!

Turning the corner and faceplanting against the derelict ice cream truck you mistook for your VAN, you shrug off the dull ’TONG!’ of the impact and take a moment to send an incredulous look into the radio’s speaker.

HUH!?

“And… and you’re not HERE!” Stripes concludes before bursting into raucous and EXTREMELY ANNOYING laughter! Sliding down the side of the truck into a sitting position, you try and fail to blink away your growing irritation as you sputter a response:

Is… is he retarded?

“Hey, it’s a real emergency, alright?” Stripes wheezes over the sound of fellow skeletons hooting and laughing behind him! “You went through all that trouble puttin' this whole bash together–just wouldn’t be right if ya’ didn’t make it!”

As you barely resist the urge to huck the radio into the sea, you tell your old pal through clenched teeth that you were BUSY!

“... wait, you mean… it’s done?” He asks with genuine surprise in his voice. “No kiddin’, sis?”

No kiddin’, you nod as you spot Sybil, Art, and Gus rushing over to where you’re sitting–the former blinking in and out of existence, the later practically carrying Art over his shoulder.

“... Yea, now you REALLY gotta come over!” Stripes adds in an awestruck tone. “Can’t talk about it over the uh… the line, dig?”

He’s the idiot who called you, you snap! You don’t need a lecture on privacy here!

“Didja’ tell him I said ‘hi’ yet?”

NO, Ly, you DIDN’T!

“Is dat’ Ly? Hey, tell him I said ‘hi!’”

Can you tell him I said ‘hi’ too?

NO!

... so you DON’T mind, or-

SHH!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5341061
“Alright, sis, I’m sorry, okay?” Stripes continues as your three friends skid around the corner of a nearby shipping container ready for a scrap! “I just… we’re all really excited for dis shindig, is all.”

Yea, you can tell, you mutter, waving off Art’s questioning glance. So they’re good, then? No sudden attacks? No overpowering craving to kill humans?

“Nope… aaaaand nope!” Stripes replies in his perpetually-chipper tone! “Got da’ tunes all set up an’ more fun than ya’ can shake a stick at! All da’ guys pitched in settin’ up–place looks like a boneafide fairground right now!”

“Hate to interrupt the chat,” Sybil says, deftly interrupting the chat, “But why exactly are we running off to an ice cream truck?”

It’s a long story.

“They got any ice cream sandwiches in there?” Gus asks as he raises a bushy eyebrow at the abandoned vehicle. Responding with a shrug, you continue your conversation with Stripes as Gus begins rummaging around in the back of the truck. So, you huff, did he really just call to see when you’re coming?

“... well yea...” The skeleton mutters sheepishly. “I know it sounds stupid, but dis’ thing means a lot to us guys… an’ if what you said is true, it won’t be long before it all, well, ends, dig?”

Yep, you nod, idly drumming your fingers on the radio. You dig.

“Well look, we’re gonna be goin’ for da’ rest of the night!” Stripes continues with renewed enthusiasm in his voice! “An’ if I’M not enough of a reason for ya’, you’ve got a couple other cats who wanted ta’ see you too.”

Yea? You ask, raising an eyebrow. Who?

“Well…” Replies the voice in the radio…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5341064
“There’s WYATT T, course.” The skeleton explains with a knowing chuckle. “That big lug’s been achin’ ta’ see you for a while now… there’s those PIRATES ya picked up–includin’ those two brothers that keep tryin’ ta’ kill each other…”

ANDRE, you nod. You’re surprised that guy’s still alive, to be honest!

“Not fer’ lack of tryin’. Lessee, we’ve got the SOLDIER BOYS, those guys have been real helpful, oh, an’ a whole bunch of folks from JOPLIN! Guess some of ‘em were tired of playin’ cowboy in the desert.”

That must mean GRAMPS too!

“Yep. Cat’s a mean ole’ hound dog, sis. Oh, an’ CLIFF! He’s been really keen on chattin’ with ya.”

Yeah, well get in line, you snap! You’ve got a lot of stuff on your plate, okay?

“Don’t I know it. Well look, kid, HAULIE PAULIE’S been talkin’ too a-”

Holy shit, HAULIE-PAULIE’S gonna be there?!

THE HAULIE PAULIE?” Sybil hisses as an excited grin forms on her pale face!

Really?!” Art adds with childlike delight!

“No way…” Gus mutters mid-rummage from within the ice cream truck.

“Yep–he’s practically runnin’ the show!” Stripes boasts. “Still got stuff on your plate?”

“There IS dat GALA bein’ put on by that creep CURT an’ his magic pals…” Ly remarks as you contemplate your response, “But dat’ crap started ages ago–probably windin’ down by now.”

What say ye?
>HOLD TIGHT, STRIPES–WE’RE ON THE WAY!
>WAIT A SEC: YOU’VE GOT SOME QUESTIONS FIRST!
>CAN’T PROMISE YOU’LL MAKE IT–STILL GOT SOME STUFF TO DO!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5341068
>HOLD TIGHT, STRIPES–WE’RE ON THE WAY!

Still we should give Blumkrantz a status report at some point
>>
>>5341068
>HOLD TIGHT, STRIPES–WE’RE ON THE WAY!

We should make Art report to Blumencratz, make him earn that second in command spot.
>>
>>5341068
>>HOLD TIGHT, STRIPES–WE’RE ON THE WAY!
>>
>>5341080
>>5341125
>>5341138
>HOLD TIGHT!

Writing!
>>
>>5341125
I like the way this guy thinks.
>>
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He had you at HAULIE PAULIE. Giving your radio a nod, you quickly follow up with a ‘we’re on the way, buddy!’ when it dawns on you that he probably can’t see what you’re doing.

“Now that’s the best news I’ve heard all night, kid!” Stripes cheers as a few other voices join him in the background! “And uh, don’t worry about the BIG CHEESE– Cliff reached out to him earlier and set up a chat. Should be over an’ done by the time you guys show up.”

Hold on, you snarl, does that mean TIM’S gonna be there!?

“Nah, sis, he tunes in with that magic of his, dig? It’s all been handled!” Stripes explains, clearly not bothered by it. “Trust me on this one: Cliff’s got it all figured out!”

Fine, you reply with your classic eye roll, just… just keep us in the loop, kay?

“You betcha, sis!” Stripes replies confidently. “Gotta run–think some of the guys wanna ride the HELICOPTER an’ guess who finally got his pilot’s license? Did uh… did I mention one of those soldier guys was teachin’ me?”

Oh shit, you forgot about that! Yea, you nod, all prior wariness fading away almost instantly, is he gonna give you a ride or what?!

“Only if ya’ get over here soon, sis!” He replies with a laugh! “Seats are goin’ fast…”

Oh ho ho, you reply, then save a nice one, cuz’ you’re already on the way! Concluding with a curt ‘OVER AND OUT,’ you immediately toss the device into Art’s unsuspecting chest! Think fast, nerd!

ACK!” He sputters as his reflexes kick in just in time to clumsily grab the radio, “What’s uh… what’s going on, Stan?”

What’s going on, you reply as you rise from your seat, is that you’ve got a date with a HELICOPTER! Oh, and the party. We’re heading there now, by the way.

“Is that why you ran off?” Sybil asks as Gus emerges from the truck with a handful of what appears to be candy bars.

Yep, you nod, taking a bar wordlessly offered to you by Gus’ outstretched hand, but apparently they moved the damn van! That or those stupid SKELANIMALS moved it-

“The van wasn’t moved, you dork,” Art huffs impatiently, “You ran off in the completely wrong direction.”

You respond with a blink. Uhhh, so sure of that, is he?

“So sure I am, yes.” The Rent-A-Cop frowns before pointing his finger back where you came from. “Mitzi and Talbot picked us all up near where you parked the van–right down that way.”

“Bike’s over there too.” Gus adds.

What the hell, you scoff, did everyone know and just forget to tell you or something?

“No, you just ran off like an escaped animal.” Art sighs.

Well would it kill them to catch you!?

“Probably, yea. You know how you get.”

“He’s got a point, cupcake.”

Yea, well…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5341305
“Ya’ get all that energy out, boss?”

Ignoring Mitzi’s snarky remark, you return to where you docked the yacht you uh… ‘borrowed’ to find the rest of your team milling about like a bunch of lost tourists. Before you can say anything, you feel four sharp claws climb their way up your calf and back before a small, black hand snatches the candy bar out from your grasp! Swiping at the treat, your hand goes long as LIL’ STANLEY, your ‘pet’ in name only, leaps from your shoulders and scampers into the shadows with her fat ringed tail flitting behind her!

She’s happy to be back on land, huh?” Eddie remarks as he, Tucker, and Kiki approach with Denise lingering close behind. “What’s up, Stan?”

What’s up, you reply as Gus hands you a replacement candy bar, is that you’ve lingered here long enough–and after much consideration, you continue, you believe the team deserves a reward!

“Cash?!” Guesses Talbot!
“The night off?!” Tries Tucker!
“Monogrammed leather jackets?” Shrugs Mitz!
T-t-talking pr-privileges?” Squeaks Denise!

No, sorta, you’ll think about it, and what the hell, you finish with a confused look on your face, you never told her she couldn’t talk!

O-oh… m-must have r-read th-the room wrong! A-again! hheheh…” Mutters the perpetually-sweaty scientist. Wait a sec–you can revoke her talking privileges!

“So what’s the reward, huh?” Eddie asks as he practically bounces off the ground with excitement! “Tell us!”

You’re getting there, dick! As they might already know, you explain, Cliff and the rest of the Greaser Skeletons have been putting together a shindig up at their base–turns out it’s happening tonight and everyone’s invited!

“E-everyone?” Asks your new skeleton mage pal Teevor as he and his associate Rohdi exchange confused looks. Oh right, they’re still here! Yea, you nod, they’re gonna love it!

“What about TIM?” Tucker asks, causing a shroud of worry to fall over the crowd. “Isn’t this going to paint a big red target for him?”

It would, you shrug, but your pal Stripes assured you that Cliff’s got it under control. And yes, you add, you trust that guy!

“Well between that and those animals running wild we’re probably covered, yea?” Mitzi asks in that perpetually-chill voice of hers! “I say it’s about damn time we took a break.”

“Especially considering what comes next…” Sybil remarks in a wary tone. “We’ll need all our strength for tomorrow.”

Yea, you and the others nod.

“... that means limiting alcohol consumption too, Stan.”

The hell’s she telling you for!?

>CONTD.
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>>5341306
“So lemme get this straight:” Eddie begins as you and the rest of the crew set off in the apparent direction of the van and the rest of the vehicles, “They’ve got a helicopter??”

That’s right, bitch, you say with a wink, and guess who’s got dibs on the first ride?

“I’ll be stickin’ near the dance floor, thank you very much.” Mitzi adds with a grin. “If I’m gonna go I’d rather it be from exhaustion, not some drunk bastard crashing a helicopter into the hills.”

“There’s gonna be food, right?” Talbot asks with a conflicted look on his dumb face. “Not tryin’ to be, like, ‘Deadist’ or whatever, but do we need to pick up snacks, or-”

If he’s being anything, you scoff, it’s dumb! It’s a party–why wouldn’t they have food!?

“Well they’ll certainly have drinks.” Sybil sighs as you feel Talbot’s elephantine foot flat-tire your heel! Hissing in anger, you swipe at the big oaf until Gus steps in between.

“Those guys know a lot about cars. Maybe they can look at the van.” He muses to himself in his perpetually-stoic voice.

“Yea, it sounds like a dream and all, guys,” Art begins as Denise chats excitedly with Teevor and Rodhi near the back of the procession, “But before we get sauced shouldn’t we tell the folks at GOOD BOY about our progress and all?”

Why didn’t you think of that, you muse with mock wonder in your voice! Oh wait, you did--that’s why you gave him the damn radio!

“Oh uh…” The Rent-A-Cop mutters as he fiddles with the device in his hands, “You uh… you want me to do it?”

Yes, VICE OFFICER, you want HIM to do it! And he can tell it to your old pal BLUMENKRANTZ, thanks very much!

“B-B-Blumenkrantz?” Art stammers as a flash of lightning overhead heralds the rumble of thunder, “I um, look, Stan-”

Thanks, VICE OFFICER, you chirp as you and Kiki exchange a knowing wink, you’re a doll! Before Art can whine about it anymore, you and the rest of the gang arrive at your parking spot where you find THE VAN, THAT JEEP, GUS’ BIKE W/SIDECAR, AND SOME SHITTY UNIVERSITY VEHICLE sit ready to be driven! LIL’ STANLEY’S glowing eyes peer out at your entourage from underneath the van. Heaven forbid you forget her...

“So these are those ‘autom mobiles’ you primitives created…” Teevor remarks as the gang prepares to leave. “Fascinating.”

“You said it, man!” Eddie grins as he throws open the back of the van to salute the cardboard cutout of RIP KORD. “I’m drivin’ this one, guys… since Art’s gonna be busy with a call, and all…”

“Damn it.” The Rent-A-Cop hisses angrily, “I’ll get you good for this, Stan. Mark my words.”

He’ll have to wait til’ after the call then, you giggle! Now everyone saddle up!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5341309
“Before we go,” Tucker interrupts, “Are we taking all of these cars?”

Yea, you shrug, finders keepers!

“Might wanna suss out a route, too.” Eddie ponders aloud, earning an emphatic nod from Kiki. “Roads still might be dangerous.”

“I’ll be on the bike.” Gus grunts, jabbing a thumb towards his trusty steed.

E-erm, K-Kiki a-and I will take this vehicle…” Denise squeaks, pointing a shaky finger at the UNIVERSITY CAR.Y-you tw-two are more th-than welcome to j-join…

“Very well,” Teevor nods, prompting Rodhi to do the same, “It’s been some time since I’ve seen the surface…”

“I’ll take the van with Ed.” Tucker adds as he pats his roommate on the shoulder. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on the guy.”

“Eh, me too.” Talbot grunts as he hops into the back of the van. “Gotta get that leg room, y’know?”

“Guess that leaves me with the JEEP.” Mitzi remarks before glancing at Syb and a very apprehensive Art. “You guys comin’ with?”

“Certainly.” Sybil says with a beaming smile! “It’ll be nice to feel the wind in my hair!”

“Yea, yea…” Art grumbles.

QUESTION #1: WHICH VEHICLE WILL YOU TAKE?
>VAN (EDDIE, TUCKER, TALBOT)
>UNIVERSITY CAR (KIKI, TEEVOR, DENISE, RODHI)
>JEEP (SYB, ART, MITZ)
>BIKE (GUS)

QUESTION #2: WHAT ROUTE WILL YOU TAKE TO THE DRIVE-IN?
>DIRECT! FAST, BUT POSSIBLY THE MOST DANGEROUS!
>MIDWAY! NOT DIRECT, BUT A LITTLE SAFER!
>STEALTHY! MEANDERING AND LONG, BUT LESS CHANCE OF SHIT HAPPENING!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5341310
>>VAN (EDDIE, TUCKER, TALBOT)
>MIDWAY! NOT DIRECT, BUT A LITTLE SAFER!
>>
>BIKE (GUS)

Should be a nice quiet ride.

>MIDWAY! NOT DIRECT, BUT A LITTLE SAFER!

Trouble Lite. Just as refreshing, less injuries.
>>
>>5341349
Sure, this.
>>
THE TALLY:

>>5341337
>VAN
>MIDWAY!

>>5341349
>>5341360
>BIKE!
>MIDWAY!

Looks like the MIDWAY route wins along with riding with Gus! Writing!
>>
You make your choice known by vaulting over the side of Gus’, well, sidecar and plopping the goggled helmet sitting inside onto your head. It looks pretty silly with your cap and shades on, though, so you quickly decide to remove the headgear and chuck it back where you found it. Rapping your knuckles against the side, you inform the gang that you wanna take the middle route–the one that ain’t too direct, but not too slow either!

“Sure, I know a way.” Gus grunts with the faintest of glints in his perpetually-tired eyes. “No helmet?”

Nah, you scoff, those are for dorks! Stretching out a bit in what little room you have, your irritation grows when you realize no one’s moving. What’s the damn holdup?

“Just uh,” Eddie mutters as people slowly get their collective rear in gear, “Stay close, alright everyone? It ain’t a race.”

“It could be.” Mitzi retorts with a competitive glint in her eye.

“No it COULDN’T.” Art declares in a stern tone. “We’re on our way to what will probably be the last bit of rest we’ll get before the final showdown–call me a party pooper, but I don’t want anyone dying in a wreck on the way over.”

You, Talbot, Mitz, Gus all respond with a synchronized ‘Party Pooper.’ which does little to improve your VICE OFFICER’S mood. Doesn’t he have a call to make, or-

“Augh, fine! Kuso...” Grumbling as he climbs into the back of the jeep, Art’s actions set a chain reaction in motion prompting the rest to get moving! Taking his spot on the bike next to you, Gus gives you a warm glance as his baby purrs to life! With a quick thumbs up to your pals, you and Gus are the first two out of the starting gate!

ROLL ME 1d100 FOR NO REASON IN PARTICULAR! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>5341486
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>5341486

C'mon dice, I think we can kill Art one more time before we fight Tim.
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>5341486
>>
>>5341491
>>5341516
>>5341540
>HIGHEST ROLL: 66!

Writing the last update of the night since I've got plans in a little bit! Should have more SUNDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST!

>>5341516
It'll happen if you believe, anon!
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https://youtu.be/SyqNtJSQvZo
Leaving the port in the dust behind you, you lean back in the sidecar and take a long, thoughtful whiff of the cool, smoky night air as it rushes through your hair.

Though the houses and businesses along the coast still smolder with embers, you can’t help but find the drive peaceful, in a way–the kind that clears your mind of worries and unease.

“Been a while.”

Blinking behind your sunglasses, Gus’ remark takes you out of your silent reverie. Say wha?

“Since we rode together.” He adds in a stunning amount of expressiveness from the normally silent giant. “Been a while.”

It has, hasn’t it, you muse, barely realizing it yourself. How long has it been since he’s driven you somewhere?

“A while, dat’s fer’ sure.” Ly answers with a shrug in his voice. “As I recall you kids didn’t make a habit of doin’ much ‘side from playin’ video games an’ eatin’ pizza.”

He’s not wrong. Last time you went anywhere with Gus had to have been when you met his family that one time at the pizza place–that or TRUCK-A-PALOOZA about a year ago. MAN, that was rad!

“Yep.” Gus nods, clearly listening in on your internal monologue as usual. “Can’t go wrong with monster trucks.” Amen to that, brother. Amen to that.

“Wanna go after this is over?” Continues the delivery guy as you head inland towards the town proper. Yea, you grin, you’d be down for that!

“Cool.”

Heading deeper into town, the lapping waves are replaced by the sound of distant gunfire and squealing tires–whether they belong to friends or foes is beyond you, but you figure at this point you can handle a jerk or two. Zooming past a burning GOODBOY NPC and a truck spray painted with some kind of winged snake, you can’t help but frown–how the hell is this place supposed to recover after all this?

“It’ll happen.” Gus replies with a surprisingly reassuring grunt. “Eventually.”

For some reason you feel a faint grin form on your face. Sometimes Gus just gets it, y’know?

As you idly drum your fingers on the side of your ride, you wonder if you should be saying anything to anyone. Watching the redwood trees north of town send plumes of smoke rivaling the ones emanating from the buildings around you into the sky, it dawns on you that you might be driving for a while given the DRIVE-IN’ just outside of town. You kinda forgot what it’s like to not be attacked every three or four posts!

What do?

>TALK TO LY!
>CHATS WITH NATS!
>TRY TO COMMUNICATE WITH GUS!
>JUST KEEP AN EYE OUT UNTIL YOU ARRIVE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5341591
>>TRY TO COMMUNICATE WITH GUS!
>>JUST KEEP AN EYE OUT UNTIL YOU ARRIVE!

We can multitask
>>
>>5341591
>CHATS WITH NATS!
>CHAT WITH LY!

She uh...settling in? No roommate drama or anything? Brain behaving? Immune system not getting uppity? They're not talking about her when she's distracted are they?
>>
>>5341591
>TRY TO COMMUNICATE WITH GUS!
Ask him what he would do if he were a traitor. Not that there’s one nearby, or anything!
>>
>>5341591
>TRY TO COMMUNICATE WITH GUS!
>>
THE TALLY:

>>5341596
>>5341612
>>5341647
>>5341956
>TALK TO GUS: 3!
>CHAT WITH NATS AND LY: 1
>KEEP YER EYES PEELED: 1

Writing!
>>
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As you pass the burning remains of your hometown in your wacky convoy, you get the urge to check in with Gus a little bit, not that you and him ever really talk much. That’s not to say you guys are distant, or anything, it’s just how stuff is, y’know?

“You’re happier.”

Naturally the big guy beats you to the punch. Speaking of punch, his remark takes you somewhat off-guard–sending a bewildered glance his way, you ask him to repeat himself–you must have gotten something CRAY-CRAY in your ear!

In typical Gus fashion, your driver responds with a noncommittal shrug. “Are you not?”

Great, dude, very informative. Rolling your eyes at a burning post office, you counter his shrug with your own–yea, Gus, you mutter in a voice dripping with sarcasm, you’re having the time of your life dodging death every minute of the day! Art was probably jumping for joy when you left him bleeding in a friggin’ ditch and you’re sure Mitzi and the other folks who lost their friends and family are just peachy too! Woo-frickin’-hoo!

Was that too subtle?

“Nah, I think ya’ nailed dat’ perfect balance, kiddo.”

Cool.

Gus’ perpetually-stoic face droops a centimeter at your sudden tongue-lashing. “Sorry.”

Happy, you scoff. Like a rat in a friggin’ maze, maybe! Leaning back in your seat as it rattles along the bumpy road, you can’t help but stare at the delivery guy’s statue-like face. What the hell is he talking about, anyways, you ask as you angrily cross your arms!

“You’re different, is all.” He replies, earning another exasperated sigh from you. Now you remember why you never talk to the guy–getting anything out of him is like carving a marble sculpture with a toothbrush. Blind. Different how, exactly?

Staring at you out of the corner of his beady little eyes, Gus takes a short breath as he takes you both around the skeleton of an old school bus left to rot in the middle of the road.

“Remember the first time we hung out?”

You respond with a blink. Barely. It was at the apartment, right? He nods with a faint, almost nostalgic grin.

“I’d just come back from work with a MEAT YOUR MAKER DELUXE and your door was open. Not like, wide, or whatever, but kinda.”

Now that rings a bell. Gus was always bringing home pizza after his shifts–perks of his family running the place, you suppose.

“So I peeked inside, right? And there you are just… collapsed.”

That rings stuff too. Those first few shifts at GOOD BOY were brutal!

“Da’ golden days, huh, cupcake?”

“Anyways, you weren’t dead or nothin’, so I gave you a few slices and that was it.”

It was heaven, you grin, feeling a faint taste of pizza on your tastebuds. Last damn day you forgot to pack a snack before work, that’s for damn sure!

“Yea, vodka mini-bottles don’t count as a snack, kiddo.”

Whatever, DAD!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5342790
Okay, you huff, so you had a bad day or two–still a whole lot better than, y’know, being hunted. By SKELETONS!

“Dunno, Stan… you were pretty bad.” Gus counters as you roll over the cracked pavement. “An’ that wasn’t even the worst part.”

What’s he smoking, anyways, you snap, jabbing your finger in his cheek? Is he saying your pizza and game nights were lame!? IS HE!?

“Nah, man, those were cool.” Replies the driver, cheek still poked. “But whenever we hung out you always seemed… I dunno…”

DAZZLING?

“... defeated, I guess?”

Your finger falls from the delivery guy’s cheek. What… what the hell’s that supposed to mean, huh? Has he been reading the last few threads? You only got defeated once, kinda, but you made it back! This writer’s a pussy!

“Whenever we hung out you were, like… resigned, y’know? Like you were always bitching about your job, but it was like you were never gonna leave.”

Uhhh, Earth to Gus: that’s NORMAL! People bitch about work all the time–it’s the American way! Your driver meets your explanation with one of his classic long, deep stares–the type that always makes you get all introspective.

You… you weren’t that bad, right?

“Yea, stuff sucks right now and all,” Gus continues as he turns his attention back to the road, “But you’ve changed, Stan. Maybe it’s the people, but I’ve never seen you smile this much, like… ever.”

Yea, well, you stammer, retreating deeper into the sidecar, you smile a lot, okay? You don’t need people keeping tabs on it!

“Whatever happens, I hope you stay happy, Stan. Really.”

And just like that the conversation ends as quickly as it began. Staring at the ruined city passing by, you can’t help but frown. Stupid Gus. Stupid observations. You’ll be miserable when you feel like it, damn it.

Are you alright, Stanley?” Asks Nats in a genuinely concerned tone. Stupid demon with your stupid positive qualities…

Looks like you’ve got some more time before you arrive. Anything else you wanna address on what was supposed to be a calm drive?

>TELL GUS HE’S WRONG, DAMN IT! HE DOESN’T GET YOU!
>ASK GUS HOW HIS FAMILY’S HOLDING UP!
>INQUIRE ABOUT TRAITORS–SINCE HE’S SO OBSERVANT AND ALL!
>CHAT WITH LY–YOU DON’T NEED ANYMORE INTROSPECTION, THANKS!
>HIT UP NATS–BET SHE’S HAVING A BLAST SO FAR, HUH?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5342794
>HIT UP NATS–BET SHE’S HAVING A BLAST SO FAR, HUH?
I love how the literal demon is a better person than we typically are.
>>
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>>5342794
>>HIT UP NATS–BET SHE’S HAVING A BLAST SO FAR, HUH?

Seems like a better usage of our time since I doubt Gus is the traitor. For all we know, Art will be made the traitor for shits-and-giggles so we can kill him all over again.

>>5342872
I keked.
>>
My theory is that Blumencratz and Christie are co-traitors, seeking to take down GBDB and the rest of Tim's cult. GBDB company mind controlled Stan into attacking Christie to try and cow Blumencratz into submission, but instead drew her into the conspiracy.

GBDB has been farming Stan's wild magic, that's why she felt defeated after work.
>>
>>5342794
>HIT UP NATS–BET SHE’S HAVING A BLAST SO FAR, HUH?
>>
>>5342892

Yeah at this point I'm suspecting Mitzi being the traitor is a big, fat red herring. We'll all be convinced Mitzi's the traitor and then get uber-fugged by our wonderful corporate overlords.
>>
>>5342872
>>5342882
>>5342895
>COMMUNICATE WITH DEMONS!

Writing! Sorry, had a few errands.

>>5342882
Implying Artie will last that long

>>5342892
>>5342901
Interesting theories there, anons! : )
>>
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Yea, that’s enough talking to Gus for you, thanks–good intentions or not, talking to the guy can get a little exhausting. Like digging through concrete with a particularly dull sponge.

So, you segue, leaning away from your driver to denote a change in addressee, having a blast yet, Nats?

Boy, am I!” Chirps the demon’s disembodied voice as you continue speeding through the burning city. “I thought I’d feel more uncomfortable in this dimension, but there’s a LOT more fire than I expected! And everyone’s so kind!

Yea, well, you stammer, making a point to avert your eyes from a burning truck littered with remnants of what appears to be a squad of VOLUNTEER SCOUTS, well it’s not always on fire, y’know. Granted, it’s CALIFORNIA, but still.

And we’re going to see all of the friends you’ve made again at this shindig! Man, I’m jealous! I never had time to make any friends in the Abyssal Drift–most other demons get really territorial, y’know?

Yea, you mutter, nodding slowly, sure… Hey, Ly’s not giving her a rough time or anything, right? Because if he is-

No, things are great!” Nats replies in a voice frighteningly-close to your own. “I mean I still sting from when you tore my arm and leg off, but don’t take this the wrong way: you’re SUUUUPER comfy!

Uh, yea, you reply with an awkward laugh, you uh… you get that a lot. So she’s still pulling herself back together, huh?

For now, at least… I’m not feeding too much, am I? I’m sorry–I know I got a little carried away at the school way back when!

Hey, yea, she did, didn’t she? About time you got an apology for that!

I’m SUPER sorry, really! Your life essence just tasted really good, y’know? Like when you try to eat a little bit of guacamole and you end up downing the whole bag of chips? I promise I won’t do it again!

That remains to be seen, you snarl… she tries anything slippery and she’ll be making another trip!

Read you loud and clear, sis! Scout’s Honor!

Pfft. Demon Scouts…

Since you have her on the horn, is there anything you oughta ask?
>TELL ME MORE ABOUT DEMON LAND!
>SHE’S GOT GONNA TELL ANY MORE EMBARRASSING SECRETS AT THE PARTY, RIGHT?
>WHEN WILL SHE HAVE ENOUGH STRENGTH TO FIGHT?
>WHAT’S HER TAKE ON (INSERT FRIEND/PERSON HERE!)
>NEVERMIND! GLAD SHE’S SETTLING IN!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5343049
>WHEN WILL SHE HAVE ENOUGH STRENGTH TO FIGHT?
And can we do anything to speed that process along that doesn’t involve whittling our already shortened life essence any further?
>>
>>5343049
>>WHEN WILL SHE HAVE ENOUGH STRENGTH TO FIGHT?
>>
Did we ever give Talbot’s journal back to him?
>>
>>5343049
>WHEN WILL SHE HAVE ENOUGH STRENGTH TO FIGHT?
>>5343105
Don't think we did. Did we ever plan to do that?
>>
>>5343107
I don’t know, but it might make for a decent gift. I don’t think we need it for anything. Besides, we have enough junk in our bag-of-holding pockets.
>>
>>5342901

Honestly I think Mitzi could be in on it too, for our sake. I think the 'Traitor' is only a traitor to corporate, not humanity.

I think GB has been fucking with our janitor for a long long time, possibly since birth, remember our hospital mix up that resulted in our goofy name? I suspect they might have implanted some sort of magical 'seed' or something in Stan at birth, and have been manipulating events of her life since. I think our violent blackouts have been targeted attacks on enemies of the company/cult, including Christy and even Boris's football career ending injury, as a threat to his parents. GB has actively been trying to rip apart Stan's support network by driving wedges between her and Gus, Syb, and Sue.
>>
>>5343242
>Spoiler
This fits a whole lot of puzzle pieces together very neatly. I think you might very well be right. That would make Sunny the mastermind behind all of this. Remember how fucked up he/she was? Crippled, sustained by magic and medical apparatuses? What if they’ve been using Stan for just that purpose? Or even just to revive Tibius? That’s make the bone company’s solid front for this whole mess, along with a perfect set of resources to be used when it started. Remember how Art’s entire unit was basically sent on a suicide mission? They were all KIA’d for no obvious strategic purpose. Unless that purpose was to retrieve us/delay the skeletons from catching us.

I don’t think we’re safe working with Sunny/Sonny.
>>
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>>5343242

Oh shit oh fuck oh no it all makes sense
>>
>>5343065
>>5343102
>>5343107
>WHEN STRENGTH, PLZ

I've gotta apologize, all--ended up playing games with pals after dinner last night and it went really late. I might have also drank for the first time in like, a week or so, so that didn't help much. Sorry for the mysterious disappearance!

>>5343105
You haven't, but you can certainly give it to him later if you want!

>>5343242
>>5343263
Interesting theories there, anons! : )

Yea okay let's write
>>
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Since she’s enjoying the ‘All-You-Can-Eat Essence’ Deal, you continue in a wary tone, does she have, like, a ballroom figure of when she can actually lend a hand?

Uh, yea: NOW. Did you not notice that +5 BONEUS to, like, every roll since we linked up?” She asks in an irritated tone that does you proud! And yes, you groan, you noticed that crap, okay? Not like it helped in that fight with Tory much!

Hey, blame the dice, not the demon, sis.

Fair enough, you shrug as the bike hops over a particularly deep pothole. You’re betting that crap was there even before the SKELETON APOCALYPSE too! Anyways, you continue, you meant, like, when she could take over and go SICKO MODE on your enemies. Y’know, like DEMON DRIVER in that DEMON MIGHT WEEP game your bro used to play!

Oh, that! TOMORROW, definitely!” Reports the demon with a smile in her voice. “As long as you don’t, y’know, nearly die tonight or anything I should be fit as a fiddle!

You’ll hold her to that, you hiss! There’s a pretty decent chance it’s gonna get hairy tomorrow, so she’d better bring her ‘A Game’!

It’s the least I can do for big sis!” Nats chirps! “Just, um… manifesting like that might take a lot of energy out of you… and I mean a LOT.

A small price to pay for POWER, you reply with a grim smile! But just so you’re both on the same page… what does ‘a LOT’ mean?

A lot means a LOT.” The demon explains as Gus takes a wide turn to avoid some jackass taking potshots at you from a nearby window. “I’m not a doctor or anything, but you’ll be pretty worn out afterwards. Hopefully not enough to keep you from fighting or whatever, but still!

Lame, you drone, watching Gus as he wordlessly unslings his SAWN-OFF SHOTGUN from his back and blows the shooter to hell without taking his dead eyes off the road. Dang, you thought shotguns had no range!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5343933
I’m sorry! If I take too much LIFE ESSENCE bad stuff might happen! Better safe than sorry, right?

Sure, you shrug, but what the heck does ‘BAD STUFF’ mean anyways?

Again, not an expert, but some of the other demons I met told me about how it’s, like, SUPER easy to take over a human’s body once you devour all their essence, so, y’know… that might happen if I’m not cautious?

Okay, you nod, that DOES sound kinda nasty–you like being alive, thanks!

Yea, and think of how sad all your friends would be!” Nats continues in a sympathetic voice. “I mean, I think I’m pretty good at impersonating you, but I only absorbed your POSITIVE BITS, so Art and Syb and Talbot and everyone would be stuck with a REALLY SWEET, HONEST, and EMOTIONALLY-AVAILABLE version of you! That’d be the pits!

A cold chill runs down your spine as you weigh her words. Yes, you nod as a haunted expression forms on your face, yes it would… don’t overdo it, please.

Ever.

Roger that, big sis!

So uh, you continue as a pack of CLEARWATER’S INFAMOUS WILD DOGS dart across the torn-up thoroughfare ahead of you, what would it be like, anyways? When she uh… when she takes over?

It’ll be COOL, DUH!” Replies Nats with a cheerful giggle! “Really though: we’ll be super tough! Like REALLY tough!

You like the sound of that… but, like, she was wearing that COD OUTFIT– is that what’s gonna happen, or?

Oooh, I gotcha… Well if I had to guess…

DOES STAN HAVE A ‘DEMON DRIVER’ FORM? IF SO, WHAT WOULD IT LOOK LIKE, MAYBE? HM?
>NO DIFFERENCE ASIDE FROM SOME GLOWING EYES, MAYBE?
>SOMETHING CUHRAYZEE LIKE IN ‘DEMON MIGHT WEEP’! SHARP TEETH AND COATS FOR SOME REASON!
>DEMONIC RACCOON! NO, NOT JUST LIL’ STANLEY…
>THAT CLEARWATER COD MASCOT SUIT WAS KINDA COOL!
>MINIMALIST: JUST NATS WITH HER PITCH-BLACK SKIN, RED EYES, AND WHITE HAIR! AND SHE’S GLOWING, MAYBE?
>WRITE-IN (INSPIRING PICTURES WOULD HELP TOO)
>>
>>5343934

How about norse hel style? Nats down one side, Stan down the other. Stan calls dibs on the laser eye side. Legion voice for good measure.
>>
>>5343934
>WRITE-IN (INSPIRING PICTURES WOULD HELP TOO)
SHADOW STAN, BABY!
All BLACK, except for RED LASER EYES.
Shadows trail from her body and moving leaves behind a trail of shadows momentarily.
Red electricity sparks from her eyes and moving her head leaves behind a trail of red electricity momentarily.
>>
>>5343934
>>5343976
Awesome awesome awesome support!
>>
>>5343966
>SPLIT DOWN THE MIDDLE!

>>5343976
>>5343988
>SPOOKY SHADOW STAN!

That'll do 'er for now! Writing!
>>
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I didn’t have much of a ‘form’ when I uh… woke up,” Nats explains as you drum your fingers on the sidecar, “But I remember seeing my reflection for the first time!

What was it, the cod?

Ha ha, nope! I remember seeing a silhouette–like a living shadow, y’know? And these sparking red eyes…

Not gonna lie, Nats–that sounds dumb. Like, REALLY dumb! Oh well–you’re sure that when the time comes you’ll look a lot cooler than that!

Who knows? Either way I can’t wait to show you!

Save that pepper, kiddo–you don’t plan on fighting anyone until tomorrow at the earliest!

… unless someone talks smack tonight at the party. Or looks at you the wrong way. Or gives you a bad vibe. Or you get bored.

“Almost there, Stan.” Gus announces with the usual lack of pep in his voice. Sure enough, as you scan your surroundings you find yourself crossing the outskirts you and Art tore through back when you first escaped GOOD BOY–hard to believe it’s been so many days!

“Yep–I still remember spendin’ da’ night in dat’ tree…” Ly remarks as the bike starts climbing a long, sidewinder trail up into the forested hills above town. “Dat’ an’ da’ boot print Talbot left fer’ us in da’ mud…”

Whodathunk you’d make so many friends, Stan?” Giggles Nats’ disembodied voice! “Color me JEALOUS!

You’re gonna color her DRUNK in a little bit, you reply with a toothy grin on your face! Man, it’s gonna be great seeing the guys again!

“Sit back an’ relax–I’ll get us there.” Gus replies with a slight grin forming on his bearded face. Leaning back into your seat, you contemplate what, if anything, you’d like to do before arriving at the venue…

>ASK GUS SOMETHING!
>ASK LY SOMETHING!
>ASK NATS SOMETHING!
>FIDDLE AROUND WITH AN ITEM (WHICH ONE?)
>JUST ENJOY THE RIDE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5344072
>>JUST ENJOY THE RIDE!
>>
>>5344072
>JUST ENJOY THE RIDE!
>>
>>5344131
>>5344301
>SIT BACK AND RELAX!

Writing!
>>
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You’ve got a whole night of tomfoolery ahead of you–might as well conserve that remaining energy, right? Stretching out as much as you can in your sidecar, you take in the sights as the road snakes upwards into redwood-covered hills that haven’t burned down yet.

Glancing back at the rest of the wagon train, you feel a slight bit of relief when you see all of the vehicles following close behind. Sensing your gaze, Eddie gives you a friendly wave from the van’s driver’s seat while Mitz sticks her arm out the jeep window to flip you the bird. They’re certainly in good spirits.

Before you can really get into some retaliation, a trio of HOT RODS STUFFED WITH SKELETON GREASERS burst from the fern-dotted hill! Surrounding your convoy, the rodders waste no time in aiming their weapons at you and your friends!

“Hey there, girly!” Hoots one of the pompadoured patrolmen as he and two of his friends point the business ends of their N4 RIFLES at your face, “Think you cats might be a bit lost, dig?”

And you think he might be a bit STUPID, you growl! You’re here for the shindig at the DRIVE-IN!

“No clue what you’re talkin’ about, baby!” Retorts your would-be shooter. “Now spin an’ split before these trigger fingers get itchy, dig?!”

What the HELL, you growl as you reach into your pocket!

“Stan, don’t test these guys…” Ly warns as you quickly rummage! You’re not testing them, okay? You’re grabbing your radio so Stripes can sort these idiots ou-

Oh damn it…

Glancing back towards the jeep, you watch in growing horror as Art struggles to obey the commands given to him by the ROCKABILLY PATROL while also juggling what seems to be some kind of tongue-lashing from who you can only presume to be BLUMENKRANTZ over the radio. Damn, you’re surprised you can hear him from here!

“Da’ radio’s a bit preoccupied, but maybe someone else can call in?” Ly suggests as Gus wordlessly revs his bike’s engine. There’s no time, dang it!

What do?
>TELL THESE ASSHOLES YOU KNOW CLIFF! STRIPES! HAULIE-PAULIE!
>WHAT DO THEY WANT? BRIBES? TRY GIVING THEM SOMETHING! (SNACKS? MERMAID SMUT? DENISE?)
>GET MITZ OR SOMEONE TO RADIO STRIPES! FRIGGIN’ ART….
>THREATEN THEM TO CUT THE CRAP OR THEY’LL REGRET IT!
>HEED THE WARNING AND TURN AROUND–YOU CAN FIGURE THIS OUT WITHOUT HAVING GUNS POINTED YOUR WAY, THANKS!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
Oh right, one more choice I forgot:
>ATTACK WHILE YOU STILL HAVE THE DROP ON 'EM!

I'm also signing off here for tonight--gotta wake up early tomorrow and won't be able to promise more updates until around TUESDAY 11-12PM PST! Hope to see you then!
>>
> SEDUCE THEM WITH THE MERMAID SMUT!
>>
>>5344426
+1
>>
>>5344426
support
>>
>>5344426
>>5344447
>>5344510
>MERMAID SMUT!
Writing!
>>
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Still elbow-deep in your nigh-bottomless pockets, your hand clasps around a suitable stand-in for your radio–the rough, almost chitinous book jacket of an otherworldly smut rag that swiftly fills your heart with uncanny fear just feeling it!

“Last warning, pussy cat–we ain’t afraid to rumble, dig?”

Some primal, mammalian survival instinct kicks in as you remove the MERMAID SMUT from your pockets prompting you to shield your eyes as you fling the skin rag in the skeleton greaser’s direction! Upon hearing its heavy pages connect with his face, you slap Gus’ arm a few times and yell at him to GUN IT!

“Yea, uh…” Gus mutters as he lazily glances between the three other hot rods full of armed and clearly not distracted skeleton greasers, “Don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Hey, wait a sec…” Mutters one of the greasers from further down the convoy as he scrutinizes your face with glowing red eyes, “Ain’t I seen ya somewhere?”

Maybe in his nightmares, you snarl, hair bristling as all of the vehicles roll to a stop.

“Yea…” The greaser continues, hopping off the side of his ride and approaching your bike, “You’re that STANLEY kid, right?”

Passing by Art, Mitzi, and Syb’s wheels, you order all three with your mind to destroy the skeleton… DESTROY HIM!

Unfortunately your command goes unheeded as he approaches your sidecar running a comb through his immaculately-kept hair.

“Well hot dog, boys, we’ve got a celebrity!” He hoots, prompting the non-catatonic skeletons to cheer in response! Planting a sneakered-foot on the edge of your sidecar, the skeleton leans in and gives you a genial grin!

“Cripes, kitten–why didn’t you say somethin’? You guys are runnin’ late!”

And they would have run late PERMANENTLY if they tried anything funny, you counter! He might want to, like, bat that smut rag out of their view with a stick or something, by the way.

“Sorry about the show, kid,” The greaser apologizes as he motions for one of his pals to dislodge the MERMAID SMUT from your initial accosters, “Cliff was real particular about uninvited guests–don’t want anyone spoiling the fun, dig?”

Well they’d better get to work making things fun again, you snarl, because this totally killed your mood! And look at Gus, you add, gesturing to the gentle giant seated next to you, he’s practically in tears!

“Sob.”

“Did uh… did the big guy just say ‘so-’”

He’s emotionally soldered, okay? And the fact that he even said that means you guys REALLY hurt his feelings!

“Oh shoot–we’re awful sorry, Stan! And pals!”

They WILL be, you retort in a foreboding voice… they WILL be!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5345079
“Well look, sis,” The greaser continues as one of his associates manages to smack the ELDRITCH SMUT RAG out of the hot rodder’s bony hands and onto the pavement, “We’ll start makin’ it up to ya’ by escorting you guys straight into the camp, dig?”

You dig, you frown, but you don’t wanna wait anymore! And you want to be, like, announced! Like a princess entering a ballroom!

“What the hell’s the HOLDUUUUUP?!” Roars Talbot from further down the wagon train! His funeral if he doesn’t shut up, you shout!

“No problemo, kid… just gotta wait a sec.” The greaser replies as the rest of his crew relaxes a bit. What the HELL for?!

“Boss is makin’ a speech to the troops.” Explains another skeleton in the car across from yours. “Sounds like it’s a big one.”

Sounds like a DUMB one, you counter! It doesn’t matter anyways–Cliff knows you! You’re fine with interrupting!

“Yea, uh…” Replies the original greaser, the OG, if you will, in an uncertain tone, “I’m talkin’ about the BIG GUY, sis.”

What, SANTA?

“Pretty sure he means TIM, cupcake.”

An icy finger runs down your spine as your mind flashes back to that fateful graveyard shift a few nights ago… that and the fiendish glow of TIM’S hooded eyes…

Sonnovabitch, you snarl as you give the inside of the sidecar a good kick, he’s HERE?! Let’s waste him now!

“Nah, he’s tuning in with some kinda magic.” Explains OG in a voice that implies he barely gets it either, “He can still see everyone an’ answer questions, so yea… not a good time.”

“Yes, hello,” Sybil begins as she blinks into existence between you and the greaser, “Is there any way we can listen in without entering the camp?”

“WOAH! Uh… hey there, sweetheart!” OG stammers as he recoils from the sudden interruption! Focus, creep! “Uh, sure you can–we’ve got a radio in Tony’s wheels broadcastin’ the whole thing if you wanna hear!”

“It’s almost done, though!” Adds who you assume to be Tony as he holds a turned-off radio over his pompadour'd head. “You still wanna listen?”

What’s the verdict, Stan?
>NOT WORTH THE RISK–YOU’LL WAIT!
>YEA, TUNE US IN!
>YOU WANNA HEAR IT IN PERSON–TAKE US UP SNEAKILY, PLEASE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5345081
>>YOU WANNA HEAR IT IN PERSON–TAKE US UP SNEAKILY, PLEASE!
>>
>>5345081
>YEA, TUNE US IN!
We might miss more of it if we try to sneak closer.
>>
>>5345081
>YEA, TUNE US IN!
>>
>>5345083
>SNEAK ON IN!

>>5345114
>>5345139
>TUNE US IN!

Writing!
>>
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Of course you wanna listen–that goes without saying! You haven’t gotten an inside line into TIM’S plans in ages! Still, he’s nothing if not tricky, that one, so rather than charging in to get a look for yourself, you instead opt to snap your fingers a few times at Tony and his radio. Let’s go!

Stumbling over your sudden and forceful command, Tony gets a grip on the radio and flicks it on with his bony fingers just in time to send a hauntingly-familiar cackle ringing out across the hills!
https://youtu.be/IeYWfOXZp7Q
-ead WRONG! What do the humans have but more time to COWER in their insipid hidey-holes while my DARK PLANS come to fruition? I LAUGH at the insinuation! You should all laugh too! I COMMAND YOU!

As if on cue, all of the skeletons including your Atlantean Scholars burst into forced, albeit pretty convincing laughter! Woah.

Adequate! As I was saying, don’t be so MARROW-MINDED! Those pitiful humans may have defeated my LIEUTENANTS, true, but that changes nothing… look around you, I say! Look around at the TRUE driving force behind my malevolent machinations! You: the SURVIVORS! You: the ELITE! You: the shining vanguard of EVIL who will make them all RUE the day they neglected to crush you into dust! It is by their own weak and PITIFUL humanity that they continue to cling to life… and it is your LACK of it that will deliver our final victory over this wretched world!

“He seems to be rallying his remaining forces…” Sybil whispers as everyone else listens intently. Yea, you growl, and it sucks! He hasn’t mentioned you once!

Though you may fall, you can rise anew!” Booms TIM’S shrill, but commanding voice through the radio’s speaker! “And for every one of them you slay, our numbers grow! Already the TOWER OF BONE swells with ESSENCE and BONE, so let them howl and scratch at our walls, I say–our hour draws near, and with every second their dwindling forces weaken with fatigue and hunger!

Even now their own plot against them–looting and pillaging their own streets out of fear and panic! And as they rally their forces with one final push, they will only succeed in snuffing out their remaining men like a wave crashing against you: mighty boulders standing strong for all eternity!

So REJOICE, my legion of the damned! Be merry this night, for tomorrow you will all return to the CITADEL in preparation for THE FINAL BATTLE! But know this, my loyal skeledogs of war: though this may be the curtain call for this pitiful burg, it is but the first step in a long and GLORIOUS journey to complete and utter victory!


And with that both the hot rods and the radio explode with raucous cheering! Even LY remains eerily silent during the whole thing!

“Well,” Sybil huffs as you and the rest of your living pals watch in silent terror, “They certainly know how to play the part, hm?”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5345209
A few minutes later a hush falls over the crowd as the speaker of the hour no doubt motions for silence. MAN this guy can talk!

Be ready to act tomorrow, my loyal minions, and BONE’T falter–a cornered animal is a dangerous foe, and HUMANS are the most deceptive of them all… BONE VOYAAAAAAAAAAAGE!

Now if only I could turn this accursed thing off..


With that the radio goes silent save for a few murmurs here and there. After a minute or so of silence, an unfamiliar voice emerges from the receiver.

“... yep, I think that’s it, folks. We’re gettin’ the all-clear on this end.”

The cold chill lifts from the air around you as everyone returns to relative normalcy. As Tony places the radio back where he retrieved it from, OG looks at you with a shrug of his leather jacketed shoulders.

“You heard ‘em, kid. You ready to party?”

You respond with a round of devilish laughter–you’ve never been MORE ready, dude!

“That’s the ticket, baby! Let’s get you guys in, then!”

Sending a shrill whistle into the air, the rest of the hot rodders saddle up as their car engines roar to life! Daring to glance at where the MERMAID SMUT RAG dropped, an arrow of fear pierces your chest as you find it missing from the ground!
https://youtu.be/pT4FY3NrhGg
No… NO!

“You stayin’, Stan?” Gus asks as his stoic voice rouses you from the abject terror washing over you! “Might take a little longer to get up there.”

Who do you wanna ride with the rest of the way?
>GUS!
>MITZ, ART, AND SYB!
>KIKI, DENISE, RODHI, AND TEEVOR!
>EDDIE, TUCKER, AND TALBOT!
>OG AND SOME OF THE SKELETON GREASERS!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5345210
>MITZ, ART, AND SYB!
>>
>>5345210
>>MITZ, ART, AND SYB!
>>
A chilling reminder that there may be limits to our bony rebellion. More than a little worried that when push comes to shove we're going to have to smoke a lot of friends.
>>
>>5345220
>>5345223
>JEEPERS CREEPERS!

Writing!
>>
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Having had your fill of the bike, you hastily disembark and give Gus a wave. You’re gonna go the last leg with Syb and the others, kay?

“You bet. Thanks for riding.” Gus replies with a faint smirk.

“Let’s not keep them waiting, shall we?” Syb asks with a warm smile as she wraps her arm around your shoulder. Letting her lead you to the jeep, you exchange looks with a very rattled Art as he wordlessly hands you back your CHRISTY-MODDED RADIO.

“... Blumenkrantz knows.”

Plopping into the seat next to him, you give your Rent-A-Cop pal a steadying pat on the shoulder pad. Leadership, right? Gotta love it!

“Nice moves with the smug rag, by the by.” Mitzi remarks as she points to your unfastened seatbelt without looking back. “Guess that’s what you call a ‘booby trap’, huh?”

You don’t get it, but that’s never stopped you before! Moving to fasten the belt, you’re stopped dead in your tracks when an icy, prickling sensation stings the back of your neck.

“Oh don’t worry, Stanley–I’ll take the middle seat. You may enjoy the window!” Sybil explains with a cheerful smile on her pale face! Uh, sure, you nod, scooting over for her to take the spot next to Art, if she wants BITCH SEAT then she can have it!

“Appreciated~”The Goth chirps as she settles in next to Art. Rolling your eyes out the window, you hastily buckle your belt as Mitzi impatiently clears her throat from the front. Once settled in, the whole wagon train starts up the hill once again!

“So Blumenkrantz says the whole LODGE is on lockdown.” Art explains as you pass deeper into the trees. “Guy’s worried that our wholesale slaughter of TIM’S LIEUTENANTS is gonna trigger some serious backlash.”

Seriously?” Mitzi asks in a faux-surprised tone!

“For once I’m actually glad to have a paranoid psycho as Head of Security…” Art sighs as he looks out his window. “So anyways, everyone’s being recalled: patrols, rescue teams, even those VOLUNTEER SCOUTS they were sending out to make up for lost squads.”

“Sounds like pure chaos.” Sybil says with a frown.

“Yep, they’re gonna be stuffed in there like sweaty sardines.” Mitzi remarks as she brings the jeep past two guard treehouses bordering the winding road. “Wouldn’t want to be keeping the peace in there tonight, that’s for damn sure.”

“Well between the barrier, Curt’s buddies, and security, at least we don’t have to feel bad about missing out.” Replies Art with a weary shrug. “Which is good, cuz’ I really don’t want to drive back into town tonight…”

“Well we’ve already committed to this event–we might as well enjoy it.” Sybil adds.

Jeez, would it kill them to be a little more enthusiastic!?

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5345338
Climbing higher into the forested hills, you instinctively draw your CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION when you hear the low thrum of propellers overhead! Aiming your weapon at the source of the noise, you nearly drop it when you see what’s causing the ruckus!

A refurbished military chopper buzzes overhead–one that looks more like a troop transport than an attack bird, not that you know much about that, of course! Painted all black save for the classic greaser hot rod flames on the nose, the chopper dips a bit as its skeletal passengers hoot and wave at you from behind a mounted gun turret!

“Shit,” Mitzi mutters as she honks her horn a few times in response, “Guess these guys still have some hardware lyin’ around, huh?”

No kidding! Waving as the bird soars back into the air, you immediately unbuckle your seatbelt when your convoy emerges into a clearing! Where there was once a dinky, run-down DRIVE-IN now sits a veritable fortress–its perimeter marked by concrete walls with shooting positions on top, and the inside…
https://youtu.be/jGdlRtR2z3E
Built around the DRIVE-IN building are countless tents, RVs, and big rig trucks amidst a sea of lights burning in the night like fireflies! Vehicles of all shapes and sizes from hot rods to military APCs tear rubber around the fort–some even skidding past your group excitedly mashing their horns! Gunshots and rockabilly music barely drowns out the chatter of the countless skeletons within–the boneheads skittering around the camp like ants in an anthill!

“How the HELL didn’t we hear all this?” Art mutters as he stares wide-eyed in disbelief.

“I’m… not sure…” Sybil adds.

“Hey, I think I see a dance floor down there!” Mitzi observes as she jabs a finger at what appears to be a newly-erected stage near the Drive-In projector screen! “I’m THERE, man.”

Still stunned by the sensory overload, you barely notice as your convoy passes through a metal gate big enough to stop a tank shell or two. Seeing a skeleton soldier motioning her to stop, Gus, Mitzi, and the others dutifully bring their cars to a stop as a handful of sharpshooters watch you through their rifle sights and the gate closes behind you!

“Well well well, guest of honor, I take it?” Drawls a soldier as Mitz rolls down her window for him. “Cliff’s still takin’ care of some things, but we’ll give y’all the run of the place after we do a quick inspection.”

UUUUUGH, how long is this gonna TAAAAAKE?!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5345342
Sure enough, the gate guards waste no time in sweeping all of your vehicles. Peering under and around your cars, one exceptionally-thorough soldier sends his bony K-9 over to sniff things out.

“They’re clean, boss.” The dog reports in a gruff, disciplined tone. Nodding, the soldier who stopped you exchanges a thumbs up with the sharpshooters, prompting one of them to whisper a few orders into a nearby radio. As the gate in front of you trundles open, your entourage is buffeted by a rush of sound and scents–mainly food, firearms, and flapping gums.

“You’re cleared, Parble.” Concludes the soldier with a polite salute. “And let me just say it’s an honor and pleasure to welcome you to the Drive-In!”
https://youtu.be/m-a6ct8aalg
With that he and his squadmates usher you into the chaos of the party! Almost immediately upon entering, your train is greeted by a horde of skeletons–greasers, pirates, soldiers, hell, some of them don’t seem to have any affiliation at all! Clambering onto your jeep, you’re immediately dogpiled with beers, fresh Drive-In chow, and markers–the latter clearly for autographs.

“Better start signing, boss!” Art shouts as your hijackers start shoving limbs, jackets, helmets, and other doodads into your face to sign! “Otherwise we’re never gonna park!”

You were just planning on leaving these dorks to fend for themselves, to be perfectly honest, but he’s right–you might wanna get some of this out of the way now so that you can actually enjoy yourself!

Not that signing autographs and getting free drinks isn’t enjoyable, of course!

ROLL 1d100 TO SEE HOW GOOD YOU ARE AT SIGNING SHIT! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

ALSO FOR A FOLLOW-UP QUESTION:

HOW MUCH OF THE OFFERED BEVERAGES DO YOU DRINK? DON’T WORRY–YOUR DUMB FRIENDS ARE BEING OFFERED STUFF TOO!

>TAKE ONE AND SIP IT! NO NEED TO GO NUTS YET!
>CHUG A FEW TO BE POLITE!
>DRINK IT ALL! DRINK IT AAAAAALLL!!!!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>5345345
>CHUG A FEW TO BE POLITE!
>>
Calling it here for tonight, folks, got some plans starting in a bit. Should have more for ya WEDNESDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST! See you at the party!
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>TAKE ONE AND SIP IT! NO NEED TO GO NUTS YET!

Big day tomorrow. Maybe check with Nats and see if we have a demon liver now?
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>5345345
>CHUG A FEW TO BE POLITE!
I feel like Stan is the kind of person who has spent time practicing her signature for when she becomes famous.
>>
>>5345381
My first 100. It’s beautiful…

Where’s that anon who rolled three ones last thread? I want him to see how you do it.
>>
>>5345381
Turns out Stan is abnormally good at signing autographs
>>
>>5345406
I’d like to see what Bones will cook up for this one hundred. How do you write up a supercrit on autograph signing?
>>
>>5345419
>How do you write up a supercrit on autograph signing?
You get that shit framed in a local restaurant
>>
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>>5345381
>>5345382

one-anon reporting in.
You dun good, anon... you dun very good.
>>
>>5345428
To hear it coming from you makes my day. Thanks, famalam.
>>
>>5345419

Clearly it's so good that it pushes back Tim's control, they literally have Stan's name on them.
>>
>>5345354
>>5345375
>>5345381
>HIGHEST ROLL: 1-fucking-HUNDO
>Stan nearly dies in a duel with a pissed-off turkey
>Absolutely KILLS it at autographing shit
Never change, you guys. Never change.

Writing!
>>
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With a permanent marker and a free drink in hand, you waste no time in giving your adoring fans what they want! Downing your first cup of what tastes like beer, you quickly fall into a rhythm like you’ve been doing this shit your entire life: drink, sign, drink, sign. Like a well-oiled (or well-boozed in this case) machine, you barely flinch at the rabid horde of skeletons and their belongings: whether it’s a helmet, a cutlass, a gun, or even a bone, you approach each and every autograph with masterful flair!

Curlicue letters. Shoutouts and thankful messages. You even draw a few cat faces and hearts on some of them–they friggin’ LOVE it!

Holy cow, you’re still going!?” Nats remarks as you empty another beer!

“Holy crap, you’re still going!?” Asks Art as Syb and Mitz watch in silent awe.

You don’t bother to respond–you’re in the groove, after all! Though a dull ache slowly spreads through your signing arm, you don’t falter, and before long the crowd around you thins as the skeletons make way for you to pass through!

“Thanks, kid!” Shouts one of your fans as your motorcade turns to head towards a GARAGE situated on the outskirts of the fort, “You da’ best!”

“Arrr, she be approachable fer’ one so famous!” Remarks a pirate skeleton!

“Stan’s da’ cat’s meow, baby!” Hoots a pompadour’d skeleton!

Giving your fans a few shots from the GUN FINGERS, you slump back into your seat as the signing frenzy finally catches up with you!

“Jeez, Stan–feels like I’m driving a movie star around…” Mitzi laughs from the front seat. “Say, can I get an autograph too after this?”

“Nice to see your deeds have finally caught up with you, isn’t it?” Sybil adds with pride as she pats your head! Damn right it is!

“Definitely worked out dat’ arm, too!” Ly announces as you approach the distant garage! “Not bad at all, kiddo!”

TEMPORARY BUFF: AUTOGRAPHER’S ARM! FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT YOU’LL GET A +5 BONEUS TO ANY ACTION REQUIRING YOUR RIGHT ARM! PHEW!

As the fame-induced haze slowly fades along with the cheering behind you, you notice that in all the confusion and chaos, something ELSE was signed back there… and by that we mean PLASTERED with signatures!
SO MUCH SO THAT IT’LL GET A PERMANENT +5 BUFF! WHAT IS IT, FOLKS?
>YOUR BACKUUM!
>YOUR CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION!
>YOUR ROCKET LAUNCHER!
>YOUR REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK!
>YOUR TELESCOPING MOP!
>YOUR EVENING SANITATION COORDINATOR CAP OR COVERALLS!
>ART!
>MITZI!
>SYBIL!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5345916
>MITZI!
>>
>>5345916

The mop is clearly the smart decision but Mitzi is fucking hilarious

> MITZI!
>>
>>5345916
>>ART!

I'm going for ART so he doesn't die! CRIT IMMUNITY BITCHES!
>>
>>5345916
>MITZI!
She did ask for a signature.
>>
>>5345916
>MITZI!
>>
>>5345925
>>5345930
>>5345964
>>5345982
>BEST GIRL, MAYBE. I HAVEN'T POLLED THAT IN A WHILE

>>5345933
>BEST DEAD MAN WALKING

Talk about a 'MITZ'd opportunity, am I right? Ha ha ha. Anyways, we ritin'
>>
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Errr, Mitz, you mutter as you slowly notice the tangled mass of signatures scrawled all over her body armor, you think she got her wish…

“Huh? Woah, neato.” Remarks the Rent-A-Cop as the realization suddenly dawns on her. “I look like the walls of a mental patient’s cell, huh?”

It does look pretty cool, you reply with a thoughtful nod. Pretty cool…

“Look, Art–signatures from people from countless backgrounds!” Sybil observes excitedly! Leaning over to take a closer look, you can see what she means: names of all shapes, sizes, and lengths cover the security goon’s armor–some short and sweet, others lengthy and in letters that can’t be English!

Between the soldiers, pirates, and other boneheads that mobbed you, there’s gotta be over one-hundred names and messages on there! “Mitzi, I believe your body armor might have just become an anthropological treasure…” The Goth mutters with a mixture of pride and confusion.

MITZI WILL NOW GET A PERMANENT +5 BONEUS TO ALL OF HER ROLLS! ATTA’ GIRL!

“I’m more impressed that you didn’t notice you were being drawn on.” Art adds with a slightly jealous look on his face.

“Uhhh, driver’s gotta watch the road, pal.” Mitzi retorts irritably as she jabs a finger at the path ahead of the jeep. “Safety first.”

“Sure… say, you wanna trade armor?” Art asks with growing eagerness! “I’ll buy you a drink!”

“Yea, lemme think about it.” Mitzi replies with a smug grin on her face as your wagon trail stops in front of a waving skeleton clad in grease-soaked coveralls. “Alright, thought about it: nah.”

Ha, you snort, he probably wouldn’t even fit in her armor anyways! Dingus!

“Yea well my fist will have no problems fitting down your throat, you gremlin!” Art counters, prompting the two of you to engage in an impromptu kickfight!

“Stop i-STOP IT!” Roars Sybil as Mitzi shuts off the engine. “At least until I’m out of the way, please…”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5346169
Allowing Syb to blink out of the car, you give Art a warning glare before moving to leave yourself. What a coward, hiding behind his amazing girl like that. Truly a sickening creature, that Art.

“Looks like you guys are already having a good time.” Tucker observes as your team convenes outside of the garage.

“Hell yea, we are. Check it out, Keek.” Mitzi commands, prompting both the Keek in question and Eddie to pour over her new threads.

“Yea, what the hell!?” Talbot adds as he stumbles out of the back of the van, “We didn’t get mobbed at all!”

Maybe next quest, buddy! Sending a smug grin his way, you take the opportunity to look around at the mechanics flitting around the vehicles like worker ants! Why the hell did we stop here anyways? The booze and stuff is back near the center!

“Hey, kid.”

Whirling around to face the deep, but familiar voice, a smile creeps onto your face as you recognize the burly, pompadour’d skeleton wearing an unmistakable WHITE T-SHIRT! Scampering over to the big lug, you launch yourself into his broad chest as you shout out his name:

WYATT T!

“The one an’ only.” Wyatt replies with a soft chuckle. Wrapping you in a hug, the greaser lets you down after a few seconds and smiles as his eyes rest on your trusty van. “Ole’ girl’s treatin’ ya’ well, huh?”

Yep, you chirp as Wyatt’s goons flock over to get a closer look, it sure as hell beats walking!

“Might I just add, Mr. T, that it drives really smooth!” Eddie adds, prompting a confused look from one of your favorite greasers.

“These yer new friends, Stan?”

Uh-huh, you nod as you scan your lineup of pals. They’re all a part of the crew!

“Keen. Glad y’all could make it.” Wyatt adds before noticing Gus’ delivery bike. “Nice wheels.”

“Thanks.” Gus nods. “Nice van.”

“Thanks.” Wyatt smiles. “You a gearhead?”

“Sure.” Replies the delivery guy.

“Cool.” Wyatt concludes.

“Uh-oh, I smell a friendship coming on…” Ly remarks.

>CONTD.
>>
>>5346174
So, you interrupt, tearing Gus and Wyatt away from each other’s eyes, what’s on the menu tonight anyways?

“Lessee…” Wyatt thinks aloud as you all take in the sights in the lit-up drive-in, “Drinks, lots of ‘em. Food too, if you’re hungry–they got a whole thing goin’ down at the CONCESSION STAND. Pretty sure some drinking contests are there too. PAULIE’S there too.”

“Hell. Yes.” Talbot grins, exchanging eager looks with Kiki!

“By the projector they’ve got the DANCE FLOOR– I ain’t big into that stuff, but if you are, well…” Shrugs Wyatt.

“Heck yea, we are!” Laughs Mitzi as she tugs at both Denise and Sybil’s shoulders! “C’mon, ladies!”

B-b-b-but I h-have a c-condition!” Protests the geek as Mitzi drags her down the hill with Syb in tow!

GUN RANGE is down there–think I saw some of those COWBOYS down that way. Prizes, too.” Wyatt continues, prompting Tucker, Art, and Eddie to scurry off like kids at a theme park.

“An’ then there’s the ARENA:” The greaser concludes, pointing to a burning circle in the middle of a crowd of cheering skeletons in the parking lot. “Been there a few times now–you get gloves and you try to knock each other outta the ring. Easy. Unless you’re up against those crazy PIRATE BROTHERS, that is.”

“Shiiit, might wanna head there, actually…” Talbot remarks as a vicious glint appears in Kiki’s bang-obscured eyes!

“This here’s the GARAGE, of course. We’ll tune up your rides so they’re purrin’ tomorrow.” Continues Wyatt with pride in his voice. “Stripes is givin' everyone HELICOPTER RIDES here too, if you wanna wait by that landin’ pad over there.”

“I’ll stick around here, Stan.” Gus declares with a hint of excitement in his stoic voice. “Might learn a thing or two.”

“When you guys get too tired, there’s TRAILERS down the hill there.” The greaser adds, pointing to a massive cluster of mobile homes parked in the outskirts of the fort. “They’re all up for grabs–just write yer name on the front so no one barges in, yea?”

“Better than sleepin’ in a car or somethin’, huh, cupcake?” Ly remarks.

“Oh yea, Cliff wanted ta’ chat once he’s done takin’ care of stuff.” Wyatt mutters as if just remembering it. “You’ll find him in da’ MAIN OFFICE.

That might have been the most you’ve ever seen Wyatt talk, but it got the job done! Good work, man!

“Thanks. Been practicin’.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5346181
Having gotten the 411 from good ole’ Wyatt, you watch as all of your friends disperse among the attractions save for Teevor and Rodhi, who look just as bewildered as they did when you showed them a car for the first time.

“Well, erm…” Teevor remarks in a slightly shaky tone, “I suppose we can stay here and learn a thing or two about primitive combustion engines, yes?”

“Mhm…” Rodhi nods nervously. “I’m intrigued by that flying apparatus we saw before, too…”

With everyone more or less off doing their own thing, you’re just about to find something to do yourself when you feel a sharp-clawed something clamber up your back!

“Woah, trash panda.” Wyatt observes as your ‘pet’ makes herself at home on your shoulder. “Reminds me of you, Stan.”

He’s gonna have to explain his reasoning, you snarl, VERY carefully!

“Looks cute an’ cuddly ‘s all.” The greaser shrugs with an unflappable look on his bony face. “Careful she doesn’t get ran over around here, dig?”

You dig, you stammer, still taken off-guard by the sudden compliment. Turning to ask where your first hellish adoptee was this whole time, you recoil in fear as the raccoon holds the MERMAID SMUT in its jaws with a menacing grin on her fuzzy face! Before you can protest, the fiendish critter stuffs the book back into your pocket before curling back up on your shoulder! Sneaky little goblin!

So where are we going first, sis?!” Asks Nats as she practically froths at the disembodied mouth! “Can we do it all?! Will we do it all!? Why are we gonna meet first, huh?!

“Better hurry up, Stan–kid’s gonna explode if dis’ keeps up…” Ly warns with a smile in his tone! Yea, yea, you reply with a smile of your own, she doesn’t have to tell you twice!

As you contemplate your options, you feel an uncanny sensation drift through your head–one that tells you that you might not get a chance to relax like this again for a while! With that in mind, you START with:

DRINK STATUS: BASICALLY SOBER!
>GRAB SOME FOOD AND DRINK AT THE CONCESSION STAND! (HAULIE-PAULIE)
>HIT THE DANCE FLOOR! (SYB, MITZI, DENISE)
>CHECK OUT THE GUN RANGE! (TUCKER, ART, EDDIE, GRAMPS? JOPLINERS?)
>PEEK AT THE ARENA! (TALBOT, KIKI, ANDRE AND MARQUIS?)
>STICK AROUND THE GARAGE FOR A WHILE! (GUS, TEEVOR, RODHI, WYATT)
>WAIT FOR A HELICOPTER RIDE! (STRIPES)
>CLAIM A NICE TRAILER! BEAT THE RUSH!
>LINGER AROUND THE MAIN OFFICE! (CLIFF)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5346184
>HIT THE DANCE FLOOR! (SYB, MITZI, DENISE)
Have Ly and Nats appear to do a three man dance! Either or.

>>>/gif/23124618

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99dVb6Wu_aI
>>
>>5346286
>>5346184

+1 YES support
>>
>>5346286
Ly's ability to do that got taken away, maybe Nats can do some stuff though.
>>
>>5346184
>HIT THE DANCE FLOOR! (SYB, MITZI, DENISE)
Why not? Do this first.
>>
>>5346316
>>5346316
I guess that makes this a bit tricky.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QSgeOaurLO0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qKWRUpYvFzY&t=1565s
>>
>>5346286
>>5346312
>>5346365
>HIT THE DANCE FLOOR!

Writing!
>>
>>5346184

>PEEK AT THE ARENA! (TALBOT, KIKI, ANDRE AND MARQUIS?)

Doubles with Talbot in the Arena anyone?
>>
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You’re not exactly dressed for dancing, but that’s never stopped you before! You CAR NERDS have fun now, you say to Gus and Wyatt as you make your way towards the sound of booming tunes, this girl’s got some dancin’ to do!

“Have fun.” Gus says with a warm smile.

“Yep.” Wyatt adds with a lazy wave. Teevor and Rodhi are already waist-deep in car parts by the time you head down the hill.

Weaving past the rows of bonfires and makeshift stalls set up around the drive-in, you take your time greeting the groups of skeletons situated around them on your way down! Though they don’t bug you for autographs, you do get a few pats on the back and even a free drink or two! Score!

You feel the dance floor before you even see it. Towers of speakers boom tunes across the whole Drive-In with enough volume to make your head rattle as you approach!

“Guess these guys don’t gotta worry about eardrums, do they?” Ly remarks as you squeeze past a perimeter of drinkers and wallflowers. WHAA?

“Nevermind, kid. Have fun.”

YES PLEASE! SHAKE IT, SIS!” Nats shouts, clearly already enjoying herself!

You don’t NEED a gun right now, but okay! Stepping onto the disco floor, you subconsciously start moving your hips to the beat as you take stock of what little you can see in the flashing rainbow of lights!

A MAKESHIFT BAR sits on the edge of the floor operated by a few enterprising skeletons who seem to be doing it out of boredom rather than actual assignment. You don’t see any familiar faces there, but that’s never stopped you from grabbing a drink before!

Thanks to the chaos of moving bodies and bumpin’ tunes, you can’t find your pals anywhere! This ALWAYS happens, damn it–you really need to start putting a bell on Syb or something when you go out!

Getting jiggy with it where you stand, you contemplate your next move as the tunes reverberate throughout your skull!

DRINK STATUS: YEP, STILL SOBER!
>JUST DANCE HERE! YOU’VE GOT LY AND NATS, WHO CARES ABOUT THE OTHERS!?
>TRACK DOWN SYBIL! SHE KNOWS HOW TO MOVE IT!
>FIND MITZI! SHE SEEMS LIKE A FUN GAL TO DANCE WITH!
>SNIFF OUT DENISE! IF SHE SNUCK OFF ALREADY…
>HIT THE BAR–YOU GOTTA LOOSEN UP FIRST!
>COME BACK HERE LATER–YOU’VE GOT A FEW OTHER PLACES TO CHECK OUT!
>WRITE-IN!

FOLLOW-UP QUESTION: WHAT MUSIC IS PLAYING? REMEMBER, YOU GAVE THESE GUYS A WHOLE COLLEGE RECORD STORE’S-WORTH OF TUNES!
>WRITE-IN THE SONG!
>>
>>5346410
>SNIFF OUT DENISE! IF SHE SNUCK OFF ALREADY…
Let’s give her a hand for once. It’s a party after all.
>>
>>5346410
>SNIFF OUT DENISE! IF SHE SNUCK OFF ALREADY…
>>
>>5346410
>TRACK DOWN SYBIL! SHE KNOWS HOW TO MOVE IT!

A Space Age Love Song - Flock of Seagulls
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gOK3rqVgN2I

Black Tide - Warriors of Time
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5VKCLohLM48

Cliffs of Dover - Eric Johnson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aiRn3Zlw3Rw

Dweller on the Threshold - Van Morrison
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KhdUha-ecBc

Expose - Come and Go with Me
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGi3AvfFfuA

Falco - Der Kommissar
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-bgiiTxhzM

George Benson - Give Me The Night
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imYJpr09IgQ

Hank Williams - Hey Good Lookin'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PqfDyPAcBw

It's My Life - No Doubt
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpUgcEc3iLw

Justice - D.A.N.C.E.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sy1dYFGkPUE

King Crimson - 21st Century Schizoid Man
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLstJH23p7k

Led By Lanterns - Alive (feat. Tobi Duncan of Trash Boat)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bBoOIftnCAI

Marty Robbins - Big Iron
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzICMIu5zFY

No Que No - Rigo Tovar
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_q_VRfz5PI

O-Zone - Dragostea Din Tei
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YnopHCL1Jk8

Peanut Butter Jelly - Galantis
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4jBDnYE1WjI

Quiereme - Los Bukis
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cUQZILrshZw

Real McCoy - Another Night
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pav2f4b-1ZE

Slamalists Reinjamnation - Quad City DJs vs. Shoji Meguro
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHOYasiebE4

Twisted Method - Shine
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mEinQlCcR0

Under Pressure - Queen & David Bowie
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YoDh_gHDvkk

Varsity - "Reason To Run"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-UxgHWDIoNM

We like to Party! - Vengaboys
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Zbi0XmGtMw

Yashua - Flyday Chinatown
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5syUvHEQcv8

ZZ Top - La Grange
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vppbdf-qtGU
>>
>>5346501
Hell YEA, anon! I asked for tunes and you friggin' DELIVERED! Props to the King Crimson and ZZ Top.

>>5346477
>>5346500
>SNIFF OUT DENISE!

>>5346501
>SCOUR FOR SYBIL!

Looks like we're DORK HUNTING! ROLL ME 1d100+5 (+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, -5 CRAZY-ASS DANCE FLOOR) TO TRACK HER DOWN! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 54 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5346546
>>
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Rolled 21 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5346546
nat 1 and our embarrassing bunnysuit is revealed
>>
Rolled 71 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5346546
It's what I do.
>>
>>5346547
>>5346559
>>5346560
>HIGHEST ROLL: 76!

Yessir, that'll do 'er! Writing!
>>
>>5346559
Down, boy! Down!
>>
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>>5346573
My crit powers are a majestic force and I shall utilize them as such.
>>
>>5346580
You know not the strength you wield, fool! You will doom us all!
>>
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https://youtu.be/nHOYasiebE4
The horde of undead dancers bursts into cheers as a new jam blasts its way across the Drive-In! Adjusting your hip-shakin’ rhythm accordingly, a chilling thought crosses your mind! Denise, you hiss under your breath, she’s probably totally losing it right now!

“She ain’t much of a people person, true…” Ly remarks as you dance your way through the crowd! You don’t get it, Ly, you continue as you squeeze past a pair of skeleton pirates doing a jig, you’ve gotta find her!

That’s really sweet of you to look out for your friends, sis!” Adds Nats as a skeleton in army fatigues starts busting INSANE MOVES on the floor in front of you, “Let’s check up on her and dance a little!

It’s not that at all, you growl as you politely clap for the breakdancer, if she panics too much she might, like, pass out or something! That’d totally kill the mood! Plus guess who’d totally have to take care of her for the rest of the night?!

Ah… didn’t uh… didn’t think of that one! Ha ha…

Creeping across the dance floor like a rat through a particularly-colorful maze, you’re just about to give up and leave Denise to her inevitable demise when your rubber boots nearly slip on a wet patch of the floor! Damn it, you snarl, there’s always someone pissing on the dance floor!

“Wait, Stan, NERVOUS SYSTEM’S givin' me a report here… Dat’ ain’t piss! It’s SWEAT!

Hot dog, he’s right! And wanting nothing to do with the stuff, the dancers around you avoid the puddles of sweat like the plague! Big deal, you shrug, these could belong to anyone!

Do skeletons sweat, though? I haven’t paid attention.” Asks Nat innocently.

Hey, she’s got a point there! Tracking the pools like a particularly groovy bloodhound, you push past into a circle of dancers to find your quarry…

GETTING JIGGY WITH IT!?

STAN!” Chirps Denise as she flails around the dance floor like a possessed scarecrow, “P-PLEASE JOIN ME!

Looks like some other skeletons beat you to the punch… Surrounded by a cadre of greaser gals and buccaneers, the dweeb actually appears to be having a GOOD TIME! Flabbergasted, you shake your groove thang over to her and ‘get down’ at a safe distance from the geek’s sweaty mop top!

Denise, you observe as the two of you go to funky town, you’re not DEAD!

I KNOW!” She giggles as her oversized labcoat flops around with her spastic movements, “ISN’T IT G-GREAT!?

You can’t believe you’re thinking it, but seeing her this excited… well, it’s not terrible...

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5346603
SO, you shout as the music gets even louder, somehow, YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF!?

YEA!” Giggles the scientist as she begins flailing around like one of those decorative inflatable tube men they have at used car dealerships, “I-IF I JUST TAKE IT EASY I SHOULD BE FINE! D-DID YOU SEE SYBIL? O-OR MITZI? ERRR, OR TALBIE?

There she goes using that nickname again… NO, you reply with a shake of your head, YOU HAVEN’T!

THAT’S OKAY!” Replies Dr. Venaas as she drops into some kind of Russian kick dance, “I’M J-JUST GLAD YOU’RE DANCING WITH ME!

She’d better be! Letting the beat take over, the two of you attract a small crowd of other dancers as you continue to shake it! HEY, you begin-

WHA?!” Denise shouts, craning her ear in your direction, “I-I’M AFRAID I CAN’T HEAR YOU!

“Yea, dis’ place ain’t exactly conductive fer’ a conversation, huh?” Ly muses as you reconsider what you’re actually trying to do.

Who needs WORDS when you’re on the DANCE FLOOR!?” Giggles Nats as she pronounces ‘dance floor’ like an old-timey starlet! “Let your BODY do the talking!

Yea, you’ll think about it. In the meantime, though, did you just wanna check in, or?

>BRING DENISE OVER TO A QUIETER AREA TO TALK!
>TAKE DENISE AND TRY TO TRACK DOWN THE OTHERS!
>LEAVE DENISE AND FIND SOMEONE ELSE (MITZI? SYB?)
>GO GRAB A DRINK AT THE BAR!
>CHALLENGE DENISE TO A DANCE-OFF!
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5346605
>TAKE DENISE AND TRY TO TRACK DOWN THE OTHERS!
>>
>>5346605
>BRING DENISE OVER TO A QUIETER AREA TO TALK!
>GO GRAB A DRINK AT THE BAR!
>>
>>5346676
She needs some H2O in her or she'll die on the dance floor.
>>
Calling it here tonight, folks--getting late on my end and I'm feelin' it. Should have more THURSDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST! Hope to see you then!
>>
>>5346605
>BRING DENISE OVER TO A QUIETER AREA TO TALK!
>GO GRAB A DRINK AT THE BAR!

Water Denise ofc
>>
>>5346686
>>5346676
These. We must ensure the nerd is properly hydrated.
>>
>>5346605
>>5346686 +1
>>
>>5346610
>TRACK DOWN THE OTHERS WITH DENISE!

>>5346676
>>5346686
>>5346748
>>5346801
>HEAD SOMEWHERE QUIETER AND GRAB A DRINK!

Proper hydration is key, folks! Writing!
>>
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>>5347198
As amusing as it is to watch Denise flail her arms around like a madwoman, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a tad bit thirsty. Judging by the growing pool of sweat under her waifish body, you’re guessing she could use something too.

Braving the blonde tornado that is Denise, you grab her firmly by the collar and shout/ask if she wants a drink!

AN E-EXCELLENT IDEA!” She shouts back as her frantic movements slow down somewhat, “IN ALL MY ‘BOOGYING’ I NEGLECTED TO CONSIDER THE AMOUNT OF ENERGY I’D BURN THROUGH–SOME ELECTROLYTIC-

YOU CAN JUST SAY ‘YES’, Y’KNOW! Leading her through the crowd towards the bar, you feel a slight tingle in your inner ear.

“Hey, where’d da’ trash panda run off to?”

You answer your skeleton with a noncommittal shrug–she’s probably off foraging for food or getting run over–she’ll find her way back eventually!

Pushing through a maze of dancing skeletons, you finally manage to locate a clear section of the bar and unceremoniously drop the nerd onto one of the vacant crates being used as stools!

“EYYYY, STANLEY, RIGHT?” Observes one of the bartenders as an exhausted Denise flops onto his bar, “BOSS SAYS YOUR DRINKS ARE COMPED TONIGHT AS LONG AS YA’ DON’T GO OVERBOARD!”

You don’t even know the meaning of the word, you reply with a sly grin!

“THAT’S THE SPIRIT, KID! WHAT CAN I POISON YOU LADIES WITH TONIGHT?”

SHE’LL start with a tall glass of WATER, you begin, pointing a finger at Denise’s grinning, albeit near-comatose form next to you.

AND I’LL H-HAVE A BEER T-TOO!” She announces, raising a trembling, noodly arm into the air! “T-TO CELEBRATE!

Well damn, you blink, guess she’s having a beer too! You’ll have what she’s having!

“GOTCHA, BOSS!” Nods the bartender as he slips below the bar. Peering over to see where he disappeared to, you feel a small, clammy hand land on your back!

Stanley, c-could I say something to you, please? Wh-while we’re alone?

Alarms go off in your head as you raise a hand motioning for her to stop–wait until the drinks arrive, dick!

Something tells you you’re gonna need one…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5347298
Plopping two frosty mugs of ale and a glass of ice water in front of you with a wink, the bartender escapes to another end of the bar as you take your drink and clink it against Denise’s. So, you begin in a wary tone before taking a swig, what’s up?

Gulping down half the glass of water in one go, Denise adjusts her glasses a bit before giving you a determined sigh. “I… I know you don’t like me very much, Stanley.

You blink in response. About time she noticed!

A-and I get it:” She adds in a surprisingly confident tone! “I don’t read the r-room well, I t-tend to grate on people’s nerves, a-and my healthcare providers tell me I have a tendency to be somewhat neurotic.

Wow, you retort, those degrees of theirs really pay for themselves, huh? Taking her mug in hand, Denise guzzles half of the booze in one swig before slamming it back onto the counter!

And t-truth be told, for a long t-time I DESPISED you, Stanley… when you ruined Chess Club for me, I added you to the list of names on my R-REVENGE LIST… r-right near the top, actually.

Finishing her beer like a pro, the dweeb gives you a long, hard stare through her pizza-sized spectacles. “You… you did it all so EFFORTLESSLY, y-you know!? Playing Chess w-was the one thing my father and I h-had, a-and you just waltzed in and dashed everything I had w-worked for on the floor l-like a spilled plate of sp-sp-SPAGHETTI!

Sheesh, mean drunk, you mutter as the bar patrons around you start to stare. Okay, you nod, what’s her point here, exactly?

M-my point, Stan,” Continues the dweeb as she flags down a bartender for a refill, “I-Is that for a long t-time, THAT was my image of you… A d-destructive simpleton… a b-bully…

Receiving her second drink and taking another hearty sip, Denise lets out another long sigh before continuing. “But w-when I met you again, y-you proved me wrong… y-you may be rough around the e-edges, Stanley, but behind that pr-prickly exterior is a genuinely caring a-and brave woman… one that didn’t j-just spare me in that h-horrible laboratory, b-but also t-took me along as an a-ally even when I didn’t deserve it…

A shaky, but genuine smile slowly forms on the girl’s face. “So th-thank you, Stanley… for exceeding my expectations once again. A-and I know it’s t-tough–n-no one knows that better than I d-do–but I hope that o-once th-this is all over y-you’ll ch-change your m-mind about me… s-some day…

Giving your unfinished beer a polite clink, Denise finishes hers and gently pushes the empty mug over to the other side of the bar. “Th-that’s enough b-booze f-for me, h-ha ha…

Well… you mutter as you raise your drink to your lips, shit...

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5347300
Still recovering from the sudden bout of word vomit from your dance partner, you take another sip from your glass as you contemplate how exactly to respond.

“Huh.” Ly remarks, “Ain’t dat’ somethin’.”

Wow, Stan…” Nats adds, “She really poured her heart out to you, huh?

I-I’M SORRY!” The scientist sputters, “I-I ruined the mood, d-didn’t I? I always do that… L-look, Stanley, wh-why don’t we just talk about s-something else, hmm?

Well at least you can hear each other now, right? What do you tackle next?
DRINK STATUS: STILL PRETTY SOBER. :C
>APOLOGIZE FOR BEING SO FREAKISHLY GOOD AT CHESS-YOU DIDN’T MEAN TO RUIN IT FOR HER!
>JUST TELL HER IT’S ALL GOOD AND CLINK THAT GLASS! NO NEED TO GO CRAZY HERE!
>GIVE THIS SWEATY GOBLIN A HUG–SHE’S EARNED ONE!
>CHANGE THE SUBJECT QUICKLY! NO TIME TO LOSE!
>GIVE HER A NOOGIE! THE HELL IS SHE DOING DROPPING A BOMB ON YOU LIKE THAT?
>WHOOPS, YOU GOTTA GO FIND SYB OR MITZ! BACK IN A BIT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>GIVE THIS SWEATY GOBLIN A HUG–SHE’S EARNED ONE!
>>
>>5347301
>>GIVE THIS SWEATY GOBLIN A HUG–SHE’S EARNED ONE!
>>
>>5347301
>GIVE THIS SWEATY GOBLIN A HUG–SHE’S EARNED ONE!
But make sure we toss a stiff glare at anybody who takes too much notice.
>>
>>5347318
>>5347320
>>5347335
>HUG IT OUT, BITCH!
Writing!
>>
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Giving the surrounding patrons a preemptive glare, you give Denise a long, hard stare before tackling her into a hug! Yelping in surprise, the scientist sits stunned for a moment as you briefly regret wrapping your arms around the sweatiest member of the team. Just when you’re about to release her and track down some paper towels for your arms, Denise returns your gesture with a shaky hug of her own!

H-heheh… O-okay…

Just… just quit being weird for a sec and accept the hug, you hiss, lingering in the embrace for a few more seconds. Jeez…

I kn-know I’m n-not the most helpful one on the team, Stanley,” She continues, “B-but wh-whatever happens tomorrow, I h-hope I can continue t-to assist in any w-way I can…

Well right now she can help by chillaxing, you respond, letting her free from your hug, so DO it!

Roger th-that!” Giggles Denise with a fake salute! “S-so should w-we track down the others, or?

Good question! What’s yer’ answer?
DRINK STATUS: GUESS.
>ASK HOW SHE PLANS TO HELP OUT TOMORROW!
>INQUIRE AS TO HOW SHE AND TALBOT ARE DOING. HE WAS KINDA PEEVED AT HER BEFORE!
>ANY UPDATES ON TRAITORS?
>WHAT’S SHE PLAN TO DO ONCE THIS IS ALL OVER?
>LET’S FIND THE OTHERS!
>BE BACK LATER–GONNA DO SOMETHING ELSE REAL QUICK!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5347359
>WHAT’S SHE PLAN TO DO ONCE THIS IS ALL OVER?
>LET’S FIND THE OTHERS!
Find the other girls and have a dance-off.

I bet she would get along with Teevor and Rohdi really well. Teevor’s mind was blow by Talbot’s symbiosis with the goodboynium IIRC, and Denise is the one that figured that out.
>>
>>5347359
>INQUIRE AS TO HOW SHE AND TALBOT ARE DOING. HE WAS KINDA PEEVED AT HER BEFORE!
>LET’S FIND THE OTHERS!
>>
>>5347375

+1
>>
>>5347375
>>5347441
>WHAT'S SHE GONNA DO AFTER THIS?
>FIND THE OTHERS!

>>5347382
>YOU AND TALBOT COOL?
>ALSO FIND THE OTHERS!

Writing!
>>
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imYJpr09IgQ
Finishing your remaining beer, you sign the counter with your handy dandy PERMANENT MARKER in lieu of a tip before hopping off the makeshift barstool! C’mon, four-eyes, you mutter as you help Denise to her wobbly feet, let’s go track down the other party animals!

U-Use caution, Stanley…” She warns as you dive into the sea of dancers once again, “They w-were debating over who was the b-better dancer when we sp-split off…

Well THAT’S an easy question to answer, you reply, puffing out your chest with pride! All the more reason to track Mitz and Syb down! Without the help of any convenient piles of sweat, however, you’re forced to follow your FEMININE INTUITION!

“...‘Dis is gonna take a while, ain’t it?”

Who CARES?! Listen to these tunes~!” Counters Nats as you scour the crowd for your dumb friends! So, you begin as you drag the dork through a crowd of skeletons sporting afros and funky clothes, what’s her big plan once you totally kick TIM’S ass, huh? Since, y’know, she doesn’t have a lab anymore!

True… well g-given the circumstances, It’d be a dream c-come true to survey that ATLANTEAN LAB y-you tracked down… from what I’ve gl-gleaned from Teevor and Rodhi, there’s a tr-treasure trove of information just waiting to be unearthed!

Well she’d better steer clear of the whole ‘DEMON SUMMONING’ variety, you warn, or you’re gonna enroll her in a free seminar on GETTING HER ASS KICKED! A full scholarship!

Yes, Teevor mentioned so-something similar…” Denise explains as you pass a quartet of tap dancers. “N-not my field of expert-tise, thankfully… now that OTHER technology, though…

The scientist grins from ear to ear. Well, you remark as you continue your search, she’ll have plenty of help from those two–that should speed things along, right?

I’m not so s-sure…” Denise replies with a slight frown. “Wh-when I asked if they would assist me once order is restored, they d-declined…

Well that’s stupid, you growl, what ELSE do they have going on after this!?

My thoughts ex-exactly… maybe they wish to learn more about human technology? They seemed quite enthralled with the car we rode up here…

You respond with a shrug. Nerds–you just don’t get ‘em!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5347502
Just when you’re about to join a nearby conga line, you hear a familiar, perpetually-chill voice from deeper in the crowd!

“-nd that cute little tooth of hers, right? Man-”

Before you can connect the dots, some familiar faces do it for you: emerging from the crowd ahead, both Syb and Mitzi giggle before the latter gasps with faux-shock!

“Uhh, do you mind, Stan? We’re having a PRIVATE conversation here.”

“Top Secret!” Sybil adds with a snicker!

Yea, very secret, dummies–they’re chatting in the middle of the friggin’ dancefloor!

“Well shoot, ya’ got me there, boss.” Mitzi shrugs with a half-smile.

“Jokes aside, I didn’t expect to see you down here so soon, Stanley!” Observes Sybil with a cheerful grin on her pale face! “What a pleasant surprise!”

“Told ya’ she’d come sniffin’ around for me.” Laughs Mitz as she gives you a wink! “Just kiddin’. And hey, you even found Denny!” Giving the scientist’s bird’s nest hair a playful tousle, the Rent-A-Cop raises an eyebrow your way. “Didja see her moves?”

“She’s fantastic!” Sybil adds as a big, dopey grin forms on Denise’s face. “We got separated when we obtained drinks, though–this is quite the dance floor!”

“And here we are NOT dancing!” Mitzi groans impatiently! “What’s the deal?”

The deal, you reply with a mischievous grin on your face, is that you heard they were trying to settle who the best dancer was…

“Heard about that, huh?” Remarks Mitzi with a glint in her eye! “Well we’ve got a practitioner of the scientific method here–why don’t we put that theory to test?”

“Let’s!” Sybil replies with a competitive spark in her voice! “It’s been a while since I’ve dragged Stanley to the club…”

That’s because she kept taking you to the one with all the Goth people and big cages, you counter! This playing field’s even…er!

I’m st-still a little tired, so I can j-judge!” Denise announces, prompting a trio of hard glares her way.

“Yea, nah–we’re gonna need someone impartial.” Mitzi replies before tapping a nearby skeleton biker on the shoulder. “Hey buddy, you and your pals wanna judge a dance contest?”

WOULD I!” Roars the skeleton!

“Cool. We’re gonna hash out what I get when I win first, so don’t go away.” Giving the judge another friendly pat on the shoulder, Mitzi turns back your way with crossed arms and a predatory grin!

“So, boss, what DO I get when I win?”

“Rather, what do I get when I win, hm?” Counters Syb as she hip-checks the Rent-A-Cop out of the way!

Ooh boy, things are heatin’ up, sis!

Yea, you noticed.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5347503
It takes you a few moments to go over the nitty-gritty's…

QUESTION 1: WHAT ARE THE STAKES?!
>WINNER GETS BOOZE!
>LOSERS HAVE TO DO A DARE PROVIDED BY THE WINNER!
>NO STAKES, JUST FUN!
>LOSERS SHARE AN EMBARRASSING SECRET!
>LOSERS BUY THE WINNER DINNER WHEN THIS IS ALL OVER!
>WRITE-IN!

QUESTION 2: WHAT SONG WILL STAN DANCE TO? WRITE-IN SOMETHING FUNKY OR RISK BONES CHOOSING SOMETHING STUPID! ALSO YOU’LL GET A +5 MODIFIER!

>WRITE-IN STAN’S SONG!

QUESTION 3: WHAT SONG WILL MITZI DANCE TO? WRITING IN SOMETHING FITTING WILL GIVE HER A -5 MODIFIER!
>WRITE-IN MITZI’S SONG!!

QUESTION 4: WHAT SONG WILL SYBIL DANCE TO? WRITING IN SOMETHING FITTING WILL GIVE HER A -5 MODIFIER!
>WRITE-IN SYBIL’S SONG!
>>
>>5347508
>LOSERS HAVE TO DO A DARE PROVIDED BY THE WINNER!
>STAN
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NF-kLy44Hls
>MITZI
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_fUftP91lc
>SYBIL
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIb6AZdTr-A

I stan the Stan so ofc I gave everyone else unfitting songs. Someone do better than me.
>>
>>5347508
>LOSERS SHARE AN EMBARRASSING SECRET!
Or
>LOSERS HAVE TO DO A DARE PROVIDED BY THE WINNER!
Whichever seems more popular. I’m down with either.

>>5347570
> I stan the Stan so ofc I gave everyone else unfitting songs. Someone do better than me.
Don’t look at me, dude. My musical listening consists of classic rock and metal. That’s it.
>>
>>5347595
>>5347508

Kek let's have them do both if they lose.

I was gonna have Syb actually do
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wuJIqmha2Hk
And though it is a middle-finger at her gothiness, it isn't dance-party worthy.

Based music tastes btw.
>>
>>5347508
>LOSERS SHARE AN EMBARRASSING SECRET!

But alas, I lack culture to suggest songs.
>>
>>5347597

Alternatively, for Stan, I would've suggested:
>1
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k8f4lcwKz6g

>2
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QzlNFcT2aOE
>3
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GcnGOaIau1M&t=0s
>4
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suRsxpoAc5w

But Daft Punk has a hell of a vibe. And Stan needs some vibing after the Atlantean shitshow she just went through.

Feel free to give some extra input, anons.
>>
>>5347595
>>5347597
>EMBARRASSING SECRET AND DARE!

>>5347598
>JUST SECRET PLZ

Not bad song choices, folks, not bad at all... here's how it's gonna go, then:

ROLL ME 1d100+15 (+5 SONG CHOICE, +5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 FENCER'S FEMURS, -5 TOUGH COMPETITION) TO STRUT IT! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Once three rolls have been made, I'll roll 3d100 for both MITZ and SYB! BONEUSES and MALUSES are as follows:

MITZ:
+5 AUTOGRAPH BONEUS, YOU FOOLS!
+5 TOMBOY TREADS (STUPID SEXY MITZI!)
+5 ACTUAL DANCING EXPERIENCE! OH NO!
-5 SONG CHOICE!

SYBIL:
+5 GOTH RACIAL BONEUS TO DANCING!
-5 SONG CHOICE!

Best of luck! Don't forget to include any DANCE MOVES you can think of! Stan's social life is at stake!
>>
>>5347597
> Kek let's have them do both if they lose.
I’m down with that.

>Based music tastes btw.
Thanks.

>>5347603
I think I like number two the best here.

It’s not exactly goth (not even close, really), but I think this might suit Syb a bit:
https://youtu.be/stfn-WS3bE4

This would be easier were I at home.
>>
>>5347615
We need to focus on leg work. We got Fencer’s Femurs and Emu Legs. That’s our best bet. Something with a lot of pirouettes and maybe a moon-walk or two.
>>
Rolled 16 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5347615
roll time-- my time to shine!
>>
>>5347618

Something like this?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zQm5jfiu4w
Damn there's a hell of a dance-worthy song here.
>>
Gonna call it here tonight, folks--getting tired and wanna be fresh and funky for whatever weird-ass dance routine I have to piece together in the next update. Seeya then!

Also, word of warning: Sybil and Mitzi WILL be bringing their A-GAME!
>>
Rolled 98 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5347618
Forgot me dice.
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>5347615
>>
The real question, can Mitz or Syb pull a 100?
>>
>>5347644
The answer: If either of them do, then Bones rigged this shit hard.
>>
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>>5347644
How about can we pull some more ones?
>>
Rolled 2, 16, 63 + 15 = 96 (3d100 + 15)

>>5347619
>>5347638
>>5347641
>HIGHEST ROLL: 113!

Tough competition indeed... let's see how MITZI fares! 3d100+15, here goes! Syb's next!
>>
Rolled 61, 28, 12 = 101 (3d100)

>>5348200
Ooh, not good enough! And now SYBIL! 3d100! I'll be writing after this roll!
>>
>>5348201
>>5348200
Here's the dance moves.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbiOazijZVQ
>>
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Oh, you’ve got a bet for them, alright! And it’s got some CHEST HAIR! Losers, A.K.A THEM, you clarify with a cheeky grin, have to SHARE AN EMBARRASSING SECRET! And you mean ‘EMBARRASSING, not, like, something kinda funny!

“Pssh, kid’s stuff.” Mitzi snickers as Syb muffles her own giggle with her hand. “Thought this was a party, Stan, not Kindergarten-”

AND, you add in a menacing tone, the losers ALSO have to do… A DARE! AND THE WINNER DECIDES WHAT THAT IS!
https://youtu.be/tPs2m9_7cls
“Oh… oh dear.” Sybil mutters as fear grows in her eyes.

“What’s up? You backin’ out already?” Asks Mitzi as she nudges The Goth in her ribs!

“N-no,” She replies in a shaky voice, “I just know that Stan can get, erm, very creative when it comes to dares…”

“No sweat, purp--she ain’t gonna win!” Laughs the Rent-A-Cop as she taps the skeleton judge on the shoulder again. “Hey pal, can one of your buddies take a few song requests up to the DJ?”

“Arrr, ‘twill be a cold day in ‘ell fore BILLY BLINDEYE fails ta’ be deliverin’ a missive!” Boasts one of the biker’s pirate pals dancing next to him!

“Sweet. Got a few songs for ya. You wanna go first, Stan?”

Nah, you grin, you prefer to save the best for LAST!

“Cool. Poke me when you and Syb have gone, then.”

That’s NOT what you meant and she KNOWS it!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5348304
By the time the song requests are set up, a massive crowd has already formed around your entourage.

Best of l-luck!” Cheers Denise as Sybil takes to the dance floor! Tightening the leather straps on her TALL-ASS GOTH PLATFORM BOOTS, she pauses to scan the crowd with an impatient frown on her face.

D’aww, is she looking for Artie? That’s a bummer!” Nats remarks as Sybil gives the DJ the signal to begin!

“Wonder what kinda song she picked!” Ly adds as the lights dim around you! “Gonna be a hard act ta’ follow!”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIb6AZdTr-A
Oh.

“... huh.”

Swaying to the beat like a stalk of seaweed, you can’t help but be a little impressed by just how smooth Syb’s moves are. Like, if you didn’t know her better you’d think she was some kind of noodle/human hybrid!

Stepping and twirling to the beat, Sybil’s certainly has the form down! Spinning around the circle, The Goth’s confidence grows with each step, and before long she’s got the whole crowd clapping to the unusually-cheerful beat!

Is… is this normal?” Asks Nats as Sybil shimmies across the floor!

“Not fer’ her, nah…” Ly answers with noticeable concern in his voice. “They never played dis’ stuff at da’ Goth Clubs…”

Despite the odd music choice, the girl OWNS it! Hand-jivin’ to the beat, your BFF sends a challenging glare your way before finishing with one final trick! Blinking out of view for a second, the crowd goes wild as Sybil reappears in the air and twirls all the way back down to the ground! Landing gracefully on her pointed toes, The Goth ends the song by flicking a hand through her hair before leaving the circle with a cocky smirk!

Needless to say, the crowd LOVES it!

W-wOW!” Denise sputters while frantically-clapping, “Th-that was amazing, Sybil!

“Ohh, it wasn’t that good…” The Goth replies, covering up a giggle with her pale hand!

“Pretty bold of you to do that aerial trick wearing a long sweater.” Mitzi remarks, prompting the small amount of color remaining on Sybil’s face to drain in shock. “Whatja think, boss? You nervous yet?”

No-friggin’-way, you reply! But she’d better be!

“Hey now, play your cards right and I’ll go easy on your dare, Stan.” Mitzi winks as Sybil slinks behind you and Denise still paralyzed with embarrassment. Crossing your arms impatiently, you raise an eyebrow at Mitzi as she takes a moment to stretch before entering the circle.

Man, what a TRYHARD!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5348305
Recognized immediately by the signatures all over her armor, the crowd immediately bursts into cheers as the terrible tomboy takes to the dance floor! Responding to them with a nonchalant wave like the total BITCH she is, Mitzi gives you and Syb a half-smirk as the next song begins!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_fUftP91lc

In typical Mitzi fashion, the Rent-A-Cop starts off slow–step, touch, step, touch… but with each move she makes, you notice a new addition, starting with a subtle sway of her hips. Adding her arms and torso into the mix, it’s not long before Mitzi’s moving everything--gyrating to the beat, she maintains a confident grin on her face as her movements captivate the whole crowd, even YOU!

“Cripes,” Ly remarks as he watches her move, “She’s uh… she really knows how ta’ move it…”

Still hypnotized, you respond with a weak nod as Mitzi moves around the circle timing her hip movements to the beat! As the crowd claps to her rhythm, the tomboy lingers in front of you to send a teasing wink your way–hey, that’s CHEATING!

Departing before you can call her out, Mitzi puts her whole body into the final section of the song. Sybil was good, of course, but her… if Sybil’s a noodle, Mitzi’s a charmed snake! Probably those damned abs of hers. Stupid Mitzi.

As the last few notes of the song trail off, the Rent-A-Cop finishes with the same poise and confidence she had going in. Shaking a single drop of sweat out of her cinnamon-colored hair, she gives the roaring crowd another half-hearted wave as she returns to your side of the circle smirking like she just remembered an old joke.

“So,” she begins as a skeleton hands her a fresh bottle of beer, “Whatja’ think?”

I-I-IT’S SO HARD TO DECIIIDE!” Denise moans as she tugs at her frazzled hair! “Y-you’ve got the m-moves, Mitzi! J-j-jealous…

“Eh, it’s all in the hips.” Mitz shrugs, giving hers one more shake before chugging half the bottle. “Phew… hey, you wanna picture, Stan? It’ll last longer~”

You don’t want anything, you counter as you quickly avert your eyes from your smug opponent! Except for her to promise not to CRY once you kick her butt!

“Knock ‘em dead, boss. No pressure.” Ignoring her cheeky wink and Syb’s quiet giggle, you crack your knuckles as you make your way to the dance floor.

Hell yea, sis! You got this!” Nats chirps as the lights dim around you!

“I know I don’t gotta say it, cupcake, but uh… don’t lose.” Ly adds in an unsure tone. Gee, THANKS.

G-GO S-STAN!” Denise hollers, prompting the skeletons around you to explode into cheers! Watching your adoring fans shower you with praise, a toothy grin forms on your face.

Now that’s what you’re talkin’ about!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5348306
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NF-kLy44Hls

You hate to admit it, but you’re nowhere near as coordinated as Syb and Mitzi are, so you stick with your strengths! Swaying your hips to the slow beat, you let your legs do the talkin’ as the song gets started!

Stepping in time with the beat, your BONEUSES give your legs and hips articulation you wouldn’t have otherwise, and as you shimmy and kick around the floor, it isn’t long before the rest of the crowd gets into it too!

As the crowd starts to clap in rhythm, you bring your arms and torso into the dance too–shifting and swaying like your life depends on it! And it does, kinda!

Taking a few chances, you mix in a few risky moves you remember from MeTube like that moonwalk move you always see people do!

“Holy COW,” Ly remarks as you slide backwards along the flashy floor, “When did we learn ta’ do DAT?

Uh, never, you smirk, pirouetting into a series of hip thrusts! It’s all natural, baby!

Losing yourself to the groove, you don’t even have to think about what you’re gonna do next–your movement becomes fluid as the crowd gets increasingly more hype, and as the song reaches its last few bars, you end your routine with a BANG!

WHAT’S YOUR FINISHING MOVE?! NO ROLLS NEEDED!
>THE TRADEMARK FLIP AND KNEE-SLIDE, OF COURSE!
>GET UP IN MITZ AND SYB’S GRILLES!
>YOU’VE GOT GUNS–FIRE SOME OF THOSE!
>SPIN UNTIL YOU CAN’T SEE STRAIGHT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5348311
>>THE TRADEMARK FLIP AND KNEE-SLIDE, OF COURSE!
>>GET UP IN MITZ AND SYB’S GRILLES!
>>
>>5348311

> USE YOUR ELEMENTAL POWERS TO REALLY CRANK UP THE HEAT
>>
>>5348314
Dis.
>>
>>5348311
Standing doubleback flip to a front split.
>>
Disregard this >>5348339

Do both of these.
>>5348314
>>5348329

I am the same anon, if that weren’t obvious.
>>
>>5348314
>>5348329
>>5348373
>THE CLASSIC
>AND GET UP IN THEIR GRILLES
>ALSO MAYBE ADD SOME FIRE TO IT

>>5348340
>FUCK IT, LET'S ADD THIS IN THERE TOO! WE CAN SLIDE AND SPLIT, THIS IS BONES QUEST, DAMN IT

That's the ticket, folks. Wouldn't be Stan without overwhelming amounts of rubbing it in your opponent's faces! Writing!

>>5348373
Same anon, huh? I'm watching you, punk! Tread carefully!
>>
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Empowered by the cheering crowd, you decide to go a little ‘nuts’ as they say and try a new twist on an old classic! Starting by taking a few steps back from where Mitz and Syb are, you wait for the right moment in the song before leaping into action–literally!

“Hahaha, oh shit, here it comes!” Ly announces as you rush forward, but then push off the floor with both feet! Carried forward by your momentum, you tuck and lean into a backwards somersault… but not before flicking the ‘switch’ to activate your ELEMENTAL POWERS!

Sending flames into the air mid-spin using your BONE CLAWS, you add an extra helping of icing on the cake by adding ANOTHER spin! As the crowd erupts in baffled cheers and both Syb and Mitz’ unflappable expressions become, well, flappable, you feel time slow to a crawl as you descend like a phoenix towards the floor below!

Landing in a forwards-split made possible thanks to the handy articulation only COVERALLS and MAGICAL BUNNY SUITS can provide, you slide over to your opponents dragging your burning claws along the ground! Besides totally ruining the floor, you end the song panting in front of Syb and Mitz with a trail of fire behind you!

For a moment, all is silent save for the gunfire at the range and the countless other partygoers, but you get the idea! Just when you’re about to tell the judge to get his shit in gear, he gets it!

“Ladies and Gentlebones,” announces the biker as he strides over to your still-prone form, “We have a friggin’ WINNER!

Exploding into cheers, the audience doesn’t seem to have any problems with the results! Sharing a ‘what can ya do’ shrug, both Syb and Mitzi approach you along with Denise.

Th-that f-finale!” The geek gushes, looking to your two opponents for approval, “F-fantastic, Stanley! A-and the splits!

Now THAT’S dancing!” Laughs Nats’ disembodied voice!

“It’s definitely somethin’, ain’t it?” Remarks Ly.

“Where did you learn those moves, anyways?” Asks Syb as she straightens out her sweater. “Your powers are new, of course, but-”

But nothin’, you reply with a grin, they’re all-natural!

“And, for what it’s worth, really cool.” Mitzi adds as a smile forms on her face! “You uh… you comfortable down there?”

Nope, you’re stuck! Help, by the way.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5348484
After being carefully lifted by your pals, you take a moment to catch your breath as the DJ resumes spinning tracks!
https://youtu.be/Pav2f4b-1ZE

“So,” Mitzi begins as you all resume groovin’ to the beat, “Guess we owe you a SECRET and a DARE, huh?”

That’s right, bitch, and you want ‘em NOW!

“Eerm, what’s first?” Asks Sybil as Denise lingers just close enough to eavesdrop! “A-and we have the ability to veto, right?”

Wrong! Let’s start with those EMBARRASSING SECRETS, you command as you usher the losers over to a quieter area! And don’t even THINK of skimpin’ on the details or Ly will know!

“I will!” Warns your skeleton’s disembodied voice! “Ready, Stan!”

“It cool if I go first?” Asks Mitzi in a slightly less-confident tone than before. It very cool, you smirk! Lay it on me!

“Alright, here goes…” Begins the tomboy with a short, steadying sigh. “No laughing, got it?!”

No promises! GO!

“Worth a try… so before I was all into water polo and swimming and stuff, I’d spend a lot of my time down at the beach.” She explains. “Musta’ been the Summer between eighth an’ ninth grade or something, so I was still kinda young, y’know?”

Sure, you nod, struggling to imagine a younger Mitzi despite having gone to Summer Camp with her. Would she have pigtails? Braces? Flowers in her hair?

“I went there alone to get away from sis and dad, but there were a few people hanging around. Being the beach an’ all, the water was a lot choppier than the pool, but I still thought I was bulletproof back then. So when I was swimming and saw a big wave coming, I didn’t really react… until it pushed me underwater into a rock.”

Oh no! W-what happened next?!” Asks Denise as she clasps her cheeks in shock!

Yea, you nod, that’s not embarrassing at all!

“I’m getting there, sheesh!” Groans the tomboy before continuing. “So naturally I blacked out… when I came to, though, I felt someone’s lips… pressed against mine.”

You feel your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets! What the HELL!? What a CREEP!

“I thought so too until I realized they belonged to the lifeguard!” Laughs Mitz as she sheepishly rubs the back of her neck! “So she pulled back once I woke up, yea? And she and some of the other bystanders were glowing red like tomato people or something!”

“And um… why were they so embarrassed?” Asks Syb, clearly getting into it too!

“That’s the thing…” Mitzi concludes, “When she was giving me mouth-to-mouth, I might have unconsciously reached around and, uh… grabbed her.”

Oh.

“Well…” Sybil stammers with a rapidly-reddening face, “Th-those reflexive actions happen all the ti-”

“Aaand I might have made some noises when she was on top of me.” Sighs Mitzi, prompting everyone to go silent. “Yyyep. Big moment for ole’ Mitz.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5348486
As you all struggle to maintain an awkward silence with music booming in your ears, Sybil steps up to the plate to try and salvage things!

“Now now, Mitzi… that might have been embarrassing at the time, but those kinds of things happen to everyone! Why-”

“Yea, yea, quit stallin' and tell YOUR secret already.” Interrupts the tomboy with a malicious glint in her eye! “We’re waiting~”

Yea, you nod eagerly! It’s her turn now!

“I erm… I suppose it is, isn’t it?” Gulps Sybil as she loses a bit of her composure. “Well alright then… once when I was recording a podca-”

EMBARRASSING. SECRET. What’s so hard to grasp, you snarl, smacking your fist against a nearby lamppost!

As you, Mitzi, and even Denise start chanting the word ‘secret’, Sybil finally cracks with a high-pitched squeal/groan! A squroan!

“Okay, OKAY! Stan…”

Yeeeesss?

“I erm… I…” She sputters, frantically checking around her as beads of sweat drip down her face, “P-promise you w-won’t t-tell Art?”

No!

“Just get it over with, purp. Feels better once you get it outta your system.” Mitzi adds impatiently.

IMAYHAVEHADAHUGEHUGECRUSHONYOURBROTHERWHENWEWEREGROWINGUPANDISTILLTOTALLYDIDBEFOREANDAFTERHEGOTMARRIEDOKAYI’MSORRYINEVERACTEDONITANDISTILLLOVEYOUASLIKEASISTERINEVERHADBUTOHMYGODSTANOHMYGOOODTHEWAYSUEWASALWAYSPRACTICINGMARTIALARTSANDGETTINGALLSWEATYIALWAYSTRIEDTOCOMEOVERWHENHEWASDOINGTHATBECAUSEMYGODHE’SSUCHASTALLIONSTANHE’SSUCHASTALLIONIMEANHOLYCRAPIWASALWAYSSOCLOSETOASKINGTOSPARWITHHIMSOTHATHECOULDTOSSMEONTOTHEPADSAN-

HOKAYYYY, you interrupt as you cut Sybil off with a chokehold, that was fun, wasn’t it? We had fun! Okay, time for dares–everyone ready for dares?!

“Nope,” Replies Mitzi as she watches Sybil weakly flail in your grasp, “But let’s do it anyways...”

Grrck… F-forgive me…” Croaks Sybil as you tighten your elbow around her neck. Sounds good to you!

Are um… are we NOT going to talk about how Sybil could have been our sister-in-l-

“Just drop it, kid–it’ll only cause more damage…” Ly sighs as you chokeslam your best friend onto the ground! Sweet, stupid Sybil....

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5348493
As she starts to fight back by kicking you in the stomach, you take a moment to consider what DEVIOUS DARES you have for these two!

Q1: WHAT SHALL MITZI DO?
>GET A BUNCH OF HARD DRINKS, MIX ‘EM TOGETHER AND CHUG ‘EM!
>SPEND THE REST OF THE PARTY WITH NO ARMOR OR TANK TOP ON! PANTS ARE FINE!
>FIND ONE OF THE GUYS AND SMACK HIM ON THE BUTT!
>SING KARAOKE IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE DANCE FLOOR!
>YOU’LL THINK OF SOMETHING LATER… BUT SOON!
>WRITE-IN!

Q2: WHAT SHALL SYBIL DO?
>GET A BUNCH OF HARD DRINKS, MIX ‘EM TOGETHER AND CHUG ‘EM!
>PULL YOUR SWEATER DOWN AND WEAR IT LIKE A KILT!
>FIND ONE OF THE GUYS AND SMACK HIM ON THE BUTT! NO, IT CAN’T BE ART, CHEATER!
>SING KARAOKE IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE DANCE FLOOR!
>YOU’LL THINK OF SOMETHING LATER… BUT SOON!
>>
>>5348496
>SING KARAOKE IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE DANCE FLOOR!
>SING KARAOKE IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE DANCE FLOOR!

Double your pleasure? Double your fun?
>>
>>5348496
>>SING KARAOKE IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE DANCE FLOOR!
>>SING KARAOKE IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE DANCE FLOOR!
>>
>>5348537
A duet.
>>
>>5348537
>>5348569
>DUET KARAOKE!

A duet it do! Writing! Start thinking of songs, you dinguses...
>>
>>5348626
Someone with more knowledge of cringey duets, it's your time to shine...
>>
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Releasing your death grip on Sybil’s throat, you let out a drawn-out sigh as your best friend gasps for air after giving you another kick!

Your DARES, you begin in a sinister tone, should you choose to accept them-

“Can we choose not to?” Asks Mitzi as Sybil slowly rises to her feet.

No, you can’t! Now shaddap! Like you were saying, you huff, you DARE them…

TO DO KARAOKE!

“Wait, really?” Gasps Sybil as both she and Mitzi raise an eyebrow your way.

A DUET!

“... a duet?”

IN FRONT OF EVERYONE!

Rubbing your hands together while a wicked little laugh escapes your lips, your devilish mirth is cut short when neither of them seem to flinch much! What gives!?

“I mean… to be honest I was expecting something worse.” Mitzi shrugs as Sybil nods next to her.

“Yes… much worse. This also means once we do this we’re off the hook, right?”

“Sweet. I’m already a little buzzed too–got a song in mind, partner?” Mitzi asks with a grin!

“You bet I do!” Sybil winks!

Hey, wait, you stammer as the two trot in the direction of the DJ Booth, they’re supposed to be MORTIFIED! Come BACK!

D’aww, they’re becoming great friends, aren’t they? Ya’ love to see it!” Nats remarks as your two marks disappear into the crowd. No, you growl, you DON’T love to see it! They were supposed to grovel a bit more!

“Too late now, kiddo.” Says Ly as he borrows your shoulders for a shrug. “Guess all dat’s left is to enjoy da’ show!”

C-come on, Stanley!” Squeaks Denise as she tugs your sleeve towards the bar, “W-we can get another dr-drink before they start!

That’s the best idea you’ve heard from her, well, ever! Letting her lead you to the watering hole, you watch as Syb and Mitz schmooze their way up to the DJ Booth and whisper something to one of the skeletons on standby. Nodding excitedly, the skeleton sidles up to the current DJ and relays whatever they said to him! Taking a seat at the bar, you and the rest of the dancefloor patrons eagerly await the next event!

CHOOSE A SONG FOR SYB AND MITZI TO SING! IF YOU DON’T HAVE A SPECIFIC ONE IN MIND, CHOOSE A GENRE BELOW AND I’LL PICK SOMETHING CRINGE!
>CLASSIC ROCK
>COUNTRY
>RAP
>OLDIES
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5348626
Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder - Ebony and Ivory
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TZtiJN6yiik

Cyndi Lauper - Girls Just Want To Have Fun (Official Video)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIb6AZdTr-A

Michael Jackson,Paul MCcartney - The Girl is mine
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txedWZLKT0Q&t=135s

Barbie Girl – Aqua
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZyhrYis509A

Don't You Want Me - The Human League
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPudE8nDog0

Don't Go Breaking My Heart - Elton John with Kiki Dee
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0qW9P-uYfM

I Can't Help It - Hank Williams & Anita Carter
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hw8lVU0m0XI

The Sounds of Silence - Simon & Garfunkel
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4fWyzwo1xg0

You're The One That I Want - John Travolta And Olivia Newton John
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=itRFjzQICJU
>>
>>5348639
I'm gonna stop pullin' my punches on these bitches.

>WRITE-IN!
Paradise By The Dashboard Light - Meat Loaf
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C11MzbEcHlw
>>
>>5348682
Syb sings Meat Loaf's part.
>>
>>5348682
>>5348688
I’ll support this since I couldn’t have done any better, and this guy put in effort.
>>
>>5348682
>>5348688
>>5348755
They did put in some effort, didn't they? Good choice on the MEAT LOAF, anon!

Also lol'ing at Syb and Mitzi choosing an 8 minute song. Writing!
>>
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Having finished their discussion with the disk jockey, Syb and Mitz exchange excited glances as the MC whips out a pair of MICROPHONES from behind his setup! Handing one over to Syb and holding on to the second for a moment, the record-spinnin’ skeleton gains the dance floor’s attention by rapping the device with his bony knuckles!

LADIES AN’ GENTLEBONES, let me be the first to say on the behalf of SKELE-TUNES PRE-APOCALYPTIC RADIO, no longer your 24 Hour stop for BEATS TO KILL MEATBAGS TO and now just the only radio station in town! Anyways, we’ve had nothin’ short of a BLAST playin’ the tunes for ya’ tonight! How we doin’ so far!?

The question is answered with an almost deafening roar of cheers, gunfire, and smashing bottles!

Yea, think I’ll take that as a ‘YES’!” The MC laughs, ribs rattling from the power behind it! “Anyways, no clue why us numskulls didn’t think it up sooner, but these two lovely ladies here are gonna give you a lil’ ditty yer’ gonna flip yer’ lids over! Hold on to your hats, folks, and give it up for SYBIL and MITZI as they perform… what’s it called again, doll?

“This one’s an old favorite of mine… HEAVEN BY THE DASH LIGHT!” Answers Syb!

“Dedicated, of course, to America’s Sweetheart herself: Stanley Parble! Say hi, ya’ little gremlin, you!”

At Mitzi’s mention, a spotlight shines on your face prompting another massive round of applause and cheers! One guy even throws his eyepatch at you–score!

“Anyways, she dared us to do this, so if we suck then you know who to beat up! Alright, let’s rock!”

Ignoring your angry fist-shaking, Mitzi snaps and points at the DJ like she’s Alvis Priestly or something prompting the song to start!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C11MzbEcHlw

“Dis’ song sounds familiar, somehow…” Ly muses as Syb kicks things off with a catchy tune about a car or something?

Whatever it is, I LIKE it!” Nats chirps as a bartender slides a fresh drink over your way. “When’s OUR turn??

Dude, you’ve got, like, a million other things to do tonight–you’ll SEE, you reply as you take a hearty sip from the mug!

When it dawns on you that this is gonna be a long song, you contemplate what to do next as your dumbass friends sing their hearts out to the movin’ and groovin’ dance floor below!

>TALK TO DENISE MORE!
>CHAT UP LY AND NATS!
>A SURPRISE PAL SHOWS UP TO THE BAR! (WHO? NOT DENISE, SYB, OR MITZ FOR OBVIOUS REASONS)
>YOU ARE WOEFULLY SOBER. DRINK SOMETHING STRONGER!
>JUST LISTEN TO THE DAMN SONG, YOU BAD FRIEND, YOU!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5348831
>>YOU ARE WOEFULLY SOBER. DRINK SOMETHING STRONGER!
>>JUST LISTEN TO THE DAMN SONG, YOU BAD FRIEND, YOU!
>>
>>5348831
>YOU ARE WOEFULLY SOBER. DRINK SOMETHING STRONGER!
>JUST LISTEN TO THE DAMN SONG, YOU BAD FRIEND, YOU!
And when we’re done here we can go see what that shooting competition is about. Make sure we put the others in their place.
>>
>>5348863
>>5348866
>DRINK AND LISTEN, YOU DICK!

Writing the last short update of the night! Should have more SATURDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST!
>>
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Glancing over at your skittish scientist, you find her tapping her foot and jauntily humming along to Syb and Mitzi’s song. Yea, you mutter to no one in particular, you probably oughta’ listen too, hm?

SSSH! I’M TRYING TO LISTEN!

Alright, JEEZ! Downing your beer in one gulp, you put your finished glass in plain view of the bartenders so that they know who to serve next! When a few seconds go by without any service, you begrudgingly turn your attention to your friends onstage. Man, still going, huh?

“It just started! Now ZIP IT!” Hisses Ly impatientLY!

SSSH!

Letting Syb’s sweet lyrics sink in, it takes you a few moments to notice your rubber booted foot tapping along to the rhythm! The lyrics are hokey, that’s for damn sure, something about being kids and breaking into a car by a lake?

Whatever the hell it’s about, the skeletons really seem to dig it… trying to match the fluctuating tempo of the song, the boneheads crowding the dancefloor can’t help but laugh as they flub the steps and stumble all over each other! Boys, girls, and even a couple of animals–all of them seem to be having the time of their unlives, and the more you watch them all the more you feel a strange, almost nostalgic feeling in your heart–like you were the one there breaking into the car at the lake once upon a time…

As if sensing your gaze, both Syb and Mitzi turn your way wearing smiles you can’t quite decipher–ones that persist even when the latter frantically urges Syb to give her an answer–she’s gotta know right NOW!

“Those cats can meow, huh, boss?”

Shaken from your karaoke-induced trance, you whirl around on your crate stool at the sound of the bartender’s voice as if he’d just shook you awake! Yea, uh… yea!

“Dat’s an understatement!”

They’re both so TALENTED! I’m so glad they’re your friends, sis!

Yea, uh… you too.

“Eh? I was askin’ if you were gettin’ thirsty.” The barkeep clarifies with a light chuckle! “Though it sounds like you’re havin’ a ball already!”

Uhh, you’ll TELL him when you’re having a ball, okay? And yea, you could use another drink!

I’ll just h-have another w-water, please!” Shouts Denise over what you assume is the last leg of the song!

“Water for the kid!” Confirms the barkeep! “And you, doll?”

WHADDAYA’ DRINKIN’?
DRINK STATUS: THE FAINTEST BUZZ…
>JUST GIVE ME, LIKE, SIX BEERS!
>SURPRISE ME!
>I’LL HAVE WATER TOO, ACTUALLY!
>SOMETHING HARD AND STRAIGHT! DON’T EVEN THINK OF MAKING A JOKE! (WHISKEY? VODKA? TEQUILA? RUM? SOMETHING ELSE?)
>CAN YOU MAKE A COCKTAIL? (WHICH ONE?)
>EEEH, NEVER MIND!

Q2: WHAT DO ONCE YOU’VE GOT A DRINK?
>STICK AROUND UNTIL YOUR PALS COME BACK!
>TAKE YOUR DRINK SOMEWHERE ELSE!
>ASK DENISE IF SHE WANTS TO COME WITH YOU!
>ASK THE BARKEEP IF THEY’VE SEEN SOMEONE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5348931
>>CAN YOU MAKE A COCKTAIL?
This one:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RnU2s3P8LKE

>TAKE YOUR DRINK SOMEWHERE ELSE!
Shooting!
>>
>>5348931
>SURPRISE ME!
Ask the bonehead to make us a drink that was popular back in his day. Unless he died recently. In which case, make it something else popular.

>TAKE YOUR DRINK SOMEWHERE ELSE!
Shooting, of course.
>ASK THE BARKEEP IF THEY’VE SEEN SOMEONE!
Before we go, ask the barkeep if he’s seen an old, rootin’ and tootin’ old school sheriff lookin fella. Goes by Burton.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>5348937
>MAKE ME THE LOONEY TUNES COCKTAIL! [1]
>ALSO LET'S GO SHOOTIN'!

>>5348977
>SURPRISE ME WITH AN OLDIE! [2]
>GO SHOOTIN'!
>ALSO HAVE YOU SEEN A CROCHETY OLD SHERIFF GUY?

Gonna roll for what drink we do and write the results!
>>
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You give the barkeep a non-committal ‘eeeh’ as Mitzi and Syb’s performance ends with the crowd going WILD! Just uh, you mutter as you watch them bow and descend into the rabid audience, just give me something from when he was alive, y’know? Something classic!

“Heh, lucky fer you I’m a walkin’ encyclopedia of drinks!” Laughs the pompadour’d bartender as he starts snagging several bottles from below the bar. “Dad couldn’t keep the fridge stocked to save his life, but he always managed to stock the liquor cabinet!”

Christ, you asked for a DRINK, not his tragic backstory! Drumming your fingers impatiently on the counter, the sound of guns firing gives you the itch to move on–say Denise, you say as the bartender begins concocting your beverage, you mind telling Mitz and Syb you’re headed to the SHOOTING RANGE?

Sure!” Nods the scientist, sending a light mist of sweat all over you and the bar and no doubt committing several health code violations, “Never f-fear… Pr-Professor Venaas will k-keep them out of tr-trouble! H-heheh…

You doubt it, but you can’t help but admire her enthusiasm! Sending an appreciative nod her way, your eyes light up with childlike excitement as the bartender slides your finished drink over to you!

“And that, kid, is what we like to call a Rum Runner,” He explains with pride as you examine the orange, fruity-lookin’ drink with a pineapple wedge stuck on the rim! “Probably nothin’ special nowadays, but it was the cat’s meow when I was growin’ up! Say, you wanna hear how that went?”

Nope, you reply as you snatch the drink off the counter with a friendly smile, but thanks for the drink! Taking a hearty swig, you can’t help but look at it after with approval–rum, you mutter with a knowing nod, this’ll do!

Rising from your seat with drink in hand, you clink your glass against the one sitting in Denise’s jittery hand before reaching into your pocket and placing one of the PEARLS you got from that mermaid gambling den onto the bar! How’s that for a tip, huh?

Snatching it off the bar, the bartender glances around him before inspecting your gift. “Hot dog, kid! You come back if you need a top-off, dig?”

Will do, you nod as you take another slurp from your glass! Having had your fill of dancing for now, you set off in search of truth, justice, and high-caliber weaponry!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5349425
Despite hosting skeleton guests of music festival proportions, it isn’t hard to locate the SHOOTING RANGE–the sound of gunshots, drunken cheers and exploding glass make for good guides!

Speaking of drunken cheers, you hear a few familiar voices long before you arrive–hiking up the hill with your drink firmly in hand, you find yourself looking at a long, winding row of folding tables with half-assed plank dividers separating each shooting station! Stuffed with loose cartridges, drinks, and weaponry ranging from medieval to modern day, the place strikes you as what an actual shooting range probably looks like, not that you’ve ever been, of course.

You humans sure do enjoy your weapons, don’t you?” Nats observes as you watch a skeleton clad in colonial militiamen garb and a powdered wig eviscerate a hay target with a machine gun while his modern soldier buddies watch with pride. Guess they don’t care about penetration with a cement wall surrounding the whole place. Yea, you frown, taking another deep sip from your glass, got a problem with that, COMMIE?

Not at all! While I’d never wish harm on any of our friends, there’s something entrancing about watching humans kill each other with heavy weaponry… think it’s a demon thing.

“Yea, sure…” Mutters Ly with a hint of worry in his voice. “See anyone familiar yet, cupcake?”

Before you can respond, your answer presents itself in the form of a familiar film student unloading two even more familiar gaudy REVOLVERS into a hay target while roaring like a madman!

Yep, that’s Eddie alright.

Flanked by Art and Tucker, it takes you a moment before you recognize the duster-clad fogie watching disapprovingly from the side! Throwing range safety to the wind, you rush down the hill towards your dumbass friends and launch yourself (drink-included) into Marshal Burton’s side like a freaky raccoon-like torpedo!

POP-POP!

“Aw HELL...”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5349435
Keeping him locked in place with your bearhug, you wave to the others before glancing back up at the old skeleton’s bearded and increasingly-flustered face! You made it!

“I’ll ‘pop-pop’ yer fool head open with a bullet if you call me that again, missy.” He growls, surly as ever. To his credit, though, he DOES sneakily return the hug by wrapping an arm around your shoulders! “So, still alive I see.”

“Not for lack of trying.” Art says with a smile as Tucker switches off with Eddie.

“Hey Stan!” Ed chirps as he sidles up next to Art, “Finally came to join us, huh?”

Yep, you nod, maintaining the hug despite Gramps’ struggling, you just came back from a little dancing with Denise, Mitz, and Syb!

“Oh yea, huh?” Art remarks as he and Eddie exchange looks. “Did uh, did I miss anything?”

Just a dance-off between you, Syb and Mitz, you answer with a toothy grin! Oh and she totally did karaoke just now and he missed it, so he’s probably in the DOG HOUSE now! HAHAHAAH!

“Oh crap, that was her?!” Art sputters as terror spreads in his eyes! “I gotta go, guys!”

“No you don’t, man!” Eddie scoffs as he grabs Art by his fleeing shoulder, “You guys will probably, uh, ‘reconvene’ later, right? Hang out with the GUYS a little longer!”

“Yea, man–we’re all starting to get jealous.” Tucker mutters as his shots go wide. “Man, this just isn’t my thing…”

“Why didn’t you head over to the ARENA, Tuck?” Asks Eddie as he continues to restrain a panicked Art. “You do kung fu and crap, right?”

“Sure,” Tucker shrugs as he hands the revolvers over to Art, “But did you see the competition? No thanks.”

“What, Talbot?” Art scoffs as he settles his nerves by loading the weapons with fresh ammo.

“Nah, Kiki.” Shivers the film student. “... Maybe I’ll head over later.”

“Yea, later!” Eddie nods in a cheerful tone! “We’ve got the whole damn night ahead of us–let’s make the most of it!”

“You can start by making a mess of that target, provided y’all can hit the damn thing more than once…” Grumbles Gramps as he finally prys himself free of your grasp.

“How about you quit talking and start shooting then, ‘Gramps’?” Art taunts, earning a low growl from Pop-Pop!

“Keep that tone up, boy, and I just might!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5349437
Having settled in with your drink and the BOYS, you watch the trio shoot the target for a few more rounds before noticing the small crate of EMPTY BOTTLES underneath the shooting station! What’s all that?

“Bottles.” Tucker confirms as he watches Eddie take a few more shots at the target.

Thanks, dick, you growl, you meant to ask what they’re FOR!

“Shooting!” Art grins as he points to another group of skeletons a few rows down! Chucking one of the bottles into the air, a skeleton wearing a chef’s outfit hoots as his pal wearing bellhop attire reduces it to glass confetti with a shotgun! Neato!

“We’ve gone through a box already, but we wanted to save the second one in case you came around!” Eddie explains as he lays his empty revolver on the table. “We can play if you want!”

“Sure, an’ maybe you can teach these fools a lesson or two in the process.” Gramps adds with a cheeky grin.

“Hey, Stan’s good, but we ain’t bad either!” Art counters with a competitive glint in his eye!

“Besides, she’s still finishing her drink, right?” Tucker asks, prompting you to take another long sip from your glass. You’re almost done, BITCH!

Finishing it off with a triumphant ‘AAAAHhhh’, you think about what you wanna do next!

DRINK STATUS: FINALLY! A BUZZ!
>CATCH UP WITH GRAMPS!
>TALK TO TUCKER!
>ENGAGE WITH EDDIE!
>SPEAK WITH ART!
>BOTTLE-SHOOTING CONTEST!
>JUST SHOOT THE HAY TARGETS A BIT (SCOPED RIFLE? SHOTGUN? REVOLVER? ROCKET LAUNCHER? WRITE-IN?)
>YOU’LL BE RIGHT BACK, ACTUALLY!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5349440
>BOTTLE-SHOOTING CONTEST!
We can chit-chat as we shoot. I wanna see the old man’s reaction when the half-drunk gremlin outshoots him.
>>
>Board is dead
God damn Saturdays, am I right?
>>
>>5349440
>>BOTTLE-SHOOTING CONTEST!
>>
>>5349440
>BOTTLE-SHOOTING CONTEST!
>>
>>5349552
>>5349618
>>5349653
>BOTTLE BATTLE!

Writing!
>>
Letting your tastebuds relish the fleeting sensation of your fruity beverage, you assertively crack your neck and nod to your fellow idiots. You just beat Mitz AND Syb in a dance off–teaching everyone how to shoot oughta’ be a good pilot cleanser!

“Woah… both of ‘em?” Tucker asks, clearly impressed!

“And I missed it…” Groans Eddie as he lightly kicks the side of the shooting stand. “Maaan…”

“Well dancing’s a little different from shooting, Stan, as I’m sure you know.” Art replies with a smug grin forming on his face. No shit, dumbass!

“So that just means you’ve burned a little stamina!”

“Hey… hey, yea!” Eddie says with a smile! “Count me in!”

“Me too.” Smirks Tucker with a shrug. “Can’t promise a challenge, but it’ll be fun, right?”

As the boys get to work setting up the bottles, you turn and send a pleading glance in The Marshal’s direction.

“... nope.”

You add a pout for good measure. P-Pop-Pop?

“Is yer’ head screwed on right? I said nope, you deaf freak! And quit calling me ‘Pop-Pop!”

He asked for it. You pull out the PUPPY DOG EYES!

“Oh SHIT!” Ly exclaims as your Pop-Pop’s grizzled jaw falters a bit, “She’s… she’s DOIN’ IT!

W-what is this p-POWER!?” Stammers Nats as you lean in a little closer! Trembling under your DARK MAGICKS, the crusty old coot finally caves with a defeated roar!

“Damn it all, FINE! But if you so much as sniffle when I teach you a lesson, I’ll be using your sorry carcass as target practice, y’hear?!”

You respond by tackling him into another hug! YAAAAAY~POP-POP’S GONNA PLAAAAAY!

Damn kids… always getting whatever they want…” Grumbles The Marshal as he draws the OLD REVOLVER from his side holster.

“So,” Eddie announces, dropping the box of bottles at your feet like they weren’t fragile whatsoever, “Who do you wanna lose to first, huh Stan?”

“Stop, Stan! STOP!” Ly shrieks as you snatch up a glass bottle from the box, “He was making a JOKE!
He’s gonna be making a pool of BLOOD on the ground if he doesn’t watch it!

“Well this is gonna be fun...” Art observes flippantly.

Damn right it will!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5349739
Pondering Eddie’s STUPID question as you return the bottle to the box, you ultimately decide to START with…

Q1: WANNA MAKE THIS NEEDLESSLY COMPETITIVE?
>YES! LET’S SET SOME STAKES!
>NO! YOU’RE FINE WITH RUBBING YOUR VICTORY IN THEIR FACES!
>WRITE-IN!

Q2: WHO’S UP TO BAT FIRST? YOU’LL BE USING A REVOLVER!
>TUCKER–YOU DON’T BUY THAT MODESTY BULLSHIT! YOU’LL FIGHT HIM FIRST!
>EDDIE–YOU SAW WHAT HE DID IN THE MINES–LET’S SEE HOW HE DOES NOW!
>ART–YOU DEFEATED HIS WOMAN AND YOU’LL RUIN HIM TOO!
>POP-POP–YOU WANNA TEACH AN OLD DOG SOME NEW TRICKS!
>EEH, YOU JERKS FIGURE OUT SOMETHING FIRST! YOU’RE GONNA WATCH AND FIND ANOTHER DRINK!
>ACTUALLY, YOU’LL BE RIGHT BACK!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5349741
Q1:
>NO! YOU’RE FINE WITH RUBBING YOUR VICTORY IN THEIR FACES!
Bragging rights is good enough for me. As if we would skip the chance to be an arrogant bitch.

Q2:
>ART–YOU DEFEATED HIS WOMAN AND YOU’LL RUIN HIM TOO!
>>
>>5349769
+1
>>
>>5349741
>>5349769
+1
>>
Sorry, all, something came up and I'm probably gonna sign off for the rest of the night! Should have more for ya SUNDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST! Apologies again!
>>
>>5349831
Take it easy, boss.
>>
I kind of want to declare war on all of them at once, but Pops by himself is probably pretty tough.
>>
>>5349915
We can totally do that if you'd like to speed things up a little--it'll just be a few more rolls. Still busy for the rest of the night, but I'll add that to the choices:

>TAKE 'EM ALL DOWN ONE BY ONE (WRITE-IN ORDER!)

Otherwise I'll see you all tomorrow, hopefully!
>>
>>5349955
>TAKE 'EM ALL DOWN ONE BY ONE (WRITE-IN ORDER!)
>Tucker
>Eddie
>Art
>Pop-pop

We must work ourselves up to the master.
>>
>>5350007
>>5349955

Support!
>>
>>5350007
changing to this
>>
>>5349741
>>5350007 +1
>>
>>5350007
>>5350016
>>5350052
>>5350097
Order received! Writing! Got some plans later today, so expect sporadic updates!
>>
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Yea… you mutter, that oughta’ do it!

“Do what?” Asks Gam-Gam as you turn to give your challengers a toothy grin!

After much deterioration, you begin after clearing your throat to get everyone’s attention, you’ve determined the order you’ll be beating everyone in!

“So that’s why you were muttering to yourself!” Remarks Eddie with comprehension dawning on his face. “Neat!”

“No, that was just her muttering random numbers to herself and wasting our time.” Art counters, earning a shipment of dirt kicked in his direction! Wrong, dick, you were CALCULATING! Calculating everyone’s strengths and weaknesses!

“Your ‘diagram’,” Art retorts as he points to your notes etched in the ground with a stick, “Is a bunch of scribbles, that ‘S’ everyone drew back in Middle School, and a drawing of some guy with stink lines coming off of his head.”

Yea, you say failing to contain a mischievous giggle, guess whose head that is!

“You ain’t gonna have a head if you don’t get to the damn point!” Growls Pops as he mercilessly stomps all over your calculations! “Who’s goin’ first!?”

Sheesh, SOMEone needs a nap! Poking your finger into the barrel of the gun Gramps has pointed at your face while Eddie and Tucker struggle to disarm him, you relay your DATA-DRIVEN RESULTS to the competitors!

First up is TUCKER!
“Fine with me–I’ll give it a shot!” Tucker shrugs with a grin on his face. Quit it with the fake modesty, asshole!

Second is EDDIE!
“Don’t underestimate me!” Warns Eddie as he attempts to twirl his revolver and subsequently drops it on the ground!

Third is ART!
“Just promise not to cry when you lose, yea?”

Not gonna happen! Fourth, of course, is-
MARSHAL BUR-
POP-POP!
“... You do this on purpose, don’t you?”

Dunno what you’re talking about, you deflect! Anyways, you’ll be shooting TEN BOTTLES! Whoever shoots more is the BEST!

“Wait, you’re not gonna make any dumb wagers?” Asks Art with a hint of genuine concern in his voice. “But you love those!”

You do, you concede, but bragging rights will do you just fine this time, thanks!

“You just can’t think of any good stakes, can ya?” Asks Ly in a wry voice. Sh-shut up!

With the bottles and ammo set up, all that’s left is to shoot!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5350349
Here goes, folks! Four challengers! One winner! Lots of glass bottles!

ROLL ME 4d100+15(+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 RIGHT ARM TEMPORARY BONEUS) TO SMOKE THESE GUYS! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

As per last time, I’LL be rolling for the others! BONEUS breakdown is as follows:

TUCKER: 1d100 (Dude’s pretty average at shootin’. : c)
EDDIE: 1d100+5 (+5 TRYING TO IMPRESS EVERYONE)
ART: 1d100+10 (+5 LOTS OF SHOOTING PRACTICE, +5 REVENGE FOR SYB!)
GRAMPS: 1d100+20 (+10 LOTS AND LOTS OF SHOOTING PRACTICE, +5 GOTTA TEACH THESE YOUNGSTERS BONEUS, +5 ANNOYING GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GRANDCHILD OR WHATEVER BONEUS)

I’ll roll their stuff AFTER you guys roll, so get to it! Good luck and don’t mess up!
>>
Rolled 100, 86, 76, 64 + 15 = 341 (4d100 + 15)

>>5350351
>>
Rolled 59, 44, 82, 19 + 15 = 219 (4d100 + 15)

>>5350366
Geez Stan, you didn't have to humiliate Tucker that hard.
>>
Rolled 97, 86, 19, 33 = 235 (4d100)

>>5350351

My time to shine
>>
>>5350366
>three ones last thread
>two one hundreds this thread
I fucking hope this trend keeps up for the whole thread.
>>
>>5350472

I'm just worried it's going to swing back right as we engage Tim.
>>
Rolled 29, 46, 48, 36 = 159 (4d100)

>>5350366
>>5350371
>>5350440
Well damn, Tucker is DEAD!
Nah really though, nice rolls! So nice, in fact, that let's say that crit DEMORALIZED THE REST! -5 BONEUSES TO EVERYONE (except Stan, of course)

Gonna roll for your opponents now in one 4d100 roll--BONEUSES will be added after.

Tucker: 1d100-5 (-5 DEMORALIZED)
Eddie: 1d100 (-5 DEMORALIZED, +5 TRYING TO IMPRESS)
Art: 1d100+5 (-5 DEMORALIZED, +5 SHOOTING PRACTICE AND +5 SYB REVENGE)
Gramps: 1d100+15(-5 DEMORALIZED, YADA YADA YOU GET IT)

Will write the results after the rolls!
>>
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First up is you and Tucker–his calm, composed expression barely giving you anything to work with as you step up to bat first! Checking to see that both revolvers are loaded, you nod for Art to throw–and politely remind him that you’ll go SICKO MODE on him if he botches a toss!

“Yea, yea, just worry about your aim, doofus…” Art mutters as Tucker watches from behind you.

“Good luck, boss!”

You won’t need it! Aiming your dual revolvers, you lick your lips in anticipation as Art hocks the first bottle into the air!

Trailing it as it arcs through the sky, you have no trouble blasting it into a shower of dark glass! By the time the remains hit the ground, you’ve already moved onto the next one! Then the next! Hitting them like some kind of bottle-shooting machine, you watch with menacing glee as the color slowly drains from your opponent’s faces–the living ones, at least!

Shiiiit...” Tucker mouths as you let one bottle nearly hit the ground before bullseyeing it! With one bottle left, Art really puts his arm into the throw! Sending it skyward, you’re just about to finish with a bang when a menacing ‘SKREEEEEE’ approaches from above!

“STAN!” Ly exclaims as you scan the air for the sound’s origin, “It’s him!

Before you can ask who, the answer presents itself in the form of a familiar leathery-winged mammalian menace–one you thought you taught a lesson back at THE LODGE!

Yes… you know him all too well.

THE BAT!
https://youtu.be/DLJJRJY1Tcs
“Oh crap! It’s A BAT!” Eddie shouts!

We meet again, you hiss as you aim your weapon at the cave-dwelling gate-crasher, for the last time!

As THE BAT dives at you with bared fangs, you meet him halfway with a bullet–one that sends your flapping foe careening into the night with a defeated screech!

Though the bullet didn’t penetrate your nocturnal nemesis, it DID pierce something else! As THE BAT’S limp form tumbles beyond the fort walls, the bottle that just happened to be behind the beast bursts into a cloud of glass that earns a round of cheers from the skeletons around you!

“Holy CRAP!” Tucker sputters as you blow the smoke off the gun’s barrels, “That’s… damn...”

“Th-that was a perfect score!” Art adds as he retrieves ten more bottles from the crate with his shaking hands.

Mhm, you cheerfully reply as you lay the weapons back on the table, no pressure~

Propping himself up with a deep breath, Tucker takes his place at the table while you take over his spot. Watching him prepare, you feel a bony hand lightly pat your shoulder.

“Not a bad start, kid.” Mutters Pops as he struggles to avert his gaze. “Not bad at all…”

HA! Softie!” Snorts Nats!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5350721
Still rattled from your earlier performance, Tucker quietly loads his weapons with fresh cartridges before motioning for Art to proceed. Despite the cool expression on his face, the film student’s performance is nowhere near as spicy as yours! Though his first three shots hit their marks, the rest of them go wide, and without another surprise appearance by THE BAT, Tucker’s turn ends with a whimper.

“See, that’s why Keek’s the one with the camera:” Eddie remarks as Tucker returns the guns to the table with a good-natured chuckle. “Because you, my friend, can’t shoot.”

“Screw you, man…” Tucker smirks as he gives his roommate a light punch in the shoulder, “I said it before–I’m more of an ‘up close and personal’ guy!”

“You really oughta’ try being a ‘shoot the bottle’ guy, then.” Art quips, earning a flipped bird from your opponent.

“Yea, yea… What can I say? It was a tough act to follow.” Tucker shrugs as he turns your way and smiles. “I know when I’m beat. You kicked ass, Stan.”

Damn right you did, you reply with pride! What’s he mean by ‘up close’, though?

“Didn’t I mention?” He asks with a confused expression as Eddie sets up at the table. “I did a lot of martial arts stuff before college–a few tournaments, too.”

Huh, you blink in surprise, why didn’t he tell you? Your bro was all about that stuff too! Still is!

“Did I not? Musta’ slipped through the cracks…” Tucker shrugs as Eddie reloads the guns. “I knew your last name was familiar–I competed with Sue a few times back in High School–dude’s a machine.”

He can say that again! So wait, you continue, how well does he know Su-

“Alright, guys, time for the MAIN EVENT!” Announces Eddie as he poses with his revolvers! “Quiet on set!”

“Right… you’re gonna need all the concentration you can get!” Jokes Tucker, prompting his roommate to kick a cloud of dirt in his and your direction! Hey, watch it!

“Taste that dust, guys? Get used to the flavor, cuz’ you’re gonna be eating it in a sec!” Boasts Eddie as he motions for Art to throw!

“He’s been spending too much time with Talbot, huh?” Tucker remarks as you, him, and Gramps watch from afar. Yea, seriously!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5350724
“So Ed, got any recommendations on what dust I should try?”

“Screw you, man...”

Planting the revolvers back on the table with a defeated sigh, Eddie switches places with Art in an attempt to evade his roommate’s barbed tongue!

“Because I remember you mentioning something about eating it? And I figured you’d be the person to ask-”

“Whatever, Tuck–I shot way more than you did!” Eddie counters as he hastily removes ten bottles from the crate!

“Does four bottles count as ‘way more?’ What do you think, guys? Stan?”

“I’d be generous if I said yea…” Art smirks as he loads up the guns once more. “Really generous.”

“In my experience, if you miss a shot you ain’t gonna live long enough ta’ fuss over it.” Grunts Pops as he pokes a bony finger through one of the bullet holes in his weathered hat. “Count yerself lucky them bottles there don’t fire back, pard.”

Yea, you add, he didn’t even shoot a BAT, so…

“Alright, alright, I get it… sheesh, you guys are brutal…” Eddie groans! “Just wait til’ next time, tho-”

“You ready with those bottles, Ed? I’m feelin’ lucky!” Interrupts Art as he takes up a firing position! Abandoning his train of thought, the film student takes a bottle in each hand and nods.

“Cool. Watch and learn!”

To his credit, Art provides the best performance yet… after yours, of course. Sending several bottles to their untimely demise, the Rent-A-Cop falters in the middle when he misses a particularly spinny bottle, and with that one miss came several more!

“No sweat, Artie–seven’s my lucky number!” Eddie jokes as Art blows the last bottle into pieces!

“It’s everyone’s lucky number, you dork.” Art counters as he takes a moment to observe his handiwork. “Good thing Syb wasn’t watching, huh?”

“I don’t think it’d matter much, to be honest.” Tucker remarks, earning a glare from the security goon. “Easy, tiger!”

“If y’all are done playin’ cowboy, y’mind shuttin’ yer’ traps so I can show ya’ how it’s done?”

Striding confidently over to the shooting stand, Gramps gives his worn revolver a quick twirl before spitting on the ground next to him.

“This should be good, huh?” Art observes as he takes a spot next to you.

It’ll be interesting, you correct. Whether it’ll be good or not is up in the air!

“Speakin’ of ‘up in the air’, get to chuckin’, boy.” Commands Pop-Pop as he nods to Eddie.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5350728
If the last few performances were appetizers, then Gramp’s shooting is the main course! While you and the others sought to shoot the bottles at the apex of their flight, The Marshal takes a more theatrical approach–sniping bottles inches above the ground, firing from the hip, the man’s a showboater through and through, and he makes no effort to conceal it!

He’s good…” Nats observes as Pops turns around and shoots a bottle falling behind him, “Really good!

“Glad we got him on our side…” Ly adds as the rest of your pals watch in awe. “He’d still be soakin’ up da’ booze on dat’ saloon table if we hadn’t convinced him ta’ tag along…”

Blasting away his ninth bottle, a faint smirk forms on the old skeleton’s face as he moves to shoot his tenth! Watching him trace the final bottle’s flight with his gun like a painter with a brush, it takes you a moment to realize your fists are clenched at your sides.

Uh-oh.

Closing your eyes as The Marshal squeezes the trigger, you bite your lip in anticipation as one final shot rings out above the rest of the gunfire around you…

But fails to produce any shattering glass.

DAMN IT ALL!

Opening your eyes, you watch with growing excitement as Gramps stomps his boot on the ground before angrily walking away from the table! Holy crap, you mutter to yourself, did… did you win?

“Damned cityslickers–can’t hear myself think with all this darn racket around here!” Growls the skeleton as he stuffs his revolver back into its holster! “No wonder yer’ actin’ so darn foolish all the time–never used a head in yer’ life!”

Before you can fully register what happened, your team of loyal idiots traps you in a series of high-fives starting with Eddie!

“Holy crap, Stan–that lich ain’t gonna know what hit ‘em!” He laughs before giving you a light pat on the shoulder!

“Not gonna lie, that was a nailbiter!” Tucker adds after getting his high-five in, “Remind me never to piss you off, yea?”

“Don’t know what I expected…” Art shrugs with a wry grin on his stubbled face. “I owe you a drink, Stan.”

He does, you nod glowing with pride, but you’ve got one more question before he grabs it for ya! Sidling up next to a still-simmering Pop-Pop, you lean your cheek into his side and smile up at his face–well?

“... well what?” He hisses, avoiding your gaze.

Well, you repeat as you lean in closer, how’d you do?

“Ya’ did fine, alright? Glad ta’ see something good got passed down the family tree… despite all odds, might I add!”

Yea, yea, you giggle, you love him too!

“Never said that, idiot.”

Never denied it either!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5350731
“Dunno about you guys,” Eddie sighs as Tucker returns the crate of bottles back to its place under the table, “but I’m all competitioned out…”

“Same.” Tucker nods as he glances towards the center of the Drive-In, “I think I’ll stick to watching for a while… and maybe being the drink runner.”

“It’s cool! I can go grab ‘em!” Interrupts Art as he takes a few steps towards where the concession stand, well, stands. “Just, uh, just tell me what you guys want.”

“You sure? I don’t mind.” Tucker replies.

“Well someone’s gotta do it or we’ll be sober all night!” Eddie exclaims with growing irritation in his voice! “Stan, you won–who’s gonna be Drink Bitch?”

You respond with a frown–how the hell is that a prize?

“It isn’t–I just wanna drink! Preferably tonight.” Replies the film student with a shrug!

Fair enough.

Q1. WHO SHOULD GET THE DRINKS!? CHOOSE 1 OR MORE!
>ART!
>GRAMPS!
>TUCKER!
>STAN!
>EDDIE!

Q2. WHADDAYA WANNA DO NEXT?
>CHAT WITH ART!
>TALK TO TUCKER!
>ENGAGE WITH EDDIE!
>GRUMBLE WITH GRAMPS!
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE!
>CHALLENGE SOME OTHER BONEHEADS TO A SHOOTOUT! HEY YOU!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5350732
>ART!
>TUCKER!
>EDDIE!

>GRUMBLE WITH GRAMPS!
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE!
ARENA
>>
>>5350732
>>5350741
+1
>>
>>5350741
Just to clarify, do you mean you wanna send the other goofballs to grab drinks and take Gramps to the ARENA whilst talking to him, or did you wanna talk to him FIRST and then head to the ARENA? Because both are very 'Stan' things to do and I approve.
>>
>>5350748
Talk to him FIRST and then head to the ARENA.
>>
>>5350753
I'll support this
>>
>>5350787
>>5350753
>>5350748
>>5350746
>>5350741
Dat's right! Winners talk! Losers walk!
Plus somebody has to stay behind to tell everyone where we went.
>>
>>5350741
This.
>>
Sorry, all--just got back from plans and I'm dog tired--will update MONDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST! I'll probably take the current vote unless I see a huge upset tomorrow, so expect some chatting with Gramps!

While we wait, I've got one more question to ask:

WHAT DRINK TO YOU ASK THE GUYS TO GRAB YOU?
>BEEEEEER!
>SOMETHING STRAIGHT AND HARD. YEP, MADE THE JOKE ALREADY!
>A COCKTAIL! (WHICH ONE?)
>NOTHING--YOU'RE GONNA MOVE ON IN A BIT!
>SURPRISE ME! (WARNING--YOU'RE CURRENTLY SENDING ART, EDDIE, AND TUCKER. THEY WILL PROBABLY PRANK THE HELL OUTTA YOU.)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5351263
>>SURPRISE ME! (WARNING--YOU'RE CURRENTLY SENDING ART, EDDIE, AND TUCKER. THEY WILL PROBABLY PRANK THE HELL OUTTA YOU.)

I feel daring.
>>
>>5351263
>SURPRISE ME! (WARNING--YOU'RE CURRENTLY SENDING ART, EDDIE, AND TUCKER. THEY WILL PROBABLY PRANK THE HELL OUTTA YOU.)
>>
>>5351263
>SURPRISE ME! (WARNING--YOU'RE CURRENTLY SENDING ART, EDDIE, AND TUCKER. THEY WILL PROBABLY PRANK THE HELL OUTTA YOU.)

Don’t worry. They’ll regret it.
>>
>>5351263
>>5351267
>>5351360
>>5351394
+1
>>
>>5351267
>>5351360
>>5351394
>SURPRISE ME!

So be it. Writing!
>>
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If he wants to drink so much, you reply with growing irritation in your tone, here’s a neat idea: how about he, Tucker, AND Art go grab some drinks, hm?

“Sure, but then you’ll just be hanging out with gramps h-oooh, gotcha.”

“Anything you want in particular?” Tucker asks when neither he nor Art voice any concerns with your idea. You respond with a shrug–surprise me!

“One surprise comin’ up.” Says Art as a faint smile forms on his stubbled face. And before he and the rest of them try any BULLSHIT, you add, know that they’ll ALL be punished–guilty until proven innocent!

“Don’t worry, Stan–I’ll keep an eye on these rascals!” Eddie replies with a reassuring smile! “You want a drink, Po-err, Marshal?

“Whiskey, neat. Hell, bring the bottle.” The skeleton grunts as he takes a seat in a nearby folding chair. “These city folk still know how to make whiskey, don’t they?”

“Hell yea they do.” Tucker nods, placating the grumpy old man. “Don’t go anywhere, then–we’ll be back in a jiff!”

As the guys depart, you join the lawman and sit in another conveniently-placed folding chair across from him. So, you begin, is he having a swell time?

“Ehh, they’re nice enough folk.” Shrugs pops as he unslings his rifle and lays it across his lap. “Mayor fit right in–started slingin’ drinks and chattin’ up the locals the minute we blew in. You’d figure he owned the dern’ place with how he’s gettin’ on.” He adds, gesturing to the gaudy lights coming from the concession stand. “That human feller Pete came as well–the one y’all rescued when ya’ first rode inta’ JOPLIN?

Yea, you nod, that guy.

“He had dat’ van an’ ran da’ VISITOR’S CENTER, Stan.” Ly reminds you in a hushed tone. Oh yea, THAT guy! Where’d he run off to?

“Couldn’t tell ya.” Gramps grunts as he idly inspects his rifle. “Some wild-haired bonehead asked him about a ‘helly-copter’ or somesuch… Reckon they wanted him ta’ take a look at it.”

Good to know, you mutter as you file that tidbit of intel into one of your dusty mental filing cabinets. What about the others, though? Did he come in on a horse? Where’s Sodapop?

“You really are touched, ain’tcha?” He replies in an incredulous tone! “Horses have been here the whole damn time–look!”

Following his outstretched finger, you finally notice the group of horse skeletons drinking like fish and going to town on a hay target with enough automatic weapons to take over a small country–even Pop’s horse Harry has a cigar hanging limp from his mouth!

“Now dat’s what I call horseplay!” Ly remarks, causing Nats to explode into a giggle-fit! Keep it down in there!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5351677
“Yep,” Gramps sighs, “Everyone’s livin’ it up…”

Alright, you continue as you lean forward a bit in your chair, but you didn’t ask if his PALS were having fun–you asked HIM! Senile old man!

“Call me that again and I’ll cuff yer’ darn ears, ya’ damned varmit!”

Still didn’t answer your question!

“You really are a punishment for my past misdeeds, ain’cha? Some kind of devil in disguise?”

Eheheh, he can say that again!

Be cool, Nats–he might actually shoot if he thinks you’re actual hellspawn!

“What was that?” Asks the lawman with growing suspicion in his glowing eyes!

N-nothing, you stammer! How’s he doing?

The old skeleton answers you with a drawn-out sigh as he wordlessly holds out his REPEATER RIFLE for you to take-its wood stock weathered and pitted from countless battles, but its pewter metal parts still polished as if it were put together yesterday. Taken off-guard by the gesture, you leave him hanging as you raise an eyebrow in his direction. What… what is this?

“A gun, dumbass!” Replies Pops with renewed grumpiness! “Ya’ shoot things with it! Reckon I’ll demonstrate by putting a bullet in your skull–that way you’ll finally have something in there!”

Ha ha, gramps, you retort, very funny. Seriously though, you repeat with growing confusion, what’s he doing here?

“Cripes, is everything a dang puzzle with you?” He groans as he shoves the weapon in your direction again! “I want you to have it, alright? Damned ungrateful kids…”

You get that, you answer, but why? He’s gonna need it!

“A gun’s a gun, alright?” He groans as he uses one of his hands to massage his bony temples. “Don’t matter who it belongs to. Sure, this one’s got its share of stories, but those are born from the owner… and I reckon it’s time to pass it along. An’ if I’m able to hand it off to kin, well…” He pauses mid-sentence before shoving the rifle in your face again. “Just try not ta’ blow your damn foot off, y’hear?”

How do you respond here?
>TAKE IT GRACIOUSLY!
>REFUSE–YOU CAN’T ACCEPT THIS!
>INVESTIGATE–WHY’S HE ACTING SO GENEROUS?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5351678
>TAKE IT GRACIOUSLY!
Damn. I don't know what to say.
>>
>>5351678
>>TAKE IT GRACIOUSLY!
>>
>>5351678
>TAKE IT GRACIOUSLY!
>>
>>5351745
>>5351761
>>5351763
>TAKE THE DAMN THING!

Writing!
>>
>>5351678
That thing would be worth a respectable sum.
>>
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It takes you a while to accept the gift from the old man–not because you don’t want it, of course–more like you can’t believe it.

Damn, you stammer as you wrap your gloved hands around the rough wooden butt and forestock, you uh… you don’t know what to say… as you bring the weapon closer for a more thorough examination, you barely glimpse a brief hint of pride on the lawman’s face out of the corner of your eye.

“No need to say nothin’, Stan…” He grunts as you peer down the sights and smile with satisfaction. “Figure it’ll be put to good use by you. Us dead men don’t have much need fer’ fancy heirlooms.”

Fancy is right–despite its rugged exterior, a closer examination of the barrel and the gun’s mechanical components reveals that it’s been immaculately-kept–so much so that in your limited knowledge of firearms you’d almost suspect this thing was good as new!

“Just don’t go paintin’ butterflies or daffodils on that thing–if I find out you ain’t treatin’ her well I’ll come runnin’ and jam the ole’ thing down yer’ idjit’ throat.”

You answer his threat with a look of disbelief. Do you look like the kind of gal that would put butterflies on this thing?

“HAH! Got me there!” Laughs the lawman in a rare display of emotion besides grumpiness. “Couldn’t say what kinda girl you are, part from one who knows her way around a rifle!” His soft chuckle trails off into the evening breeze as the two of you sit there for a while in silence. After all, ‘no need to say nothin’, he said…

Gosh,” Nats remarks in an awestruck tone, “That’s… that’s one hell of a gift, Stan…

“What she said!” Ly adds, earning a weak nod from you. “What’s-oh boy…”

Sensing something amiss, the old man glances your way and groans before getting up and dragging his seat over to you. “Ah Hell, don’t get all misty-eyed over a dern’ gift, you damn fool… Com’mere now.”

You’re not misty-eyed, you protest as you blink the itchiness away from your eyes, it’s just friggin’ HAY FEVER an-

Before you can finish your explanation, the skeleton takes a seat and brings you into a side hug. Resting your cheek against his duster’s leather shoulder, you find yourself in one of those rare situations where you’re at a loss for words.

“Whatever happens tomorrow, lil’ missy,” Continues Gramps in a low, growling tone, “just promise an’ old man that you’ll keep moving forward, ya’ hear?” He pauses to give your shoulder a gentle shake. “Don’t dwell on the past, what you miss, or what you lose–learn from it and keep goin’.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5351836
Nodding quietly at his sudden words of wisdom, you receive a pat on the shoulder for your troubles. “Atta’ girl. You’re a Parble, damn it–that means you’re a fighter. Don’t let anyone or anything tell ya’ otherwise.”

Resting against his shoulder for a few more moments, you eventually work up the gumption to gently break free of the embrace. Seeing you’ve recovered, the old lawman noisily clears his throat as he hastily gets up and drags his chair back to its original position. “An’ fer heaven’s sake, go enjoy yerself–you only live once, ya’ hear? Don’t waste the whole damn thing talking to an old man…”

Yea, yea, you mutter, wiping the remaining HAY FEVER from the corners of your eyes, there he goes acting all wise again...

“The HELL you mean, ‘actin’??” He roars with renewed grumpiness! “Compared to you I’m a goddamned PROFESSOR! They’ve got pondscum smarter n’ you–serves me right fer’ tryin’ ta’ be charitable!”

Did they even have charity back in his time, you ask as a mischievous grin forms on your face! What did they even donate? Pretty rocks? Dinosaur bones?

“You mind yer’ dern tone an’ mind it fast, missy–”Snarls the lawman from his folding chair, “or I’ll take that rifle of mine back and give ya’ some wisdom you ain’t gonna be able to refuse!”

Alright, alright, you sigh in a placating tone, you’re sorry, Pop-Pop…

“Damn right you’ll be sorry…” He grumbles as he crosses one leg over the other and spits on the ground, “No respect fer’ elders in this damned town…”

As the conversation lulls back into familiar territory, you contemplate what, if anything, you wanna discuss next… YOU PROBABLY HAVE TIME FOR UP TO 2-3 MORE TOPICS!

INVENTORY PASTEBIN UPDATED!

>DID HE MEET CLIFF AND THE OTHERS YET?
>WHAT’S HIS PLAN FOR TOMORROW?
>HE WAS HANGING WITH THEM FOR A WHILE–ANY THOUGHTS ON THE GUYS?
>JUST WAIT UNTIL THE BOYS COME BACK WITH DRINKS!
>SERIOUSLY THOUGH, WHAT'S EATING HIM?
>HOW’S JOPLIN ANYWAYS?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5351840
>DID HE MEET CLIFF AND THE OTHERS YET?
>HE WAS HANGING WITH THEM FOR A WHILE–ANY THOUGHTS ON THE GUYS?
>SERIOUSLY THOUGH, WHAT'S EATING HIM?
>>
>>5351840
>>DID HE MEET CLIFF AND THE OTHERS YET?
>>HE WAS HANGING WITH THEM FOR A WHILE–ANY THOUGHTS ON THE GUYS?
>>SERIOUSLY THOUGH, WHAT'S EATING HIM?
>>
>>5351852
+1
>>
>>5351852
>>5351863
>>5351864
>MEET CLIFF?
>THE GUYSSSS
>WHAT'S HIS DEAL?

Writing!
>>
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So uh, you continue as the awkwardness starts to settle in, did he meet any of the other boneheads around here? Stripes? Cliff? Andre? Haulie-Paulie?

“Cliff, huh? He the one with the denim jacket and the funny hair?” Asks Gramps as he visibly ponders the names.

“Dat’ don’t really narrow it down, does it?” Asks Ly as you respond with a half-hearted nod. Yea, you say with middling confidence in your voice, sure!

“Yep, I met him.” Concludes The Marshal as he leans back in his chair. “Though I suppose it’s more right to say he met me–we’d barely rode in through that hellishly-large gate outside when he and a few others greeted us at the entrance…” Running his bony fingers through his ashen beard, the skeleton raises an eyebrow your way. “Why?”

He’s your pal, you reply in a matter-of-fact tone! That and he’s been running the show up here for a while now.

“Figured as such… somber feller, ain’t he? The boy certainly seems to carry a burden or two on them shoulders of his.” Muses Gramps. “I don’t much envy his position–carin’ after JOPLIN’ a big enough job as-is.”

Yep, you nod, not envying him either, you hate corralling assholes too!

“Yup, he didn’t seem to care much for it either!” Laughs Pops before leaning closer to you. “Anywho, he seems harmless enough… a little gloomy, though. He mentioned ya’, by the way. Spoke pretty highly of what you’ve done.”

Can you blame him? You ARE pretty incredible!

“Take care of that big head, missy, or it’ll pop off an’ roll away…” Mutters the lawman ina dismissive tone. “Still, it does an’ old man’s heart good ta’ hear talk of his progeny, ‘specially when ya’ only hear good things.”

Did he say anything else? Mention any plans for tomorrow?

“Plan’s simple enough: we do what that kooky magician ordered us to do and strike when the time’s right.” He explains with staggering detail. “Cliff said he’d fill you in later tonight–can’t say much more than that.”

Fine, you pout, but you ain’t happy about it!

“I didn’t come here ta’ make you happy!” Snarls Gramps! “Don’t like it, ask the man himself!”

FINE, you repeat, maybe you WILL! LATER!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5352162
Okay, you segue as you grow more impatient waiting for your drink, if he can’t talk about Cliff then what about THE BOYS? He have anything to say about them?

“Can’t fault ‘em for their enthusiasm.” The Marshal shrugs, clearly itching for a drink as well, “Already saw what Ed an’ that Art feller can do in a scrap–can’t begin ta’ fathom how n’ the Hell they managed to screw up shootin’ bottles so bad.”

They were pretty shitty, weren’t they, you remark, rubbing your chin in thought. You’re betting they were just nervous–you’ve got a bit of a reputation around these parts!

“Seems so, yup.” The Marshal nods. “There’s no denyin’ they think the world of ya–specially that Eddie. Got some spring in his step, that one.”

Yea, you’ve uh… you’ve picked up on that. What about Art and Tucker?

“Artie’s a good one.” The Marshal says with a nod of approval. “Won’t stop blabberin’ about that girl of his, though–kid could do with puttin' her out of his mind fer’ a spell. Love tends ta’ cloud the mind, y’know.”

You don’t know, you think, but whatever! What about the others?

“Not too keen on that ‘big brother’ act Tuck puts on.” Replies the old man. “He’s an easygoin’ sort, but you spend too much time fussin’ over others you’ll forget about yer’ own skills. Kinda reminds me of that friend of yers–the pretty one with the purple hair.”

Syb, right? Yea, she gets a little bossy…

“Folk like them like to be right.” Continues Gramps with a mixture of wariness and sympathy in his voice. “Ta’ be the smart ones… but when they can’t do that or they don’t got the right answers, well…” He makes a collapsing gesture with his hands. “They break down like a house a’ cards.”

So what, you ask with growing interest, should you, like, watch out for them?

“Jus’ remember that everyone’s got his limits.” The skeleton answers in a clear voice. “I seen stablehands charge into battle ‘gainst hardened killers far too many times thanks ta’ misjudged strength, an’ it always ended the same way–care ta’ guess how?”

They uh… they won?

“You got a WORM in yer’ head? No, darn it, they ended up dead!” He exclaims irritably! “I told you about leadership before, damn it–this here’s another lesson! Don’t let stablehands fight killers, ya’ hear?”

You… kinda do? He’s telling you to keep track of everyone’s strengths… even if they think they’re better!

“Well I’ll be…” Remarks the lawman with genuine surprise, “That might be the first smart thing you’ve ever said, missy.”

Bullshit–you’ve said a bunch of smarterer things in the before!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5352165
“Anywho,” The old man concludes with a shrug, “I reckon you’ll figure it out… all the cards’ll be on the table tomorrow whether we like it ‘r not.”

See, there he goes again being all grim and foreboding, you frown, planting your hands on your hips impatiently! What’s his deal, anyways?

“What’cha mean by that, missy?” He retorts defensively!

What’cha mean, you reply, is that he’s acting funny! He gives you his SICK-ASS GUN, gives you, like, two hugs, and he keeps talking about tomorrow like it’s gonna beat him over the head with a sack of doorknobs!

The Marshal raises a grey eyebrow your way. “... and?”

Well, you sputter with growing confusion, why!? He wasn’t concerned when you stormed that mine together–what’s so different about this next fight? What’s got you glum, chum?

Gramps opens his mouth to insult you again, but pauses when a somber expression darkens his face.

“This…” He begins, as if he was about to explain why a goldfish died to a toddler, “This fight will be different, Stan. Much different.”

But how, you persist! How is it different? You’re still fighting skelet-

“You’re not fighting ‘skeletons’, damn it!” He roars, nearly lunging out of his chair, “You’re fighting something that can take a man’s life just by staring at him! That can raise the dead as easy as you or I put a hat on!” Something in your eyes causes the old man to cool down a bit, and with an apologetic sigh, he slowly, but wearily collapses back into his chair.

“Just… he ain’t no bandit, kid… and you’d have to be a damned fool to treat him like one.”

Watching the crotchety old skeleton drum his chair’s armrests with shaky fingers, the final piece of the puzzle falls into place in your mind.

You’re… you’re scared, aren’t you?

“I am.” The Marshal nods in a hushed tone. “Not of death, mind, already been through it before.”

Yea, you mutter, you came close too…

“No, I don’t fear going back there–especially knowing my wife an’ boy lived on.” He continues, “But knowing that there are things out there… things that can snatch a man’s soul and make it dance on strings…” The skeleton stares into your eyes. “There ain’t nothin’ more wrong in this world than that.”

Taking a steadying breath, The weary lawman continues to bore holes in your face with his glowing red eyes. “So whatever happens tomorrow, Stanley Parble, you put that sick sonnovabitch in the ground, you hear? And you salt the land where you buried him.”

Oh you will, you nod, you will!

“And you take damn good care of yourself an’ yer own,” He concludes, not taking his eyes off you, “Don’t underestimate him.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5352169
WEE-WOO-WEE-WOO!
THIS IS THE DRINK POLICE! WE’RE EN ROUTE TO THE SCENE NOW!

Charging through the tense atmosphere like a bull through a pane of glass come your dumbass friends hooting and hollering like madmen with a cornucopia of drinks in each hand! Miming a patrol car screeching to a halt in front of you and Gramps, Eddie triumphantly holds out two very different drinks–a dark bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass filled to the brim with an impeccably GREEN drink in the other garnished with a lemon wedge and a cocktail cherry!

KKCSH! OFFICERS BERRY, HODGKINS, AND VALENTI ON THE SCENE!” He announces as he points the drinks at you like a pair of pistols!

LAY DOWN YOUR BULLSHIT AND PREPARE TO DRINK!” Art declares, barely stifling his laughter!

“Uh… YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN DRUNK!” Tucker adds in a tone that’s nowhere near as goofy or slurred as the other two. “Yea, they might’ve had a shot or two.”

Crossing over to Gramps with his bottle of booze, Eddie shoves the whiskey into the skeleton’s chest with a thumbs up! Before Pops can say anything inflammatory, the film student is already in front of you holding out your drink like a waiter at a fancy restaurant!

“And for zee mademoiselle…” He begins before turning to give Art an impatient nod,

“Zee uh… zee TOKYO TEA!``announces the Rent-A-Cop as he pumps his fist and, by extension, his identical drink into the air triumphantly! “You’re gonna LOVE it, Stan! LOVE it!”

Okay, you stammer, still recovering from the mood whiplash as you take the drink from Eddie’s hand very gingerly, what is it anyways?

“It’s booze, duh!” Art answers in a matter-of-fact tone! “Err, it’s a spin-off of a LONG ISLAND ICED TEA! It’s good!” He adds when it looks like you’re about to slug him.

“Must be if you two clowns are already pickled!” Remarks Gramps as he takes a long swig from his bottle! “Christ Almighty…”

“Hey, we’re not that drunk, honest!” Eddie counters with sudden seriousness in his voice!

“Yea, just a little tipsy!” Art nods as he glances to Tucker for aid!

“Don’t worry, Stan–I kept a close eye on ‘em.” Reports the film student as he slaps both guys on the back. “No one’s gonna be hungover tomorrow if I can help it.”

“Never fear,” Art adds as he takes a cautious sip of his own tea, “I made a vow to Syb not to go overboard tonight!”

“More like she threatened you into agreeing!” Eddie snickers, mimicking a cracking whip before getting an elbow to the stomach! “OW!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5352172
“Tomato, tomato, right? The drinks are here, so who cares?” Art shrugs as he pulls up a chair!

“You’re welcome, by the way!” Eddie adds with a wink, still recovering from Art’s attack! “How is it, Stan?”

Pretty damn good, you remark as you take the first, fruity sip!

“An’ dangerous, too!” Ly warns as you take a longer, deeper swig! “Can barely taste da’ booze in dat’ thing!”

That’s the point, though, right? Keep this stuff coming, Stan–even I’M starting to taste some of it!” Nats counters with a mischievous giggle! Well if she insists…

Taking another big sip, you let out an exultant sigh as your worries slowly drift away! That’s the stuff!

“Oh shit, Stan–did Gramps lend you his gun?!” Exclaims Eddie as he notices the rifle still laid across your lap! “Hey, we should shoot some more bottles with it!”

“Hey, yea!” Art adds with growing excitement in his voice! “You wanna, Stan?”

“That thing ain’t a damn toy, ya’ know!” Growls Pop-Pop from his folding chair! “But if you’d like ta’ give it a try, well…”

As much as you’d like to, you reply, rising from your chair, you were gonna make a few more rounds while you’re still somewhat sober!

“Not a bad idea, actually…” Gramps mutters as he gets up from his seat as well, “Might stretch my legs a bit while I still can.”

“Come on, really?” Eddie protests with a pleading look on his face, “Where are ya’ planning on running off to anyways?”

“Gee, I wonder…” Art remarks with a smug grin on his face. Watch it, buster!

“Where?” Asks Eddie with growing confusion!

“Dunno, actually! Where were you planning on going, Stan?” Continues the Rent-A-Cop with rapidly-increasing SMUGNESS!

This bitch right here! How do you respond?

>LIE! DON’T TELL THEM YOU’RE GOING TO THE ARENA!
>JUST LEAVE! YOU’RE THE BOSS, DAMN IT!
>CONVINCE! YOU JUST WANT TO CHECK IN WITH KIKI, TALBOT, AND SOME OF THE SKELETONS!
>KILL ART! WAIT… SYB WILL BE ANNOYED. JUST UH… JUST MESS WITH HIM AND GO!
>DISTRACT! LOOK BEHIND YOU!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
Got some plans until later, so can't promise another update until TUESDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST! Might get something in before that, but we'll have to see! Hope to see you next time!

One more thing since I forgot to add it: here's another option to choose from!

>CHILL FOR A BIT! YOU CAN SHOOT A FEW MORE BOTTLES, YOU GUESS!
>>
>>5352174
>WRITE-IN!
Going to see the arena fights, since we already got to see Mitzi and SYB sing.
>>
>>5352172

I'm not terrified of a green drink. I'm not. Honestly.

Oh god oh god oh god.
>>
>>5352350
+1
>>
>>5352362
That was literally my first thought. If I were Stan, I’d have PTSD screeched and chucked the drink as hard as I could have. I’m worried about how we’ll deal with those fuckers this close to the end. We don’t have time to seek out counter-measures.

But I don’t know if we IC even remember dealing with them. Bones wrote it up as though we don’t even remember who they are.
>>
>>5352362
>>5352382
Remember who? : )
They remember.
>>
>>5352434
Alright, so we don’t remember. At least now I know.
>>
>>5352174
>>5352350

+1
>>
>>5352350
>>5352364
>>5352693
>YOU WANNA SEE THE FIIIIGHTS!
Writing!

>>5352483
Remember what?
>>
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Typical evil Art–won’t even let you go beat the snot outta’ people because APPARENTLY going anywhere that Talbot and Kiki might be is a CRIME now! Standing firm with your hands on your hips, you explain to your merry gang of ‘Doubting Thomases’ that you just wanna go see the damn FIGHTS!

“Yea, bu-”

I mean, you continue, deftly interrupting the vicious ART BITCH, you already saw Mitz and Syb sing an eight minute song–you need a pallid clencher, damn it!

“Oh yea…” Eddie muses as you finish your explanation, “Weren’t you gonna go track her down, Artie?”

The ginger’s eyes go wide in realization as Eddie’s words sink in! “Oh crap, you’re right! Later, guys!”

Rushing off amidst a chorus of cracking whip impersonations, the Rent-A-Cop leaves you all by hastily raising a middle finger over his shoulder! Man, you remark as you and your pals watch him disappear into the crowd of skeletons, what a sad, defeated little man…

“It is kinda pathetic, isn’t it?” Tucker remarks as Eddie adds a low ‘mhm’ in assent.

“Tch… women...” Spits Gramps with disdain. Tell me about it!

“So uh… we movin’?” Your skeleton asks impatientLY. “I wanna see some punchin’!”

ME TOO!” Exclaims Nats with renewed eagerness in her disembodied voice! “BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOOOD!

Alright, chill, you’re working on it! Turning towards your remaining pals, you inform them that you’re, as they say, ‘headin’ out’.

“Same. Maybe we’ll run into ya’ at the arena.” Tucker replies as he and Eddie share a contemplative glance. Sure, you shrug, and maybe you’ll run into them too!

Before they can respond any further, you give your great, great, great, great, great, great, great, gr-

“He’s not DAT’ old, cupcake.”

Whatever! You tackle Pops into another hug as you safely store his rifle into your coverall pockets! Stay outta’ trouble, Pop-Pop!

“You too, sweetheart…” He mutters as he gives your back a few warm pats. “Take care out there.”

Replying with a manic giggle, you take another swig from your GREEN DRINK before scurrying off in search of more mischief! The night is young, bitches!

>CONTD.
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>>5352793
Like the shooting range you just departed from, the ARENA isn’t entirely difficult to locate even with the constant background noise consisting of cheers, weapon discharge, and rattling bones.

Following your FEMININE INTUITION leads you to a lit-up ring smack dab in the parking lot where a massive crowd makes it near impossible for someone as vertically-challenged as you to see what’s happening!

“Huh.” Ly remarks as you hop a few times to get a peek at the ring, “They really oughta’ have a few more of these ta’ space things out, huh?”

Yea, you pout as you take a break from hopping, say, maybe you could, like, crowd-surf over to the center?

“I mean… we could try...” Replies the skeleton’s disembodied voice, “Oooor we could just climb dat’ lamppost and take a look.”

Letting Ly crane your neck in the direction of the target, you respond with a nod–yea… you’ll probably get groped a lot less if you do that, huh?

Clambering up the post like a raccoon on a mission, you try your best to ignore the frigid evening breeze as you take a seat atop the lamp and observe what’s happening in the ring!

From what you can tell, two SKELANIMALS circle each other in the ring–both with catlike torsos and bird skulls–maybe chickens?

“Ah,” Ly observes as you idly rub your bare arms to keep warm, “Must be a cockfight, huh?”

Not what I expected…” Nats mutters with disappointment in her voice.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5352795
Squinting a bit to get a better view, you can just barely make out the overly-ostentatious blue officer’s coat of a familiar skeleton–one who sicced a pair of mutant sea critters on you for shits n’ giggles once upon a time. Twirling his mustache as he watches the fight, he turns to the bearded buccaneer next to him and exchanges a few hushed words–it’s only after the latter elbows the former in the ribs that you realize he’s talking to ANDRE!

“Not gonna lie–totally expected dat’ guy ta’ be dead by now.” Mutters Ly as you continue to scan the crowd. Lucky for you, skin’s at a premium in this joint, so it doesn’t take you long to spot KIKI’S tiny, but fearsome form trying to communicate with a bonehead wearing a green, sparkly coat and holding a microphone.

“Probably tryin’ ta’ set up a match, huh?” Guesses Ly.

Before you can answer, you spot another familiar face in the crowd–one wearing a familiar RED BOWTIE and a grubby tracksuit!

Wait a minute, you hiss to yourself, who the hell is he talking to!?

Looks like a couple of GREASER GALS!” Reports Nats as you come to the same conclusion seconds later! “Pretty impressive that they can look so good in those leather pants with no flesh, huh?

You don’t bother answering. Surrounding the redhead like curly-haired vultures, the greaser gals giggle and twirl their luscious locks with their bony fingers as Talbot hits them with what you assume are jokes!

Nice to see everyone mingling and getting along so well!” Nats says with a contented sigh. “I keep forgetting all of these skeletons were once real people!

“Hey, we’re still real… kinda!” Ly counters with a hint of resentment in his voice! “We gonna stay perched up here all night, Stan?”

Since when are there girl skeletons?

“Stan!”

Whuh?! Oh, Ly, you sputter as you’re dragged back into reality, yea, what?

“What. Are. We. Doing. Next?”

Easy, Eager Beaver–you’re getting to it! What do?
DRINK STATUS: DEFINITELY BUZZED!
>WATCH THE REST OF THE, heh, COCKFIGHT!
>SAY HEY TO ANDRE AND HIS DUMBASS BROTHER!
>SAVE TUCKER FROM THOSE HARPIES, FAST!
>CHECK IN WITH KIKI AND SEE WHAT SHE’S UP TO!
>SEE IF YOU CAN GET A MATCH SET UP WITH THAT FLASHY-COAT GUY!
>ON SECOND THOUGHT, YOU MIGHT WANNA HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE FOR A BIT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5352796
>SAVE TUCKER FROM THOSE HARPIES, FAST!

Did you mean save Talbot from those harpies?

If so, then my vote is
>SAVE TALBOT FROM THOSE HARPIES, FAST!
>>
>>5352820
Aw damn it! Yes, that's what I meant. Tucker's safe, don't worry!

>>5352796
Choice should read
>SAVE TALBOT FROM THOSE HARPIES, FAST!

Sorry--guess the coffee didn't kick in yet!
>>
>>5352796
>SAVE TALBOT FROM THOSE HARPIES, FAST!
>>
>>5352820
>>5352856
>SAVE TUC-ERR, TALBOT! I DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM, YOU HAVE A PROBLEM! WHAT, YOU GONNA TRY TO 'FIX' ME? MAKE ME NORMAL LIKE ALL THE OTHERS? TURN THAT MIRROR AROUND AND TAKE A GOOD, HARD LOOK AT YOURSELF! NO! SHUT UP! I CAN GET HELP WHEN I FEEL LIKE IT! SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUUP!

Writing!
>>
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HARK, you exclaim, pointing dramatically at the arena and nearly tumbling off your perch from the sheer force behind the gesture, look over there, Ly!

“Yea, way ahead of ya’, kid…” He replies in a confused tone. “We basically share da’ same eyesight, remember?”

Then check again, you command in a stern voice! Talbot’s being attacked!

Is… is that what you call that?” Nats asks with genuine curiosity. “I see…

“Looks pretty comfortable ta’ me, cupcake.” Counters your skeleton with the usual ignorance. “Hell, he almost seems ta’ be havin’ fu-”

N-no, he’s in trouble… but not for long! Not waiting to watch what terrible plans unfold, you swiftly formulate a rescue plan and spring into action!

ROLL ME 1d100+15 (+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 DEMON LEGS) TO GET IN THERE AND RESCUE YOUR EX-BODYGUARD FROM CERTAIN PERIL! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

BONEUS AWARDED TO CREATIVE ENTRANCES!
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>5352919

I'm not going to lie, I kind of want to see a nat 1 here, just for laughs.
>>
Rolled 25 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5352919

>>5352927
You call. I answer.
I'm that one-anon... my ID just changed.
>>
>>5352931

Mark my words, we will have another 100 this thread or close to it. The pattern must come to fruition!
>>
Rolled 58 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5352919
>>
>>5352919
We should run in and try to play it off by grabbing his hand and pulling him along, smiling and telling him we’ve been looking all over, we were wondering where he went. Really ham up the fondness performance and trick the skeleton-girls.
>>
>>5352927
>>5352931
>>5352938
>HIGHEST ROLL: 89!

>>5352987
Not that you need it, but thanks to this idea we've got a +5 BONEUS!

Writing!
>>
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Swooping down from your perch like that bat you taught a lesson to not too long ago, you home in on Talbot and his new friends faster than a heat-seeking missile! Pushing and shoving through the sea of arena-goers, you meld with the shadows behind your ex-bodyguard just as he finishes delivering what sounds like some kind of punchline to… something.

“-o she says: ‘Well I never asked ya’ to EAT it!’ HAH!”

Like a dam bursting open, the THREE (you got a solid count mid-scurry) GREASER GALS erupt into raucous laughter–the kind that were you not currently standing next to a frantic skeleton cockfight would probably be pretty loud!

“Oh Talbie, you dog...” Tuts a gal with a red bandana tied in her lavish, black hair!

“He’s a riot, ain’t he, Claudette?” Giggles another with a polka-dot bow in her sandy locks! “Nothing like these other gorillas…”

“Tell us another one, honey!” Pleads the last member of the trio with a blonde mane running all the way down to her leather-clad legs! “Don’t be a drag!”

“Well okay,” Talbot chuckles as you creep into a better position, “but after this I REALLY gotta stop, ok-”

Your hand darts out from the crowd like a freckled viper and clasps around his with machinelike efficiency! Before he even notices what happened, you emerge from behind the big oaf with a toothy grin and a glint in your eye!

THERE you are, Talbie, you croon as you step between him and his audience, I was looking ALL OVER for you!

Your sudden appearance hits the poor guy like a truck. “Bwuh-Stan?”

That’s right, you reply with a wink, the one and only! Pressing your drink against his lips like a mom trying to feed a fussy baby, you shift your gaze between him and the ruthless predators behind you! Look, you add, you even got a cool drink for him to try!

“Woah, neat!” He remarks as he takes the glass and downs the remaining contents like a marathon runner would a glass of water! “Shit, you call this booze? Tastes like friggin’ fruit pu-

“Hey, what’s the big idea, huh?” Asks the gal previously referred to as Claudette with a rapidly-darkening expression.

AHAHAHA, you laugh as you lightly pat your fellow janitor’s broad chest, always with the jokes, this guy!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5353090
Say, you segue, deftly ignoring the greaser’s pointed question by tugging Talbot away from his fan club, what say we get you a REAL drink, uh… b-bright-eyes?

“Now that’s the best idea I’ve heard from you, like, EVER!” He shrugs, confusion giving way to the promise of free stuff, “I’ll take a-”

NoNONO, you interject as the greaser gals lean into a quiet huddle behind you, he’s gotta go with you! Because, uh…

They’re ID’ing!

“Pfft, SERIOUSLY?!” He scoffs, returning to his usual brash self, “Fine, but I gotta be back soon-”

“Talbie here’s got a match comin’ up!” Explains Polka-Dot Bow as she rests her bony elbow on his broad shoulder!

An’ he promised that once he won he’d take us all dancin’!” Adds Claudette as she rests her elbow on his other shoulder! “So take a hike for a bit, sweetheart!”

Wait a sec, you hiss, voice devoid of its previous warmth, you promised you’d take them dancing? ALL OF THEM?

“What!? No I didn’t!” Talbot counters! “They’re lying!”

Oh! Okay, cool!

“Talbie, sweetheart, ya’ just promised us two minutes ago.” Says Blondie as she leans in close with no remaining shoulders to park her elbow on. “Just before the joke, remember?”

They’re NOT LYING?!

“No! I mean… YES! I dunno!” Running his hand through his hair as confusion builds in his expression, Talbot gives you a sheepish look. “I uh… all I’ve had today are a handful of chips, six or seven beers, and a shot of vodka, Stan–m-maybe I did?”

Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable, you mutter under your breath as you shake your head in disbelief.

“Why do you care anyways?” Ly asks, earning a punch to your own ribs! You don’t! You just… Talbot, let’s get you that damn drink!

“Uh… alright…” He stammers, still not totally sure of what’s happening. “But I still gotta fi-”

YOU’LL HANDLE IT! LET’S GO!

>CONTD.
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>>5353092
“Man, nice save back there, Stan!” Talbot remarks as you lead him through the crowd towards what you assume is the direction of the nearest drink stand, “Those skeleton girls were like… I didn’t even know there were skeleton girls!”

Yep, you grunt, leading him onward with a stone-faced expression.

“Didn’t we just fight a witch, tho-”

Shut up, Ly.

“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna show up!” Adds the janitor as you squeeze past a quartet of skeletons in mariachi attire, “I thought you were gonna head to the ARENA first, but Art and Tucker thought you’d hit up the CONCESSION STAND. Ed was betting on the SHOOTING RANGE, but I’ll bet it wasn’t that, right? Huh?”

Nope.

“Seriously though–thanks. I figure if I go into the scrap with a good buzz I’ll be more creative, y’know? And if the poor S.O.B somehow manages to hit me, well, I ain’t gonna feel it-”

Mhm.

Finally registering something different in your tone, Talbot looks your way apprehensively as you spot a group of partygoers crowded around a small booth with colorful bottles on the counter! Jackpot!

“You uh… are you mad? You sound a little mad. Or wait, you on the rag? Cuz’ I can’t see the moon right now, but I’m pretty sure that has to do with where the moon is. Y’know, like werewolves. You feelin’ like a werewolf, Stan? Are periods like werewo-”

Oh my GOD, you groan as you finish dragging him over to the counter, just… just order a drink, man! Obliging you, Talbot still stares at you appraisingly as confusion continues to spread across his face.

“Alright, seriously though–what’s up?”

Nothing! Nothing’s up, you answer as you pantomime pulling a tap to the bartender!

Uh-huh. And I’m the Queen of Spain.” Scoffs Nats. No she ISN’T! Probably!

“So what, you just dragged me over here so we can get a drink together?” He asks with growing suspicion in his tone!

Yep, you nod with renewed chipperness as the barkeep plants two beers in front of you!

“... holding my hand the whole way?”

You betcha, you nod again before attempting to drown the growing redness in your cheeks with beer! Y-you weren’t gonna carry him, h-haha!

Searching your face a little longer, the janitor finally relents and clinks his glass against yours. “Alright, thanks for looking out, Stan.”

Mhm!

“Gee, flawless form, cupcake. Really.”

Shut it, Ly!

>CONTD.
>>
>>5353096
With the tense atmosphere slowly diminishing around you, you finally have Talbi-err, TalBOT safely away from those harpies! Mission Complete!

MISSION COMPLETE: HARPY HAVOC!

But uh… but now what?

>ASK ABOUT HIS FIGHT!
>TELL HIM ALL ABOUT YOUR NIGHT SO FAR!
>SUGGEST YOU BOTH DO, LIKE, A TEAM MATCH, OR SOMETHING!
>CHALLENGE HIM TO A FIGHT AFTER THE ONE HE SIGNED UP FOR!
>ASK HOW KIKI’S DOING!
>GRILL HIM ABOUT THOSE GREASERS! WHAT WAS THAT, HM?
>INQUIRE AS TO HOW HE’S FEELING ABOUT TOMORROW!
>TAKE HIM BACK TO GET READY FOR THE FIGHT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5353120
>ASK ABOUT HIS FIGHT!
Keep the topic off of us and he’ll forget about it. Also, I’m interested in who he’s going to be fighting.
>>
>>5353160
>>ASK ABOUT HIS FIGHT!
>INQUIRE AS TO HOW HE’S FEELING ABOUT TOMORROW!
>>
>>5353160
>>5353207
>ASK ABOUT DA' FIGHT!
>AAAAND ABOUT TOMORROW!

Writing what will probably be the last update tonight! Got some plans later in an hour or so.
>>
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Taking your time sipping your drink, you let out an exultant sigh before raising an eyebrow his way. So, you begin, who’s he up against anyways?

“Wish I knew!” Shrugs the janitor as he takes a hearty swing from his mug and grins! “Think Kiki was asking the organizer guy about that–far as I can tell it’s all random, but, like, not unfair, y’know?” Catching your gaze, Talbot leans in a little closer with a smug look forming on his face. “Why? Ya’ worried about me?”

Yea right, you reply as you take another sip of beer! He should be relieved that it isn’t you!

“Uh-huh, whatever you say, Stan.” He snickers with a condescending nod! “... Wait, you’re not my opponent, right?” The smug expression immediately turns wary! “Is that what you were doing before you pulled me over here?” Glancing fearfully between you and his drink, fear grows in his bulging eyes! “Did… did you DRUG me!? Holy shit, Stan, if you seriously roofied me just to have a small chance at winni-”

Pausing mid-rant, your ex-bodyguard silently yet frantically debates whether to spit the potentially drugged booze onto the ground or continue drinking!

Take it easy, you dumbass, you say with a dismissive sigh, if you were his opponent you wouldn’t need to drug him–he’s weak enough already!

“Yea, you’d better no-HEY!

He’s watched a few rounds already, right? What’s the competition like?

Taking your bait hook, line, and sinker, Talbot’s anger immediately subsides in favor of giving you the scoop! “All over the place. That Andre guy and his brother have gone at it like, eighteen times now–guess they really like beating the crap outta’ each other? Then some cat and mouse skeletons had some beef with each other… Kiki hasn’t gone yet, but I feel like she’s gonna be on soon.”

Scrunching his face up in contemplation, he concludes his spiel with a shrug. “It’s all pretty chill, though–mostly been drunk skeletons bumpin’ into each other. Hell, fight’s basically over once someone hits the ground.”

Andre and his brother, huh? So you CAN arrange matches!

“Guess so.” The janitor grunts as he takes another swig. “So long as you talk to the arranger, probably. I just told him to surprise me–not like any of the gang was around, and I don’t wanna hurt Kiki or whatever.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that last part. So sure of himself, is he?

“Come on, Stan, you’ve seen me in action!” Talbot counters! “I could, like, fall on that girl and she’d be done. It’d be embarrassing.

Welp, you shrug, we’ll just have to see, won’t we?

“Seriously though: it’s not you, right?”

You answer with a vague smile as you take another sip of beer. Who knowwwwws?

“Damn it, if you roofied me I’m gonna kick your ass!

Not if you’re roofied, dumbass!

“SCREW YOU!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5353358
After a few minutes of kicking each other’s shins later, the two of you pause your feud as another round of beers is placed next to you on the counter.

“Man, could you imagine if you could get booze everywhere like at this party?” The janitor muses as the two of you clink the glasses together. “Like you’d just walk along the street and boom: Booze Stand!”

You can imagine it, moron–it’s called a GAS STATION.

“Yea, but they always get pissed off when you sit down and drink it right there…” Talbot retorts with a furrowed brow. He ain’t wrong…

Taking a particularly long swig, the tracksuited terror exhales with glee. “This is nice, huh?”

Yea, you reply with a crooked smile forming on your face, it kinda is, isn’t it? Stretching your back as a long yawn escapes your lips, your grin sinks a bit. Too bad tomorrow has to happen, huh?

“Yea, about that…” Talbot sighs as a more serious expression clouds his face, “You… you mind doing me a favor, Stan?”

Err, you stammer, taken off-guard by his sudden seriousness, depends on what it is…

“Can we uh…” He begins, trailing off into a sigh, “Can we talk about tomorrow and all of that stuff, like… later?”

Uh, Earth to Talbot: tomorrow IS later! Duh-DOI!

“I know, dumbass, I meant later TONIGHT.” He groans. Despite his usual abrasiveness, you can’t help but sense a genuine weariness in his request. Why uh, you mutter, still flatfooted, why not now?

“Lessee… because I’m trying to have a good time?” He replies, counting his reasons off on his fingers. “Because I’ve got a fight in like, half a minute? Because there’s skeletons everywhere? Take your pick, Stan.”

Okay, okay, you huff, simmer down a little, alright? Seeing something in your expression, your ex-bodyguard takes a breath before adopting a softer tone.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I uh… there’s just a lot to say, y’know? About… a lot of stuff.”

And he doesn’t wanna talk about it now, you conclude, or out in the open at a booze stand.

“Don’t pay me no mind, chillun’,” Interrupts a skeleton in a grey Civil War uniform as the bartender deposits a fruity-looking drink with a cocktail umbrella into his outstretched hand, “Mother dearest didn’t raise an eavesdropper, no suh…”

Departing with a jaunty tip of his weathered hat, you and Talbot are left to your own devices when the bartender starts to take orders from the far end of the bar.

>CONTD.
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>>5353359
So, you continue with a quick sigh, when was he thinking of talking, hm?

“I dunno… before we both pass out?” He suggests with a bewildered shrug. “I still wanted to shoot and check a few things out before goin’ to bed, so…”

You’ve got some stuff to do too, you nod. Did he find a place to crash yet?

“Nope, but if you find one I can probably track ya’ down.” He explains with a tinge of embarrassment in his voice. Riiiight, he’s got that whole ‘Stan-Tracker’ thing still built into him, huh?

“Yea…” He sighs, bringing his drink to his lips.

You don’t really have much of a reason to say no, but who knows what’s gonna happen tonight? How do you reply?
>SURE–JUST FIND ME TONIGHT, I GUESS!
>OKAY–YOU WANNA GO LOOK AFTER YOUR FIGHT?
>LET’S JUST MEET UP TOMORROW OR SOMETHING–YOU MIGHT HAVE STUFF GOING ON TONIGHT!
>YOU’LL THINK ABOUT IT!
>COME ON, LET’S JUST TALK NOW! WHO NEEDS PRIVACY?
>WRITE-IN!

That's it for now, all! Sorry for running off--should have more WEDNESDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST unless I feel up to another update later tonight! Thanks for playing and for putting up with the slow pace of this chapter--I promise we'll be back to more actiony crap eventually!
>>
>>5353361
>>SURE–JUST FIND ME TONIGHT, I GUESS!
>>
>>5353361
>SURE–JUST FIND ME TONIGHT, I GUESS!
>>
>>5353361
>SURE–JUST FIND ME TONIGHT, I GUESS!
Watch us sleep in a tree again because there aren’t any trailers left. Although I suppose that is where raccoons usually sleep.
>>
>>5353363
>>5353384
>>5353475
>SURE, FIND ME LATER!

Writing!
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Well you weren’t exactly planning on having an afterparty in whatever hole you end up passing out in tonight and Talbot’s being remarkably polite for once in his short, stupid life, so you don’t have much trouble in giving the guy an answer! Sure, you reply with a reassuring nod, he can find you later!

“Whuh-really?” He asks with a surprised expression, “Uh, alright. Cool.” Okay, you frown, what’s that all about?

“Nothin’, just…” Talbot mutters before downing the rest of his beer, “I expected you to argue more, or something. Y’know, like usual.”

If he wants an argument you’ll give him one, you snarl as you take another swing at his shin with your rubber-booted foot! Hold still, you bas-

Before you can introduce the janitor to the agony of deFEET, an unholy din of drunken cheers ring out from the direction of the arena followed by an unfamiliar voice amplified by a microphone!

SET THE TABLE, FOLKS, CUZ’ THAT CHICKEN’S DONE! What, is that racist? Am I be-I’m on the mic, man, jus-OKAY, MOVING RIGHT ALONG! UP NEXT FOR THE BONE BRAWL AND YOUR ENTERTAINMENT… LET’S CALL ‘TALBURT’ TO THE RIIIIING! SERIOUSLY, GET OVER HERE!

Eyes bulging at the announcer’s… announcement, Talbot glances at you excitedly! “That’s me, Stan! I’m up!”

Uh, rewind the tape, doofus: he said ‘Talbur-oh. Nevermind.

Flagging down the bartender for two more beers, the janitor dramatically sweeps the fresh drinks off the bar and onto the ground the second they’re placed in front of you! HEY!

“NO TIME, Stan! Let’s GO!”

Snatching your hand in his, you trail behind him like a deflated pool toy as he lumbers back towards the ARENA with the grace and speed of a drunk buffalo!

This is fun. I’m having fun tonight!” Nats remarks as you flutter in the chilly evening breeze like a forgotten kite!

>CONTD.
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>>5353848
“So!” Talbot pants as the two of you draw closer to the ARENA, “Whatcha’ gonna give me when I win my match, huh?”

Slowly recovering from the sudden hand-holding, you do what you do best and come out swinging! No clue, you growl–wasn’t he planning on taking those girls dancing?

“Uh… I err..” He stammers as he nearly trips into the crowd surrounding the ring, “That wasn’t-”

Just focus on winning, tough guy, you add in an unimpressed tone. As they say: don’t count your chipmunks before they crash!

“I’ll count whatever I want!” Replies the janitor with renewed confidence! “You know me, Stan–who the hell are they gonna toss at me that can-”

“Oh good, you made it.” Interrupts the skeleton in the sparkly green coat as he flags you two down. “Hurry yer’ ass up–your opponent’s waitin’ for ya.”

Releasing your hand, Talbot gives the announcer’s comments a dismissive wave! “Yea, yea… keep your coat on, twinkle-toes!” Glancing back at you one last time, your ex-bodyguard flashes you a cocky smile! “Wish me luck, yea?”

Uh-huh, you nod with a grin slowly forming on your unimpressed face, knock ‘em dead!

Striding into the ring with both arms lifted in the air, Talbot works the crowd like a pro–waving and pointing finger guns all over the audience, he takes his place on one side of the ring only after the MC finally coaxes everyone into shutting up!

AaAAAAaaaND HIS OPPONENT IN THIS DAVID AND GOLIATH MATCHUP: DON’T LET HER LOOKS DECEIVE YOU, FOLKS, SHE’S A LIT FIRECRACKER! GIVE IT UP FOR… KIIIIIIIIKIIIII!!!!!
https://youtu.be/JHQa1SA3EtI
“Oh SNAP!” Ly exclaims as your team’s pint-sized machine gunner enters the ring with grim determination hidden behind her bangs! As Talbot watches in disbelief, the film student chucks a spent plastic cup to the side as she enters! With killer instinct burning in her obscured eyes, she also takes her time with the crowd by dramatically cupping her hand to her ear and motioning for the skeletons to give it up!

Well, now!” Nats observes as the two fighters prepare for combat, “This oughta’ be exciting!

Sure, you nod, but you don’t know who the heck to root for!

Shoving your way through the forest of skeletons, you manage to find a decent viewing spot near the front just in time for the starting bell!

Let’s see how this plays out! ROLL ME 2d100–one for TALBOT, one for KIKI! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS FOR EACH!

Here’s where you REALLY come in, though: If you WRITE-IN which character you wanna CHEER FOR, they’ll get a BONEUS to the rolls! I’m guessing there will be about ONE OR TWO MORE ROLLS BEFORE THE FIGHT IS DONE! Get going!
>>
Rolled 25, 25 = 50 (2d100)

>>5353853
>>
Rolled 19, 27 = 46 (2d100)

>>5353853
I wouldn’t have felt bad about cheering someone on if they weren’t both our own cronies. Let’s not be too harsh about it and just remind Talbot that he wanted a prize.
>>
>>5353862
>>5353859
This is shaping up to be a pretty sad fight.
>>
>>5353864

I personally wish it ended in the tie.
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>>5353864
Nah, this is just the part in the anime where the guy shouts about how they're evenly matched, or something.

Nah jk Kiki and Talbot both suck, lol
>>
Rolled 92, 3 = 95 (2d100)

>>5353853
>>
>>5353853
Cheer for Kiki
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>>5353879
Well, that fixes the stalemate.
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>>5353884
Yeah, go with this. Let’s cheer for Kiki and tick off Talbot a bit.
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>>5353853
>Be neutral and explain every technique in entirely too many detail like it's an arena arc.
>>
>>5353859
>>5353862
>>5353879
HIGHEST ROLLS:
>TALBOT: 92!
>KIKI: 27+TWO CHEERS (+10) = 37!

>>5353884
>>5353889
>CHEER 1 AND 2!

>>5353938
BE THAT GLASSES GUY IN EVERY ANIME

OOF. Writing!
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>>5353938
>Based 1 post ID
>>
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As the bell rings out across the crowd, neither Kiki nor Talbot dare to make the first move–the former out of what you can only assume is some kind of defensive strategy, the latter, well… dude seems hesitant.

“The hell’s he waiting for?” Ly asks impatiently as he cranes your head forward to get a better look!

Maybe he’s worried he’s gonna hurt her?” Suggests Nats as the crowd starts to chant the word ‘fight’ like a bunch of Middle Schoolers!

Oooor maybe he just doesn’t wanna hit a girl, you ask as the film student takes a few menacing steps towards her opponent.

“He had no problem tossin’ you around back at da’ JOPLIN hootenanny.” Counters your skeleton’s disembodied voice. “Or Mitz.”

Hey, yea, you growl as the sudden realization causes you to ignite with growing anger, that SOB didn’t care at all, did he!? Clambering onto the shoulders of a nearby skeleton clad in football pads, you immediately start clapping as you cheer for Kiki to kick him in the teeth!

“Jeez, Stan,” Ly mutters in an apologetic tone, “Didn’t mean for ya’ ta’ go dat far…”

He can handle it, you hiss as Talbot looks your way with a ‘what the hell?’ look on his face. Besides, you continue as Kiki takes the opportunity to rush him, you won’t have to give him a prize or whatever if he loses!

It’d be pretty cute if you did, though, sis.

Shut uuuuup!

>CONTD.
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>>5354032
By the time Talbot notices Kiki approaching, she’s on him like a janitor-seeking missile! Though nowhere near as tall as her opponent, she makes up for it with the speed and ferocity of her attacks–still flatfooted by your cheering and her sudden appearance, the big oaf is only saved by the GOODBOYNIUM ARMOR his body harbors!

As her fists clink harmlessly off of the hardening liquid metal, Kiki keeps up the pressure and switches things up with a vicious spinning kick to the janitor’s center of gravity! Taking the full force of her sneaker, the attack bounces off of the tracksuited terror’s body once more, but not before sending him reeling backwards from the force of the blow!

Yes, you nod as the rest of the crowd watches him stumble with baited breath, that must have been THE MOVE!

Nani-err, I mean… What are you talking about, sis?” Nats asks with genuine curiosity!

Well, you continue, adjusting the sunglasses you’ve been waiting the whole damn night, that right there is called the TIGER BUSTER–one of Kiki’s most powerful techniques!

“... you’re making this up, ain’tcha.” Asks Ly as Kiki circles around the back of Talbot and leaps onto his back like a feral cat!

I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t seen it myself, you continue as Talbot struggles to pry the college student off of him amidst a chorus of cheers! But there’s no doubt about it, you conclude with a solemn nod, that’s the one… and that means this fight just got interesting!

“Hey, can you keep it down, please?” Asks a skeleton clad in a horned helmet and an animal pelt kilt next to you. “I’m trying to watch, dude.”

Sheesh, ‘sorry’!

>CONTD.
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>>5354034
Just when you and the rest of the spectators are starting to get bored watching a six foot tall manchild try and fail to tear a girl the size of most Middle Schoolers off his back, the tracksuited terror springs into action!

No really, he springs! Fighting through Kiki’s flurry of punches to his big, dumb, nice-smelling haired head, Talbot jumps backwards in an attempt to crush his assailant with his back!

“Whaddaya’ call dat’ one, poindexter?” Ly remarks as Kiki fails to scuttle free in time!

That, of course, you begin before the guy next to you shoots you a dirty look, y’know what? Forget it!

“Alright, alright, Christ this is painful…” Mutters the announcer before ringing the bell next to him on his platform, “AND THERE GOES THAT ROUND, FOLKS! BUT WE DIDN’T COME HERE TO SEE THAT, NOW DID WE!? LET’S GET READY FOR ANOTHER, BETTER ROUND–WINNER TAKES ALL!

The crowd cheers in assent as Kiki scrambles out from under Talbot’s back like a cat crawling under a door. Letting loose with a triumphant ‘WOO!’, Talbot slaps his cheeks a few times before returning to his corner amidst another round of hoots and hollers! As Kiki staggers back over to hers, she shoots you an appreciative, albeit weary grin.

Returning it with one of your own, you momentarily lock eyes with another familiar face across the way–one sporting a thin, but scraggly mustache that saved your ass back in MERMAID JAIL! Waving his bony arm with a triumphant laugh, ANDRE nudges his brother in the side prompting him to notice you as well!

Though not nearly as pleased as his sibling, THE MARQUIS tips his admiral’s cap at you with a practiced smile on his face. Looks like they’re fitting right in, huh?

“Guess so!” Ly agrees. “Was worried those pirates weren’t gonna make it here after dat’ encounter wit’ Boris an’ his morons on da’ beach…”

Yep, you snort, what a dick.

Before you can ponder further, the starting bell rings again, and this time it’s for all the marbles!

“There he goes, girls!” Exclaims one of the greaser gals from earlier as the trio emerges from a section of the crowd not too far from you, “Ain’t he a dreamboat?”

I’LL say!” Giggles Blondie as she idly powders her bony cheeks, “An’ those arms... I’d let him carry me anywhere!

ALL. THE. MARBLES.

That shit sucked, so we’ve got one more round for ya! You know the drill: 2d100: One for Talbot, one for Kiki! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 and don’t forget to CHEER!
>>
Rolled 54, 19 = 73 (2d100)

>>5354036
>>
Rolled 58, 67 = 125 (2d100)

>>5354036
>>
Rolled 38, 81 = 119 (2d100)

>>5354036
He has no restrictions about throwing punches as us and Mitz, but he won’t hit Keek?

Cheer for both of them. Tell Kiki too keep it up, and tell him to quit standing around like a doofus.
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>>5354039
>>5354051
>>5354054
HIGHEST ROLLS:
>TALBOT: 58+1 CHEER(+5) = 63!
>KIKI: 81+1 CHEER (+5) = 86!

Jesus, this is turning into a SCRAAAAAP! Writing!

>>5354054
It seemed like more of a desire NOT to throw punches at her rather than an inability to... m-maybe he'll get more into it in this round? Does Stan even know who the heck she wants to win anymore? Who can say?
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>>5354063
Then again, he was also significantly more intoxicated when he fought us, so there is that.
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“Well crap, can’t call it there…” Mutters the announcer under his breath as Talbot lies twitching on the pavement. “These humans, I swear…” Clearing his nonexistent throat and bringing the mic close to his mouth, the MC resumes his crowd pleaser persona as Kiki offers her opponent a hand in getting up.

WELL THERE YOU HAVE IT, FOLKS: LOOKS LIKE THESE TWO HAVE A BIT MORE FIGHT LEFT IN ‘EM! WHAT SAY WE LET ‘EM BURN THE REST OF IT, HUH? ONE MORE, PEOPLE–PLACE YER’ BETS IF YER’ MAKIN’ EM!

Wow, this is actually starting to heat up a bit!” Nats remarks as Talbot accepts Kiki’s help. Knocking knuckles, the two return to their corners and prepare for what’s gotta be the last round!

DON’T LET THESE CHUMPS HOG ALL THE FUN, FOLKS: COME SEE MY PARTNER SAL HERE AFTER THE MATCH IF YOU WANNA FIGHT NEXT!” Announces the, well, announcer. Finding Sal lurking just below the MC platform, you make a mental note to check in with him in a sec–just in case you’re looking for a scrap, that is!

“Gee, what a drag...” Moans The Polka-Dot Bow gal, “This is takin’ ages…”

“Aw can it, Lola,” Grumbles Claudette as she touches up her hair, “Ya’ ever hear da’ phrase ‘patience is a virtue?’”

“Sure,” Scoffs Lola, “But I prefer ‘hurry da’ hell up’!”

“Yea,” Blondie giggles, “Wouldn’t want a second appearance by da’ AMAZIN’ RACCOON GIRL, right?”

“Keep it down, will ya?” Replies Lola with a hint of embarrassment in her voice, “I hear she’s the one who took down those LIEUTENANTS–she’s real, Gretchen!”

“Yea,” Gretchen snickers as she pops a fresh piece of gum in her mouth, “A real basket case!”

Yea alright they’d better get this damn fight over with NOW.

THE FINAL ROUND! You know the drill: 2d100 and CHEERS, folks! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

While I’m at it, got a question for ya:

What should Stan do AFTER the fight?!

>SIGN UP FOR A SCRAP OF HER OWN!
>SAY HEY TO ANDRE AND THE MARQUIS!
>FLAG DOWN KIKI!
>SNATCH UP TALBOT AGAIN!
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
Rolled 57, 35 = 92 (2d100)

>>5354103
>FLAG DOWN KIKI!
>SNATCH UP TALBOT AGAIN!

We can congratulate them both!
>>
Rolled 89, 55 = 144 (2d100)

>>5354103
Cheer them both on again.

>SIGN UP FOR A SCRAP OF HER OWN!
Ask for the toughest fighter they have around. As long as nobody has any objections or wants to do something else.

>WRITE-IN!
Give Talbot one of our all occasion stickers as a reward. But use pic related if he loses.
>>
>>5354103
>>5354109
>>WRITE-IN!
>Give Talbot one of our all occasion stickers as a reward. But use pic related if he loses.

I support this write-in with my vote.
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>>5354105
Actually, we can do this with my write-in. Just give the sticker to the loser. And give a better sticker to the winner.
>>
Rolled 17, 28 = 45 (2d100)

>>5354103

Kick his ass Kiki!

And then stickers for everyone!
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>>5354105
>>5354109
>>5354161
HIGHEST ROLLS (FINAL)
>TALBOT: 89+1 CHEER (+5) = 94!
>KIKI: 55+2 CHEERS (+10) = 65!

Sorry Keek Geeks, looks like Tall Butt wins this one... Writing!
>>
With one last clang, the bell rings and the crowd goes nuts as your two pals prepare for the final bout! Having learned his lesson from the last match, Talbot keeps his distance from Kiki, but doesn’t slack on his footwork either! Baiting her out of her defensive stance by circling her with a series of feints, he watches the girl closely for any cracks in her rock-hard defense!

Not to be outdone, Kiki reworks her strategy too! Taking Talbot’s bait, the film student advances into her opponent’s range prompting him to close in for an attack! Though he closes his moves up into short, quick jabs and kicks, it’s still too slow–weaving through his clumsy attacks, the spritely student closes the gap between her and him and strikes like a messy-banged viper!

Kiki’s fists become a swarm of angry wasps–-even with his defenses, the sheer speed and spacing of her hits knock him backwards, and try as he might to defend himself, Kiki refuses to get out of his grille once she’s in there!

As a last-ditch attempt to dislodge her, Talbot sends her away with a quick, but brutal spin kick! Ducking beneath it, Kiki barely has time to react as Talbot rushes her once more, prompting the crowd, the members rooting for him, at least, to cry out in anguish!

With a menacing glint in her bang-covered eyes, Kiki takes the opportunity and runs with it! Sure enough, the setup is exactly the same as before–he rushes her, she plants herself, and as the roar of the audience comes to a head, it ends.

THUMP!

The announcer’s previous words ring true once more–had you blinked, you woulda’ missed it. Baiting her into another throw, Talbot beat Kiki to the punch and changed course… but not before hoisting the poor girl up like a sack of potatoes and body slamming her to the ground with full force!

HOLY COW, LADIES AND GENTLEBONES!” Exclaims the announcer as the dust clears around the combatants, “MAN, WE REALLY SHOULDA’ HAD A DOCTOR ON HAND, HUH? WHOOPS!

You’re one second away from rushing in to check on the two when the girl rises to give the crowd a shaking thumbs up! Clasping her on the shoulder with glee, Talbot lifts Kiki onto his shoulder and parades the grinning student around the ring as the crowd goes crazy for both of them!

AND THERE YA’ HAVE IT, FOLKS–A GOOD FIGHT AN’ EVEN BETTER SPORTSMANSHIP AFTERWARDS! YA’ LOVE TA’ SEE IT! ALRIGHT, GET THE HELL OUTTA MY RING!

As the two fighters depart through a parting in the crowd, you immediately rush to beat the greaser girls to your friends!

>CONTD.
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>>5354241
“Holy crap,” Pants Talbot as you make your approach, “That… that was crazy…”

You were not half bad yourself–those moves of yours were def’ top shelf!” She chirps in her usual rhyming!

Skidding to a halt in front of the two fighters with a broad grin on your face, you bring them both into a quick hug! Now that, you remark as you start to rummage around in your pockets, was something!

“You can say that again!” Talbot adds with pride in his voice as Kiki draws you closer into a bigger hug! “She flipped me like a friggin’ omelette, man!”

Yea, you say with a snicker, you saw! Jeez, Keek!

A faux ‘did I do that?’ look appears on her face as you finally find what you’re looking for! Retrieving the JAR OF ALL-OCCASION STICKERS from your coverall pockets, you deftly hide it behind your back as you give Talbot a mischievous wink! So, you begin, is he ready to get his… PRIZE?

“Woah, wha?” He stammers, genuinely taken off-guard, “Really? And here I was thinkin’ you were gonna be too much of a wuss to actually give me something!”

Yea well, you sigh, he’s earned it, so hold out your hand and close your eyes, bitch, he knows how the rest goes!

Watching with bated breath, Kiki’s fce lights up in awe as you quietly retrieve a COOL STICKER from the jar and place it in Talbot’s outstretched hand! Go on, you nod, take a look, stupid!

“Whuh? What’s…” Seeing your prize in his hand, Talbot’s expression shifts from confusion to surprise and finally childlike glee over the span of one second! “SERIOUSLY?!”

Yea, dick, congrats, you nod as you pick out another sticker for Kiki! Holding it out for her to grab, you watch as Kiki too lights up with surprise and excitement as she realizes what you gave her!

Once the realization kicks in, though, she flips you the bird. That’s the way she goes!

So, you begin as both fighters safely stow their prizes in their pockets for later stickin’, who’s up for another drink? You’ll need one before your fi-

“Well well well, lookie here, girls!”

Whirling towards the voice, you’re saved from a clumsy fall by Kiki’s quick hands as you find yourself staring at the trio of greaser gals from before… and they ain’t amused!

>CONTD.
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>>5354248
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lcp2XvFMwLQ
“Whatcha’ think you’re doin’ with Talbie, doll?” Snarls Lola as she adjusts her Polka-Dot Bow, “You gonna take him to your favorite dumpster or somethin’?”

“Yea, run along, racKOOK,” Sneers Claudette as she takes a menacing step forward, “We’re all gettin’ real sick of you butting your head in where it don’t belong, ain’t we, gals?”

Real sick, Claudette…”Gretchen Hisses as she runs a SWITCH COMB through her blonde hair! “So are you gonna bounce, sister, or are we gonna have to show you just how sick we can get?”

Hold on a sec, you mutter as your hand returns to the sticker jar, you’re pretty sure you have one for them, too! Fishing around for a few seconds, you find what you need and flick a ‘TAKE A HIKE, SLUTS!’ sticker at Claudette’s powdered-up face! Keep it!

“Knew you’d choose the hard way…” She growls as she and the others join in a sadistic giggle fit! “Lucky for you, doll, we’ve got just the thing to settle this whole problem!”

“Hold on a sec, ladies…” Interrupts Talbot as he slithers between you and the girls, “Before we do anything crazy here, I’d like to remind you all that there’s plenty of Talbot to go aro-”

CAN IT, YA’ DOPE!
CAN IT, YA’ DOPE!
CAN IT, YA’ DOPE!
CAN IT, YA’ DOPE!

Intimidated by your sudden synchronization, Talbot wordlessly slinks back to the side as a new announcement blares across the festival:

BETTER GO FIND SOME CATNIP, FOLKS, CUZ’ THESE KITTENS DEFINITELY HAVE CLAWS! BY SPECIAL ORDER AND FOR TONIGHT ONLY, WE’VE GOT A MATCH THAT’S SURE TO BE A FIRECRACKER: OUR HOME-GROWN HELLCATS: THE TREMOR SISTEEEEERRS! VERSUS THE CLEANER HERSELF: STANLEY PAAAARBLE!

At the sound of both names, the crowd loses it and never gets it back! Sending a trio of mischievous grins your way, the sisters cock their skulls back towards the arena!

“You comin’, pussycat?”

Wait a sec, you mutter in confusion, are they serious?

“Wait a sec,” Talbot mutters, “You’re sisters?”

Focus, dumbass! Kiki, kick him for me! Obeying the command with military efficiency, the film student takes care of keeping Talbot in check while you repeat your question to your foes!

“As a matter of fact, we are!” Sneers Claudette as she twirls one of her locks in her finger!

“Don’t worry, we won’t hurtcha’. It’s just a friendly rumble, after all!” Explains Lola with a sadistic smirk!

“An’ if you just happen to get knocked out an’ sent ta’ bed early, well…” Gretchen concludes with a flash of her teeth, “Oops!”

“I…” Ly mutters in utter confusion, “I can’t tell if these broads are dumb, crazy, or both!”

One thing’s for sure: you ain’t losing to a bunch of fancy-haired has-beens!

>CONTD.
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>>5354250
“Okay, so here’s the strat, Stan:” Talbot begins as both he and Kiki prepare you on your side of the ring, “First thing’s first: none of this-okay, maybe a little of this is my fault.”

For the record, you snarl as you watch your opponents bathe themselves in clouds of perfume so pungent you can feel your eyes and nose start to burn from here, ALL of this is his fault. ALL of it! And that ain’t a strat!

“Okay, we’ll table it for now.” Replies your fellow janitor in a placating tone. “Second, and this kinda ties into the first one–it’d be kinda impolite if they won and I didn’t go dance with them, so-”

Kiki, you grunt, prompting her to stop massaging your shoulders, hit him again, please. Hard.

“OW! I’m just-GNRK!-Trying to b-OOF!-POLITE!”

Still kicking him in the shins with gusto, Kiki suddenly remembers something mid-beatdown and fishes a SMALL SIGNED ENVELOPE from her hoodie pocket addressed to YOU! Still kicking Talbot like a champ, she holds it out to you and gestures for you to open it after!

Sure, you nod, stowing the letter in your pocket, later! Reciprocating your nod with one of her own, Kiki delivers another kick to Talbot’s stomach as the announcer’s used car salesman voice once again blares from the speakers!

ATTENTION HUMANS: THIS IS NOW THE THIRD TIME I’VE ASKED YA’ TO CLEAR THE DAMN RING! LET’S GET THIS STARTED ALREADY!

Dragging Talbot into the audience, you crack your knuckles as the MC continues! “ALRIGHT LADIES, YOU KNOW THE DRILL: NO MAGIC, NO WEAPONS, NO KOOKY POWERS HERE–JUST GOOD OLE’ FISTS AND FEET! FIRST ONE TO THE GROUND LOSES! AN-

ALLO’, STAN!” Roars a familiar grog-soaked, accented voice from the audience! “I BET MY SHEET BROZER ZAT YOU’D BE KEEKING ZEZE LADIE’S ASSES! SO TRY NOT TO LO-

OH MY GOD, SHUT UP!” Roars the MC as he glares daggers at Andre’s sheepish face! “ALRIGHT, GO! GO KILL EACH OTHER, PLEASE!

With a ring of the bell, you and the ladies square up for a scrap!

Without your powers or weapons, you might need to think about this one a little more cautiously–after all, you don’t wanna hit that floor too early! What’s the play here?
>BE DEFENSIVE! LET THE GIRLS COME TO YOU!
>STRIKE WHILE YOU’VE GOT THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE! RUSH ‘EM!
>TAUNT THEM! RATTLE THEIR BONES A BIT!
>HIT N’ RUN! USE YOUR SPEED TO YOUR ADVANTAGE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5354252
>>TAUNT THEM! RATTLE THEIR BONES A BIT!
>>HIT N’ RUN! USE YOUR SPEED TO YOUR ADVANTAGE!
>>
>>5354252
>TAUNT THEM! RATTLE THEIR BONES A BIT!
>HIT N’ RUN! USE YOUR SPEED TO YOUR ADVANTAGE!
I can’t think of an insult right now.
>>
>>5354255
>>5354263
>TAUNT N' TAG!

Sure, we can do two in one! Here's how it's gonna play out:

ROLL ME 1d100+5(+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 BONE SPEED, -5 RUNNING AND TRYING TO TAUNT, -5 FRIGGIN PERFUME SMELL EVERYWHERE!) TO HIT N' SPIT! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

As per usual, WRITING IN A TAUNT or SPECIFIC ACTION might result in EXTRA BONEUSES for the roll!
>>
>>5354252
>TAUNT THEM! RATTLE THEIR BONES A BIT!
>>HIT N’ RUN! USE YOUR SPEED TO YOUR ADVANTAGE!

Ladies, not even all that pomade can cover up those receeding hairlines. And are you trying to attract boys or raccoons with that stink, because the raccoon is coming in hot!
>>
>>5354309
Whoops, sorry--that should be a 2d100+5 for taunting AND attacking! Carry on!
>>
Rolled 86, 35 + 5 = 126 (2d100 + 5)

>>5354309
Use >>5354311
>>
Rolled 24, 58 = 82 (2d100)

>>5354317
>>5354309

RACOON POWERRRRRRR
>>
Rolled 76, 49 + 5 = 130 (2d100 + 5)

>>5354309
lets go with this >>5354311
>>
>>5354319
>>5354328
>>5354329
HIGHEST ROLLS:
>TAUNT: 91+ 5 WRITE-IN BONEUS = 96!
>HIT N' RUN: 63!

Writing!
>>
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https://youtu.be/i_piia0hKbo
Cautiously, you mutter under your breath as the gals circle you like a pack of wolves, riiight... darting to the side just as the three pounce, you avoid their attack about a week in advance and snicker as they track you with glowing red eyes! Throwing them off-balance with a few feints, you deliver a quick knock to the side of Gretchen’s blonde head and duck out of the way just in time to avoid a pincer attack by the two other sisters!

“Ngh,” Blondie growls as the girls struggle to keep you contained, “you gonna run around all day, sis, or are ya’ gonna fight?”

“Let her run, Gretch,” Says Claudette with a fiendish grin, “She’ll run outta energy before ya’ know it…”

They’re still confident, you think to yourself as the sisters begin to box you in again, better change that!

Ladies, you announce as you rush Claudette and drop into a sliding kick, all the pomade in the world won’t cover up those receding hairlines!

Jumping over your attack, Claudette swings at your sliding form as her two other sisters rush to cut you off!

“Oh, you’d better not be yappin’ about our hair!” Snarls Lola as she just barely misses tackling you as you leap back to your feet!

“You’ll be lucky if you have any when we’re done with you!” Gretchen adds as she takes a few wild swings at your face! Ducking and weaving under and around them, you take the opportunity to play a little chin music on her! Delivering a one-two-punch combo to the skeleton’s jaw, you add some icing on the cake in the form of a jumping spin-kick–one that sends Blondie’s skull spinning on its axis!

As she struggles to stop her head from spinning, Claudette and Lola pick up the pace and attack you from both sides! When you move to the right, they follow! To the left? Same old! As Lola winds up for an uppercut in front of you, you inadvertently step right into Claudette’s grasp!

“Smell that, kid?” She whispers as the acrid scent of her perfume starts to make you woozy, “That’s right–take a big whiff…”

Ech, no thanks! Using Claudette’s chokehold for support, you lift both legs up and mule kick the approaching Lola square in her leather-jacketed ribs much to the crowd’s delight!

“Zat’s zee way, Stanley!” Roars Andre as Kiki and Talbot cheer next to him, “Tear zem to pieces!”

Yea, you huff as you struggle to break free from Claudette’s death grip, you’re workin’ on it!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5354358
Tucking your head forward, you jerk backwards and slam the back of your skull into the front of the greaser’s with a sickening CRUNCH!

“Ooh, dat’s gonna need more den’ a little makeup ta’ touch up…” Ly remarks as Claudette releases you from her clutches!

Man, you cough as you reach back and grab Claudette by the neck, are they trying to attract boys or raccoons with that stink?!

“Gnk… Boys..”

Well you might wanna reread the label, you grin, because this raccoon’s comin’ in HOT!

“H-huh?”

Taking advantage of their confusion, you yank Claudette in front of you just in time to intercept a kick from the no longer spinning Gretchen! Crashing into her sister at terminal velocity, the girl yelps a quiet ‘sorry!’ as she sends Claudette crashing to the ground!

WOAH-HOH, FOLKS! I HAVEN’T SEEN A GIRL GET HIT LIKE THAT SINCE MY DAD WAS ALIVE! MAN, HE WAS A FIEND, I TELL YA! AT LEAST WHEN HE WAS HITTING HER HE WASN’T HITTING ME! SMALL COMFORTS! BOY, I REALLY OUGHTA SPEAK TO A SHRINK OR SOMETHIN’ ABOUT THIS STUFF INSTEAD OF ANNOUNCING IT TO RANDOM PEOPLE AN’ MAKING THINGS REAL UNCOMFORTABLE, HUH? ANYWAYS, TWO SISTERS REMAIN–WATCH OUT!

“KEEP IT UP, STAN!” Roars Talbot as Kiki wildly fires her LIGHT MACHINE GUN in the air to everyone’s enjoyment, “AND UH… YOU TWO KEEP GOING TOO!”

This asshole owes YOU a prize once you sort this crap out for him! Stupid Talbot... seeing Gretchen still regaining her balance from disqualifying her sister, you rush in for the attack, but feel your head start to swim as you rush closer!

“D’awww, what’s wrong, honey?” the girl chirps as she brushes the soot off her leather pants, “You ain’t lookin’ so good…”

ROLL 1d100+10 (+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, -5 THAT DAMN SCENT!) TO RESIST THE PERFUME! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Gonna also pick this up THURSDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST–getting a little late over here! Hope to see you then!
>>
>>5354360
Shit, I meant 1d100+5! See, this is why I gotta finish for the night--being WAY too nice to you guys.
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>5354360

Can Ly have brain turn off olfactory?
>>
Rolled 88 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5354360
> “WOAH-HOH, FOLKS! I HAVEN’T SEEN A GIRL GET HIT LIKE THAT SINCE MY DAD WAS ALIVE!”
Lmao

>>5354371
If only we had a nose plug or something.
>>
Rolled 86 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5354360
>>
>>5354378
why not just put some stickers over them
>>
>>5354390
I mean, if bones will allow it, sure. And as long as you don’t care about us looking like an idiot.
>>
>>5354378
>>5354390
>>5354406
Just saw this--you know what? Sure! That's usin' the ole' noodle! I'll give you a flat resistance to the STENCH if you do one last task for me:

WHAT'S ON THE TWO STICKERS YOU PLACE OVER YOUR NOSTRILS?

I'll write the next update in the morning. Good thinking, gang.
>>
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>>5354437
If we are covering stench we might as go well with stickers of nice smelling stuff so how about a pie and a rose
>>
>>5354444
Genius post and also quads. It must be done, bones.
>>
>>5354444

But what if their perfume smells like flowers? That would double the smell. Do we have a poo emoji one?

Fun fact: perfumes used to use ass secretions from civets. Don’t ask how I came across this tidbit of info.
>>
>>5354444

Quads quads quads
>>
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>>5354371
>>5354378
>>5354386
>HIGHEST ROLL: 93!

>>5354444
>>5354445
>>5354452
Quads have indeed spoken. Pie and Roses are LOCKED THE FUCK IN!

>>5354450
Lol perfumeplebs, amirite
Huh... you can't quite place the scent, but whatever it is is making you sleepy... VERY sleepy...

WRITING!
>captcha: BARKK
>>
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>>5354769
As your head begins to feel fuzzier than usual, it dawns on you:

This perfume SUCKS!

Shaking the scent out of your nostrils, you abandon your attack on the downed skeleton in favor of a really neat front flip! As the crowd cheers in amazement, your split-second judgment pays off–you scarcely make it into the air before Gretchen whiffs a mule kick aimed at where your face just was! As her attack goes wide, you land like a pro on the other side of her and deliver a kick of your own to her leather-clad hips!

Stumbling from the blow and taking her disgusting scent with her, that lone, dusty lightbulb in your head flickers to life with a plan! Reaching into your JAR OF STICKERS, you swiftly retrieve two about the diameter of your nostrils! Oh hey, they’re NOSTRIL-PLUGGING STICKERS! nifty! As you stick two of them on, it suddenly occurs to you that you’ve got a problem!

YOU CAN’T BREATHE!

Clutching your throat in panic, it only takes a few seconds for you to use up the last bit of oxygen in your lungs before you collapse like a sack of cinnamon-scented potatoes onto the pavement.

DEAD.

GAME OVE-

“Just breathe through your mouth, you moron.” Grumbles Ly as you snap back to reality! Oh yea, huh! Adjusting your breathing parameters, you take advantage of your new SMELL IMMUNITY just as the two remaining sisters rush you from both sides! Oh cool, you scoff, they’re gonna try kicking you again! Ha!

Oh crap, they’re gonna try kicking you again!

ROLL 1d100+10 (+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, -0 PERFUME SCENT, BITCH) TO NOT GET KICKED! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 57 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5354794
>>
Rolled 41 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5354794
>>
Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>5354794

Drop low and let them kick into each other! Then pop back up and grab their extended legs!
>>
>>5354797
>>5354800
>>5354806
>HIGHEST ROLL: 67!

Yep, that oughta' do the trick!

>>5354806
Oh hey, someone added in a neat idea here. Good on you, anon--I think I'll use it!

Writing!
>>
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>>5354832
Oh wait, they’re gonna try kicking you again! Standing your ground with a cocky grin on your freckled face, you bait the two remaining sisters into continuing their charge. Just a little closer now…

“Choke on dis’, freak!” Roars Lola as she and Gretchen close the gap with two flying spin kicks: one high, one low!

Thanks, you’re good! Ducking below the higher kick, you immediately hop over the low one and catch yourself on your extended palm like a breakdancer! Pushing back off as both kicks go wide, you land back on your feet just in time to finish things!

If it weren’t for your BONE SPEED it wouldn’t be possible, probably, but you’re STANLEY PARBLE: you make everything possible! Except for flying, of course, but you’re working on it.

STAN!
CUPCAKE!

Oh right, the fight. As you were narrating, using your handy speed, catching both girl’s legs in mid-kick is pretty easy! So much so that when your hands clasp around their extended ankles, you manage to get a really tight grip! Tight enough, you reason, to do something real mean!

By the time the sisters and the audience realize what’s happening, it’s already too late! Raising both arms above your head, you yank both girls downwards with all your might and send them crashing into the ground like a pair of oily-haired whips!

“Aw nuts-

A gut-wrenching pair of CRUNCHES reverberate across the arena as your opponents, namely their faces, get intimately acquainted with the arena floor! Leaving them both where they land, you triumphantly remove the stickers from your nostrils and place one on each of the defeated girl’s faces!

Wait a sec… Rummaging through your STICKER JAR one more time, you retrieve a pair of ‘YOU GOT BEAT LIKE AN EGG!’ stickers and stick those on as well. Man, they really are all-occasion!

When it’s clear you aren’t going to perform any more antics, the crowd erupts once again as you step over your opponents back towards your friends!

BOY, THE MEMORIES KEEP COMING BACK, FOLKS! BACK WHEN I WAS A BOY COMING BACK HOME AND ONLY FINDING THREE KNOCKED-OUT LADIES IN THE PARLOR WAS A GOOD DAY! ANYWAYS, ENOUGH ABOUT ME–LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR STANLEEEEEEYYY!

“Arr, zat be the way we be doin’ things, lass!” Laughs Andre as his fancypants brother begrudgingly forks over what appear to be a few DUBLOONS from his breast pocket!

“Pretty good, Stan!” Adds Talbot as Kiki immediately tackles you into a hug, “See I knew you’d beat those chicks, so that’s why I agreed to-”

Flicking a ‘I’M STILL PEEVED THAT YOU GOT ME INTO A FIGHT WITH A GAGGLE OF DERANGED GREASER GAL SKELETONS’ sticker at his face, you take a moment to bask in that sweet, sweet, post-battle high! Man, that’s nice!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5354867
“Not bad at all, kid!” Ly chirps as you watch a bedraggled Claudette slowly pick her sisters off the ground behind you, “Man, some party, huh?”

My favorite part was when they stopped moving!” Adds Nats in a cheerful tone!

Yea, well, you sigh as you feel more sober than before, you hope they learned their lesson!

I don’t!

THAT’S RIGHT, GET THE HELL OUTTA’ THE RING! WE’VE GOT A SCHEDULE TO KEEP HERE, FOLKS, CRIPES…” Adjusting his coat a bit, the announcer clears his throat as the sisters limp off into the crowd with murder in their glowing red eyes! “NEXT UP, FOLKS, WE’VE GO-HOLY CATS, LOOK AT THAT!

Before you can chat up your pals, a whirlwind of fur, claws, and hisses tumbles into the ring! As you struggle to get a better look, the announcer does the job for you!

HOLD THAT NEXT FIGHT, EVERYONE–WE APPEAR TO HAVE ONE GOING ALREADY AND IT IS HOT, HOT, HOT! ON ONE, UH, END WE HAVE… looks like a possum? AND ON THE OTHER WE HAVE… HEY, GET OUT OF THE RING, STANLEY! YOU WON ALRE-oh wait… IT’S A RACCOON, LADIES AND GENTLEBONES! FALSE ALARM!
https://youtu.be/373gDGtK4SI
Not just any raccoon either–fighting tooth and claw over what appears to be an old slice of PIZZA, LIL’ STANLEY and THE POSSUM fight with all their might to everyone’s enjoyment! Hah, stupid animals!

Entranced by the furry fracas, you and your friends watch with childlike glee as you contemplate your next move!

>HIT UP ANDRE AND HIS BROTHER! WHERE’S MY PIECE OF THE BET, DICK!?
>READ KIKI’S LETTER! WHEN DID SHE WRITE THIS ANYWAYS?
>GET YOUR PRIZE FROM TALBOT! HE DID THINK UP A PRIZE, DIDN’T HE? HMMM, MISTER?!
>CHEER ON LIL’ STANLEY! GET THE FOOD, GIRL!
>YOU WANNA GO ANOTHER ROUND! FIGHT!
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE–YOU NEED A CHANGE OF SCENERY!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5354868
>>READ KIKI’S LETTER! WHEN DID SHE WRITE THIS ANYWAYS?
>>GET YOUR PRIZE FROM TALBOT! HE DID THINK UP A PRIZE, DIDN’T HE? HMMM, MISTER?!

We can do both of these, right? They're not mutually-exclusive?
>>
>>5354875
Sure, why not? We'll see where the votes go, but I can probably swing that shit!
>>
>>5354868
>READ KIKI’S LETTER! WHEN DID SHE WRITE THIS ANYWAYS?
>>
>>5354868
>READ KIKI’S LETTER! WHEN DID SHE WRITE THIS ANYWAYS?
>CHEER FOR LIL STANLEY!
>>
>>5354868
>READ KIKI’S LETTER! WHEN DID SHE WRITE THIS ANYWAYS?
>GET YOUR PRIZE FROM TALBOT! HE DID THINK UP A PRIZE, DIDN’T HE? HMMM, MISTER?!
>CHEER ON LIL’ STANLEY! GET THE FOOD, GIRL!

Because I enjoy making Bones write four post updates.
>>
>>5354875
>>5354894
>>5354917
>>5354936
THE TALLY:
>KIKI'S LETTER: 4!
>TALBOT: 2!
>CHEER FOR LIL' STANLEY: 2!

Looks like Keek Geeks win again!

>>5354936
Not today, Satan. Seems we'll be spacing things out!

Writing!
>>
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As the battle for the pizza rages on, it suddenly dawns on you that Kiki handed you something before you cleaned up Talbot’s stupid mess! Returning your JAR OF STICKERS to your spacious coverall pockets, you push past the REPEATER RIFLE, ROCKET LAUNCHER, MERMAID SMUT, REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUUUUCK and a few other volatile odds n’ ends before finding the envelope!

Fishing it out and taking a closer look, you find that it’s addressed ‘To Stan’. Hey, that’s you!

“Errr, should we be openin’ it here?” Asks Ly as he cranes your neck closer to the letter!

Yea, what if it’s personal? O-or a LOVE LETTER??” Nats adds with growing worry in her voice! Here’s what’s gonna happen, you reply firmly: you’re gonna ask the girl herself and Nats is gonna take a chill pill!

Roger! Chill Pill: Taken!” Chirps your demonic tenant as you gently pat the film student on her shoulder! Hey Keek, you begin as the crowd cheers for the two critters locked in their desperate struggle, it cool if I read this now?

Noticing the letter you’re currently waving in her face, Kiki gives you a reassuring nod as a pleasant grin forms on her face! As you open the envelope with your thumb, she sidles up next to you and watches as you unfold a piece of pink stationary covered in disgustingly-cute kittens! D’awww!

As the girl punches you in the shoulder, you decide to move on and start reading… or try to, at least. Scanning the curly, handwritten words on the page, you give up on the first word! What the hell is this, anyways? Mexican!?

“It’s cursive, Stan.” Groans Ly as Kiki looks at you with concern behind her bangs! “Tell ya what: why don’t I read it an’ you just repeat after me?”

Well if he’s offering...

After a few false starts and a quick vocal coaching session with some of the bigger words, you clear your throat as Kiki’s worried expression deepens and prepare to READ!

“We’d better not hafta’ roll fer’ dis…”

Shut up, Ly, why do you think HE’S reading it?

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5354987
Dear Stan,” you begin, struggling to be heard amidst the violent shrieking in the center of the ring and the even violenter cheers around you, “Traveling with you for the past few days has been an absolute nightmare.HEY!

Stifling a giggle with her hand, the film student motions for you to keep going. “Just kidding!” Oh, you see what she did there… nice! Nodding appreciatively, Kiki lets you continue. “It’s hard to believe that if things had been even a smidge bit different, I would have blown you to ribbons with Ole’ Maru. Maru’s my gun, by the way.

Yea, you nod as Kiki shows off her trusty LIGHT MACHINE GUN to you, they were looting that gas station when you found them!

“Close call, huh?” Ly remarks with an almost nostalgic tone in his voice, “Feels like ancient history now.”

But fate conspired to put us all together, and through the bad, the good, and the downright weird, one thing remained constant: your undying courage and willingness to tackle this whole situation head on! Whoops, guess that’s two things, huh?” Yea, you frown, it is! Did she even try to proofread this, o-OW!

“Keep readin’.” Growls Ly as the stinging sensation in your skull disappears as quickly as it arrived!

I know I’m not the strongest one on the team. Or the funniest. Or the most outspoken. But I’m also not the most annoying, so there’s that, I guess.

What?” Asks Talbot as you send a pointed stare in his direction. “WHAT??” Ignoring his questions, you continue down the letter. “Really though, I’ve had a lot of time to think about everything going on in the past few days, and though I still worry about my parents, wherever they are, I can’t deny that despite all of the horrible things I’ve seen, I’ve also forged some unbreakable bonds. Gus, Art, Syb, Mitzi, even Denise… I never would have met these amazing people without your kindness, so thank you, Stan. Thank you for being that person.

Heh, you laugh with redness spreading through your cheeks, you uh… you’re welcome!

WHAAAAT?! ANSWER ME, STAN!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5354988
And that’s what this letter is about, Stan: kindness. They’ll never tell you themselves, but Eddie and Tucker are terrified of what might happen tomorrow. They put on a good show, those two, but I’ve hung out with them long enough to know that they’re a bunch of blowhards. It’s a girl thing.

Closing in on the end of the letter, you take your time reading the last few sentences as Kiki watches with bated breath.

I see it in everyone else on the team, too, but I sense something else as well: courage. Courage to bring this whole thing to a close for better or worse. Courage to follow you to Hell and back. I know it because I feel it too.

So thank you for being you, Stan. The film crew’s with you til’ the end and then some. Whatever happens in the coming days, you’ll always have a seat at my family’s restaurant and a free meal to go with it. I think you’ll have earned it once this is all done.

Love,
Keek

P.S: Don’t even think of abusing the free meal thing or I’ll pop you in the mouth.


Reaching the end of the note, you look up from the letter to find its author grinning sheepishly at you. With a nervous ‘ta-da’ gesture, she seems to be waiting for a response of some kind.

ME TOO!” Roars Talbot with growing anger in his voice! “WHY WERE YOU STARING AT ME, HUH!?

How do you respond? (To Kiki, not Talbot.)
>HUG IT OUT, BITCH!
>ASK WHAT CONSTITUTES A ‘FREE MEAL’! DOES THAT INCLUDE DRINKS AND SOUP?
>THANK HER BACK! SHE AND MARU HAVE BEEN PRETTY DARN HANDY!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5354989
>HUG IT OUT, BITCH!
And they’re always welcome to our apartment after this. Including whatever frozen foods or day-old pizza we have hanging around, too.
>>
>>5355000
+1 More hugs
>>
>>5355000
>>5354989

I too agree with the trips
>>
>>5355000
>>5355033
>>5355038
>TRIPS DEMANDS HUGS

Can't argue with that! Sorry for the delay, had some important started playing Bug Fables business that made me lose track of time!

Writing!
>>
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Quickly and quietly folding up the letter and stowing it in your pocket, you hold out the remains of the envelope in Talbot’s direction. Eyeing it suspiciously, he raises an eyebrow your way when his internal analysis comes up blank.

“... damn it, just use your damn WORDS already!”

A recycling bin, you command in a soft, but firm voice, dispose of it. Glancing between you and the envelope with growing annoyance, the janitor begrudgingly snatches the paper from your hands and storms off angrily muttering to himself. Does he WANT someone else to have to pick it up later!?

Raising a finger behind him in a pretty universal gesture, you wave Talbot off and turn your attention back to Kiki. Still standing in front of you expectantly, you defy her expectations with a SURPRISE HUG!

“Jeez, Stan,” Ly mutters to himself as Kiki immediately reciprocates, “You’re really inta’ hugging late, ain’tcha?”

I think it’s CUTE!” Nats decrees as you give the film student a few reassuring pats on the back, “Keep hugging, Stan! Hug until your arms get sore!

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: HUG LYFE!

By the way, you add, brushing off Ly’s unwelcome and unneeded criticism, she’s always welcome to hang at your place after this!

… and maybe after some light cleaning.

Heavy cleaning.

… you might need to clean up your desktop, too.

“Mighty generous of ya, cupcake!” Chuckles Ly as Kiki nods excitedly in your arms! “Don’t forget ta’ mention all da’ fine dinin’ she can partake in! Week-Old Pizza! Stale Mac-N-Cheese! Dose’ Mushrooms Ya’ Bought In Bulk Thinkin’ They Were Hallucinogenic!

Hey, you hiss under your breath as you give Kiki’s hair a good tousle for good measure, they go really well with cheese dip and garlic salt, okay? They’re practically ‘halitosis’ with how tasty they are! Money well spent!

“An’ who can forget: Infinite Dry Spaghetti Ta’ Crunch On Like Some Kinda’ Livestock!

Yea okay this conversation’s over. Quietly thanking Kiki one more time, it isn’t long before ‘Tall, Dumb and Handso-err, HANDFUL’ comes stomping back red in the face!

“Dude, there’s, like, TWO recycling bins in this whole damn party! I had to run halfway across the Drive-In!”

My HERO, you reply with a roll of your eyes.

“Lemme guess: you’re still pissed, right?”

Whatever gave him that idea?

“You made me run across the Drive-In to throw away paper, BUTTHEAD!

It was a rattwerkable question, STUPID!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5355223
After nearly upstaging Lil’ Stanley and her foe with your own minor kicking squabble alongside the ring, you’re ready to ponder your next action once you convince Kiki and Andre to stop pulling you and Talbot apart!

What’s next, slick?

>ASK KIKI A QUESTION! MAYBE SHE CAN WRITE THE ANSWER DOWN TO SPEED THINGS UP?
>HIT UP ANDRE AND HIS DINGUS BROTHER!
>PRIZE, TALBOT. WHAT DID YOU WIN, HM?
>MAN, THAT LIL’ STANLEY CAN FIGHT! MAYBE YOU SHOULD CHEER HER ON OR SOMETHING?
>EH, YOU’RE NEEDED ELSEWHERE! BYE, ALL!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5355227
>MAN, THAT LIL’ STANLEY CAN FIGHT! MAYBE YOU SHOULD CHEER HER ON OR SOMETHING?
Our better half (minus Ly and Nats), deserves some appreciation and encouragement every now and then.
>>
>>5355227
>>MAN, THAT LIL’ STANLEY CAN FIGHT! MAYBE YOU SHOULD CHEER HER ON OR SOMETHING?
>>
>>5355239
>>5355240
>RACC ATTACC!

Writing!
>>
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Alright, you really can’t be distracted from this any longer! Having already recovered from the Warm N’ Fuzzies Kiki’s letter gave you and the minor stinging Talbot’s kicks gave your shins, you turn your attention back to the main event of the night!

I’M AT A LOSS FOR WORDS, HERE, PEOPLE! IT’S LIKE A NASTY, FURRY CAR CRASH: I JUST CAN’T LOOK AWAY!

And neither can you! Through some bizarre miracle the slice of pizza Lil’ Stanley and the possum are fighting over hasn’t been torn to shreds yet–in fact, it’s looking just about as pristine as any other slice would if it fell onto the ground at a Drive-In party!

WE’VE GOT A BUNCH MORE FIGHTS LINED UP TONIGHT, EVERYBODY, BUT I’D HAVE TO BE SOME KIND OF FOOL TO BREAK THINGS UP NOW!

Locked in a squealing, growling stalemate, it dawns upon you that this fight… this clash between two trash-scrounging titans… it could go on forever!

“Would dat’ truly be a bad thing, though?” Asks Ly as Lil’ Stanley flies into her opponent with a bodyslam!

No, you whisper, still spellbound, no it wouldn’t… but that’s the problem right there, you slowly realize: if this fight doesn’t wrap up you’ll be here until morning! You need your beauty sleep, damn it!

Clutching your fists in resolve, you glance at Kiki and Talbot and receive a pair of solemn nods in response. One way or another, this has to end… but how?

>CHEER FOR YOUR ‘PET’! POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT ALWAYS WORKS IN THE LONG RUN!
>CHUCK AN EMPTY CAN OR SOMETHING AT THE POSSUM! PROVIDE SUPPORT!
>GRAB THE PIZZA SLICE AND HOLD ONTO IT! THAT OUGHTA’ MAKE THE POSSUM LOSE INTEREST!
>SPLIT THE PIZZA IN TWO! ONE FOR EACH FIGHTER!
>JUST GET IN THERE AND CHUCK THE DANG POSSUM AWAY!
>HAVE SOMEONE ELSE DEAL WITH THE POSSUM! JUST END IT!
>YOU WOULDN’T WANT TO DEPRIVE THESE PEOPLE OF A FIGHT LIKE THIS–JUST LET IT CONTINUE AND DO SOMETHING ELSE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5355294
>>CHEER FOR YOUR ‘PET’! POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT ALWAYS WORKS IN THE LONG RUN!
>>
Getting a little late on my end, so I'm gonna call it here for tonight--should have more around FRIDAY 10-11AM PST! Thanks for playing and hope to see you then!
>>
>>5355294
>>CHEER FOR YOUR ‘PET’! POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT ALWAYS WORKS IN THE LONG RUN!

This is lil Stan's fight, to interfere directly would be the height of sacrilege.

Let her know we've got a world's best mutant trash panda sticker for her.
>>
>>5355294
>CHEER FOR YOUR ‘PET’! POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT ALWAYS WORKS IN THE LONG RUN!
>>
>>5355294
>CHEER FOR YOUR ‘PET’! POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT ALWAYS WORKS IN THE LONG RUN!

Lil’ Stanley’s got this. I believe in her.
>>
>>5355294
>CHEER FOR YOUR ‘PET’! POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT ALWAYS WORKS IN THE LONG RUN!
>>
>>5355294
>PROVIDE YOUR PET WITH TACTICAL ADVICE!
>>
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>>5355308
>>5355350
>>5355381
>>5355409
>CHEER HER ON!

>>5355617
>TACTICAL SUPPORT!

Looks like the power of friendship or whatever wins again! ROLL ME 1d100+5 (+5 CINNAMON SCENT) TO SEE HOW EFFECTIVE YOUR SUPPORT IS! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

If you have any specific POSITIVE RACCOON REINFORCEMENT STRATS or OPOSSUM WEAKNESS DATA to share, WRITE IT IN FOR BONEUSES!
>>
Rolled 14 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5355928
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>5355928
>>
Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>5355928
>>
>>5355950
>>5355966
>>5355982
>HIGHEST ROLL: 65!
Writing!
>>
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Lil’ Stanley hasn’t done you wrong yet… not that she’s done a lot of good, either. Still, you reason, it wouldn’t hurt to cheer her on a bit being her supposed ‘master’ and whatnot.

Erupting into a torrent of frantic claps and cheers, you attempt to throw in a whistle or two as well, but fail miserably! Still, your spastic and sudden enthusiasm causes both critters to put their scrap on hold, most likely due to them thinking you’re a predator coming to eat them!

Thankfully, Lil’ Stanley’s been around you long enough to be semi-used to your antics, so while the opossum/possum/opossoumo freezes in place with visible confusion on its hoary face, your ‘pet’ in name only takes advantage of the situation and tackles her foe to the ground!

Shrieks fill the air as the terrible trash panda nips and claws at the opossum with renewed vigor, no doubt rejuvenated by your all but divine intervention! Grabbing her foe by its wormlike tail, Lil’ Stanley begins to swing the poor critter around like a grim hammer throw event!

Hissing and clawing at the air, the opossum reaches terminal velocity as the skeletons bay for blood! With one final mischievous grin on her bandit-masked face, Lil’ Stanley has a change of heart and lets her foe go…

Into the SKY, that is!

Sailing up and over the crowd, the opossum shakes its pink, gnarled fist as it tumbles into low orbit and disappears into the horizon!

WOAH-HO, FOLKS! I HAVEN’T SEEN A POSSUM GET TOSSED LIKE THAT SI-WAIT, NOPE, THAT WAS A WOMAN! GOLLY, POP WAS FULL OF SPIT AN’ GUNPOWDER! ANYWAYS, THAT ABOUT CONCLUDES THE MOST IMPRESSIVE FIGHT OF THE NIGHT–JUST LIKE TO TAKE THE OPPORTUNITY TO REMIND EVERYONE NOT TO FEED THE WILDLIFE! WE’VE ONLY GOT ONE EARTH, PEOPLE–GOTTA TAKE CARE OF HER! ANYWAYS…

As the MC continues to, well, MC, your favorite mutant raccoon picks up her prize triumphantly before skittering over to you!

“Welp,” Ly remarks as the critter begins the slow climb up your side, “Dat’s dat’, I guess.”

“T’was a rousing battle, t’was!” Andre remarks with an impressed nod!

Don’t be sad that it’s over, Ly–be happy it happened!” Suggests Nats as the furry bowling ball curls up on your shoulder.

“Now that’s what I call a food fight! Hah! Get it??” Laughs Talbot as your pet noisily gnaws on its prize right next to your ear! You’re welcome, by the way!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5356006
As if comprehending your passive-aggressiveness for the first time, the raccoon pauses mid-munch as she warily looks you in the eyes. With a faint, defeated sigh, she holds the piece of dirt and grass-covered pizza out in front of your mouth.

“You’re uh… you’re not gonna eat that, right?” Asks Talbot as a worried look forms on Kiki’s face.

“Lord help me…” Groans Ly.

What… what do you do??
>TAKE A BITE! IS THIS FRIENDSHIP?
>PUSH IT AWAY–THIS IS LIL’ STANLEY’S VICTORY!
>SCARF IT ALL DOWN! FREE ‘ZZA, DUDE!
>GIVE IT TO SOMEONE ELSE (KIKI? TALBOT? ANDRE?)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5356011
>TAKE A BITE! IS THIS FRIENDSHIP?

You know Stan has eaten worse.
>>
>>5356011
>TAKE A BITE! IS THIS FRIENDSHIP?
pizza is pizza
>>
>>5356011
>>TAKE A BITE! IS THIS FRIENDSHIP?
>>
>>5356011
>TAKE A BITE! IS THIS FRIENDSHIP?
I follow the majority.
>>
>>5356012
>>5356014
>>5356018
>>5356025
>WHY DID I EXPECT ANYTHING DIFFERENT?
Writing!
>>
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As you’re well-aware, actions speak louder than words. You’re also aware that you can’t really talk while eating, not without choking if past incidents have taught you anything! So really it’s best for everyone that rather than answer with a snarky comment you answer by taking a big piece of the pizza and really savor it.

These morons wouldn’t know ANIMAL FRIENDSHIP if it stuck a piece of FREE PIZZA in their faces! Really getting into the chewing process to prove your point, whatever it is, you ignore the concerned looks on your ‘friend’s’ faces and instead focus on Lil’ Stanley who watches you eat with a mixture of awe and, dare you say it? Friendliness?

Having been fed your piece, the greedy gremlin pulls the remaining slice away from you and continues to munch on it from the safety of your shoulder. Hell, she even leans against your neck! That’s trust! Also jeez, she’s like a fuzzy medicine ball!

“You’re CRAZY, Stan.” Talbot scoffs as Kiki takes a few steps away to take a breather. “Eating that crap…”

Is he seriously suggesting he wouldn’t do the same damn thing, you counter mid-chew!

“There was PINEAPPLE on it! Friggin’ GROSS!” He replies, shaking his head in disgust! Yea, well, you shrug, free ‘zza is free ‘zza, bitch! Don’t be jealous!

“We interrupting something here?”
“Bad time?”

Your head swivels on your neck like a gun turret in the direction of the deep, thick as honey pair of voices at your side to find two immaculately-dressed skeletons wearing pitch-black sunglasses and matching suits and ties!

“Kid’s havin’ a snack.”
“Late dinner, maybe.”

Nodding to each other as they practically DRIP with professionalism, both skeletons turn to look at you expectantly.

“Name’s Bones.”
“Name’s ALSO Bones.
“We’re with the Security Detail.
Cliff’s Security Detail.”
“The Security Detail formed by Cliff.”
“And for Cliff.”
“And everyone else.”
“And their security.”
“Right.”
Right.”

Tapping their earpieces in unison, the security goons continue in perfect monotone before you can wonder how they get those gizmos to stay on…
“The answer is tape.”
“Extra-strength.
“Heavy-duty.”

These guys sure seem to have it down!
“Yea,” Ly scoffs in a bemused tone, “real tightwads, alright!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5356049
“The boss says he’s ready for ya.”
“Boss meaning Cliff.”
“That was implied.”
“My mistake.”
“Apology accepted.”
Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Mention what?”
Exactly.”

Wait, you stammer, your brain still huffing trying to catch up, already?

Already.” Nods Bones.
“And from now on.” Adds Bones.
“No need to rush.”
“Haste makes waste.”
“Enjoy the party.”
“See the sights.”
“Try the treats.”
“And when you’re ready to talk,
“You know where to walk.”

The two glance once again in perfect sync over at the DRIVE-IN MAIN BUILDING off in the distance. Guess that’s where Cliff’s hanging out, huh?

“You guess correct.”
“A-Plus.”
“First Prize.”
“Winner, winner, chicken dinner.”
“Kid could be a fortune teller.
“I’d pay ta’ see it.”

Staring into your soul with their sunglasses-covered eyes, it dawns on you that the two are waiting for a decision to be made. Oh, right.

>YOU’LL HEAD OVER NOW, ACTUALLY!
>YOU’LL BE THERE SOON–YOU WANTED TO TALK TO SOME ARENA FOLKS FOR A BIT!
>YOU’LL GO EVENTUALLY–YOU WERE GONNA CHECK OUT ANOTHER PLACE FIRST!
>WAIT A SEC–I WANNA TALK TO YOU GUYS!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5356050

>YOU’LL HEAD OVER NOW, ACTUALLY!

Bones wouldn't timeskip us after we talk to Cliff would he?
>>
>>5356066
Nope, you're good! I just figured people might be getting tired of touring the party waiting for Cliff, so I'm giving y'all the option if things are starting to slow down.

If you meet up with Cliff you'll have time to do other stuff, don't worry! The big decision is when you wanna actively go to sleep.
>>
>>5356050
>YOU’LL HEAD OVER NOW, ACTUALLY!
Probably best to have the talk while we’re still sober anyway.
>>
>>5356050
>YOU’LL GO EVENTUALLY–YOU WERE GONNA CHECK OUT ANOTHER PLACE FIRST!
Let's grab a bite to eat! (HAULIE-PAULIE)
>>
>>5356066
>>5356081
>GO SEE CLIFF NOW!

>>5356101
>THE GROSS-ASS PIZZA DIDN'T DO IT FOR ME, SO...

Writing!
>>
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Still feeling the lingering, albeit weak effects of the last few drinks you’ve had clouding up your consciousness, you decide to take the skeletons up on their offer. Don’t wanna try talking shop with Cliff when you’re struggling to form words, right?

“You mean business as usual?”

Shut up, Ly. Relaying your choice to the bodyguards, the two suits turn around in, you guessed it, perfect unison and relay a few hushed words into their earpieces before looking your way once more.

“We’re cleared.”
“Cleared and ready.”
“Are you?

Yea, you nod as Lil’ Stanley leaps onto Talbot’s shoulders still munching on her prize, you’re ready! Turning to face Kiki, Talbot, Andre and The Marquis, you inform them that you’ll catch up later–preferably over drinks… and maybe some food...

“Give my regards to zee boss!” Andre nods as Kiki gives you a friendly wave.

“C’mon, Keek–let’s go shoot some stuff.” Talbot suggests, sending you a quick smirk.

Leaving the arena crew in your dust, you’re quickly and efficiently escorted through the throngs of partying skeletons towards the Drive-In you infiltrated a few days ago.

This time around, you quickly realize, is much different. As you and your escorts approach the back door, two similarly-dressed skeletons open it for you with almost choreographed timing! Ushered through like the VIP you are, you’re about to be taken upstairs when a familiar skeleton storms down the stairs grumbling angrily to himself!

“What a square, groundin’ me like dat’... wet ra-OOF!

Colliding with you at full stair-descending force, abject terror and regret flashes across his bony face as you tumble backwards down the spiral stairway! At least, that’s what would have happened had your two bodyguards not caught you!

“Talk about a close call.”
“Not close enough.”
“Not in the least...”

Hoisting you back into a standing position, you cross your arms and wait while Stripes stammers together a sentence!

“St-St-St-STAN! Holy cats, didn’t mean ta’ almost ice ya’, sis!”

Yea, well, you growl, what’s he doing flying down a dang staircase anyways? And why hasn’t he hugged you yet, huh!?

“Wha? Oh, shoot! What the heck am I doin’, huh?”

Ignoring your two escorts and the obvious perils of hugging on a staircase, Stripes brings you in close and forces a smile on his face! “The lady of the hour, huh? How’s it feel knowin’ ya’ made dis’ all possible?” A ponderous expression forms on his face. “Well, most of it possible. We did all da’ buildin’.”

Cementics!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5356308
Joining you on the journey up the rest of the stairs, the skelegreaser shoots you an interrogative glance as you stop in front of the office doors.

“Word to da’ wise, Stan: go easy on the guy, yea?”

You respond with a blink, then a frown. You’re gonna talk to the guy, not play him in CHESS or something!

“You know what I mean!” Stripes continues in what seems to be his attempt at an indoor voice, “Cliff’s stressed, Stan–real stressed.”

Yea? You ask with renewed interest. How stressed?

“Stressed enough ta’ ground my friggin’ helicopter rides for da’ rest of da’ party…” He grumbles with the expression of a fussy kid being told to get ready for bed. “No more helicopterin', Stan! Can you believe it!?”

NO, you roar in angry disbelief, you CAN’T! What the hell’s his problem, anyways?!

“Who the heck knows?” Groans Stripes as your escorts watch the conversation unfold with interest, “Said it would attract too much attention or somethin’... as if dis’ whole party weren’t attractive enough!”

Well don’t worry, you reply in a reassuring voice, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it! No one stops Stanley Parble from riding a helicopter, you shout at the office doors, NO ONE!

“Dat’s my girl.” Stripes nods with approval in his voice. “Say, I’m gonna hang with Haulie-Paulie for a while–come catch us downstairs when yer’ done doin’ all that leader crap, dig?”

Yea, you nod, you’ll see him there, probably!

Parting with a lazy wave behind him, the greaser heads down the stairs at a much more careful pace leaving you with your security detail and the doors leading into the office. Glancing at Bones and Bones for approval, you receive none and ultimately decide to just walk on in!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5356312
As you push the double doors open like you own the damn place, you’re greeted by much more than a shitty projector room this time around! Having patched up the hole in the wall created during your fight with Nico, Cliff seems to have taken a few creative liberties with the cramped room and turned it into an actual office!

“Stanley,” he observes from the comfort of a tall leather office chair behind a fancy wooden desk cluttered with enough papers to make a rainforest, “Been a while, kid.”

Squeezing a cigarette burned down to the filter into an already-clogged ashtray balanced precariously on his desk, Cliff wastes no time in retrieving a fresh one from a pack in his jean jacket pocket and lighting it. As he gestures to another leather, but far less impressive chair across from him, a thought crosses his face as he plucks another smoke out of his pocket and offers it to you.

D-do you take it?
>YEA! YOU COULD USE ONE, PROBABLY!
>SURE, BUT HOLD ONTO IT!
>NAH, YOU’VE GOT ENOUGH BAD HABITS!
>CUT TO THE CHASE: WHAT’S THIS ABOUT GROUNDING THE HELICOPTER?
>CUT TO THE CHASE: WHAT’S THE PLAN FOR TOMORROW?
>WHY’S HE ACTING LIKE A STRANGER? COME GET A HUG, DICK!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5356314
>>CUT TO THE CHASE: WHAT’S THE PLAN FOR TOMORROW?
>>WHY’S HE ACTING LIKE A STRANGER? COME GET A HUG, DICK!
>>
>>5356314
>NAH, YOU’VE GOT ENOUGH BAD HABITS!
>WHY’S HE ACTING LIKE A STRANGER? COME GET A HUG, DICK!

Sorry, fellas. Been busy.
>>
>>5356424
>>5356526
You know what? Let's just do all of 'em! Writing!
>>
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Rather than give your old pal a yes or a no, you instead cross your arms and look at him with growing impatience. Sensing something amiss, the weary-eyed skeleton sticks the cigarette back in the pack with a drawn-out sigh.

“What’s the matter, Stan?”

The matter, you growl as you stalk towards the desk like a mountain lion about to pounce, is that you haven’t seen his sorry denim-wearing ass for, like…

It’s gotta be three or four threads now!

“Waaaay more then dat’, cupcake.”

Who CARES, Ly? The point is, why the hell is he not LEAPING from his seat to get in on this hug action, hmm?!

Staring at you silently for a few moments, a faint smile slowly etches across Cliff’s face as he rises from his seat with the grace of an old man!

“Alright, alright… I see you’re still the one in charge…”

Damn right you are, you fire back with a few rapid snaps of your finger! Now get over here pronto!

Navigating the maze of reports and ledges he’s built up since you last ran into him, Cliff removes the lit cigarette from his mouth before opening his arms wide for a long-overdue hug! Practically tackling the greaser to the ground, your nostrils are filled with the acrid scent of tobacco, but you don’t really mind!

“Sorry, kid,” he apologizes as he pulls you into a tender embrace, “feels like this is the first time I’ve sat down in… a while[.”

Yea, you reply with a mischievous giggle, he looks like shit!

“Still better than you, freak.” He retorts, releasing you with a twinkle in his eye. “Cripes, Stan, did you get taller?”

Yep, you nod enthusiastically, and thinner! and CUTER, not that you had much room for improvement there! Placating you with a hollow chuckle, Cliff slumps back into his chair and motions to the one next to you. You take it, naturally.

“So…” he mutters like an estranged relative searching for a conversation topic, “I’m guessin’ you’ve been having fun tonight?”

Sure, you shrug, but you wanna talk about tomorrow.

“Yep,” groans Cliff as he leans back in his seat, “You an’ everybody else…”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5356646
Before you do, you interject, is he… is he cool? The greaser shoots you a sideways glance.

“C’mon, Stan, you know the answer to that.”

Ha-ha, smartass, you mean is he okay? He looks like you after a full shift!

“It’s uh…” he groans, rubbing the bone under his eye sockets, “It’s tough, Stan… keepin’ these nutjobs together, y’know?” Sending you an apologetic glance, the skeleton ruefully shakes his head. “If I’d known I was gonna be endin’ up babysittin’ this many boneheads, well…” he pauses to take a long, pensive drag from his smoke before blowing it towards the ceiling and away from you. “I’ve been managin’, kid, but… well, you remember what I told ya’ about leadership.”

Yea, you nod, you think you know a thing or two about that by now.

“Tomorrow’s a big day.” He explains as he glances upwards as if searching for an answer written on the office ceiling. “For a lotta’ reasons… and I ain’t gonna lie to myself and say everyone’s gonna make it.”

Then try, you bark as you slam your hand onto his desk! How’s he gonna lead if he’s focused on all the what-ifs, huh!?

“It’s not that simple, kid.” Cliff frowns, taking another drag from the cigarette. “We had radio silence from YOU-KNOW-WHO for days, then suddenly he wanted to rally the troops.” Anxiously drumming his fingers on his desk, the greaser looks to you with fear in his hollow eyes. “Something’s up. I can smell it.”

Yea, you nod as you glance around the office with him, you suspected something like that too… is that what all the extra security’s about?

“Figured it was high-time to invest in it, yea…” Cliff shrugs as he puffs some more smoke, “Just… don’t worry about me, Stan. One way or another, it ends tomorrow.”

Yea, you nod, one way or another…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5356647
Speaking of, you begin, what’s the plan tomorrow anyways? You heard some tidbits, but-

“Sounds about right…” Growls Cliff as he peers out the window with a disapproving frown. “Gossiping like a coop of friggin’ hens, those guys…” Reaching into his desk, the skeleton’s hand returns clutching a small, unmarked envelope. Pushing it across the table to you, the greaser motions for you to open it. “Plans are in there. Take a look.”

Taking the letter off the desk, you shoot Cliff a sideways glance. Seriously?

“Yep. Humor me, will ya?”

Okay, you shrug, a priest, a rabbi, and a member of congress walk into a ba-

“I mean trust me, smartass. Go on, it won’t bite ya’.”

I wouldn’t mind listening to it later, sis!

Putting the joke on hold for now, you oblige your old pal and free the letter from the envelope’s wicked clutches! Adjusting your sunglasses, you’re about to read it out loud when Cliff stops you.

“Read it to yourself, kid–too many eyes an’ ears around here.”

Heeding his advice, you take a look at what you’ve got…

Stan: didn’t trust myself or any of the other guys writing this, so I got a human agent to do it for me. Fed him info through ciphers and puzzles, so it should be clean. Don’t do what I TELL you to do–follow THIS NOTE ONLY! I can’t protect you anymore!

“If you and your pals leave a few hours before sunup, you should be able to creep into that building–you’ll find a way into CITY HALL through there.”

Glancing up from the letter, you respond with a quick ‘mhm’ as you continue to read.

“I mean it, Stan–you guys have to LEAVE before sunup.”

Stay in camp tonight–don’t leave no matter what. Someone will come to get you in the morning and we’ll smuggle you and your pals into the portal leading to the FORTRESS. Don’t talk to ANYONE about this plan. My agent will work the word ‘bowling ball’ and ‘mountain’ if you run into them tonight–you can trust them.

All you can do is utter a confused ‘what’ under your shaky breath.

“That building on that note will take you right under their nose, Stan.” Cliff nods. “As long as you follow that note then it should work out.”

Time’s running out, Stan. I can’t guarantee anything anymore. If we don’t make it out of this, stay strong and don’t ever lose that kindness that you’ve got inside ya’. I can speak for Stripes, Wyatt, and the rest when I say you’re like the kid sister we never had. Thanks for not killing us in that parking lot, kid–you made our unlives sweeter than our old ones.

Keep those fists up,
Cliff, A.K.A ‘Gene’.


>CONTD.
>>
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>>5356648
“So,” Cliff says as he clears his throat, “That’s uh… that’s the best I can do, kid.” He adds in a quiet, almost defeated tone. “You got all that? I gotta another meeting in a bit, so…” The greaser stares at you like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get.

“I’ll… I’ll catch ya’ later, Stan. I’m sorry…”

How do you respond before you’re escorted out? CHOOSE ONE.
>THANK HIM. FOR EVERYTHING.
>ONE MORE HUG.
>HOLD ON, YOU STILL HAVE STUFF TO SAY!
>TELL HIM EVERYTHING’S GONNA WORK OUT.
>JUST GIVE HIM ONE MORE SMILE.
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5356650
And on that cheerful note I'm going to call it for tonight. Got some errands to run in the morning, so updates will be sporadic tomorrow--probably around the afternoon and evening. Thanks as always, folks.
>>
>>5356650
>THANK HIM. FOR EVERYTHING.
>ONE MORE HUG.

Ooph. Figured something like this would go down. Gonna have to work fast tomorrow, hit the lich hard and fast.
>>
>>5356650
>THANK HIM. FOR EVERYTHING.
>ONE MORE HUG.

Dammit. This is the part where our face sweats, isn't it?
>>
>>5356650
>THANK HIM. FOR EVERYTHING.
>ONE MORE HUG.
>>
>>5356650
>THANK HIM. FOR EVERYTHING.
>ONE MORE HUG.
>>
>>5356650
>THANK HIM. FOR EVERYTHING.
>ONE MORE HUG.
Knowledge is power. Guard it well.
>>
>>5356650
>THANK HIM. FOR EVERYTHING.
>ONE MORE HUG.
>>
>>5356667
>>5356683
>>5356692
>>5356702
>>5356732
>>5356788
>THANK HIM FOR EVERYTHING
>ONE MORE HUG

Writing! Again, today's updates will be a little sporadic so bear with me, please!
>>
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You feel your eyes start to itch as Cliff gives you a forced, almost painful smile, so you run with the only strategy you can think of: rushing at him with arms outstretched, you leap over the greaser’s desk and tackle him out of his chair and onto the ground!

“ACK! Cripes, Stan, you-”

As your HAY FEVER starts to act up again, you bury your face into the skeleton’s denim-clad shoulder and hold it there even after he reluctantly holds you close.

“It’s okay, kid…” he murmurs as you struggle to get your damn allergies under control, “Everything’s… everything’s gonna be fine, dig?”

Shaking your head, you muster the strength to unbury yourself and lean in close to where his ear would have been when he was still alive.

Thank you, Cliff, you whisper in a shaky, hushed tone, for everything...

“Remember what I said about bein’ a leader, yea?” He asks as you stuff your face back into the damp, snotty corner of his jacket. “No matter what happens… or who you lose along the way… stay strong. If not for you, well…” The greaser’s soft voice trails off as both you and him crane your necks to look out the window at the festivities and revelers below.

“... then for the ones who are rootin’ for ya… dig?”

Y-yea, you stammer as the two of you slowly pick yourselves up from the floor now littered with papers, you…

You dig.

Brushing your shoulders clean of dust, Cliff holds them both for a second and gives you a long, hard stare before giving you another smile–this time a real one.

“Alright, one more look…”

As he leads you over to the window, your eyes are met with a scene you never thought you’d ever see, much less in CLEARWATER: a fairground stuffed to the brim with laughing, dancing, frolicking skeletons like the happiest anchovies you’ve ever seen! Some wear their army uniforms from countless time periods, some strut around in rancher and cowboy garb, many sport outrageous hairdos and tough-guy leather jackets, and some don’t seem to fit into any category at all. One thing unites them, though, and you can see it on all of them even without skin, muscles, or faces to show it:

“They’re havin’ the time of their lives, huh?” Cliff remarks with pride as he gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “They could all be gone tomorrow an’ they wouldn’t give a damn.”

But, you sniff, still dealing with your sudden allergic attack, but what about after tha-

“Life, Stanley, is meant ta’ be lived.” Cliff declares with absolute certainty in his voice. “You could live for a hundred years or maybe even a day, but even getting a small drop of that sweet, sweet freedom?”

The skeleton pauses to take a whiff of it.

“There ain’t no better gift this world can give us.”

You… you don’t… you don’t really get it…

“You will, kiddo.” Cliff sighs as you both continue watching. “Some day.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5357204
After what feels like a lifetime of watching the fun down below, the doors leading into the office swing open in unison revealing the two bodyguards who escorted you earlier.

… or are they just similarly-dressed?

“Sorry to interrupt.” Apologizes Bones in an all-business tone.
“Forgive the intrusion.” Adds Bones in an equally-businesslike manner.
“It’s time.
“Time to go.

“Gimme a sec, boys.” Cliff sighs, raising his hand at them before taking another drag from his miraculously still-lit cigarette, “An’ you too, Stan.”

Before you can ask, the greaser rummages around in his jacket pocket before finding something. Thanks, you mutter, but you really don’t wanna get addicted to smoking too-

Ignoring you, Cliff’s bony hand emerges from his jacket pocket with a familiar set of WOODEN DICE– their surfaces grubby from ages of being tossed on the pavement. Gently tossing them in his bony hand, your first skeleton pal deposits them into your mitts as if they belonged to you!

“Those got me through some hard times, even when I was still alive.” Muses Cliff as nostalgia slowly dips into his face. “Rocky gave me ‘em, ya’ know that? Goof whipped ‘em up in shop class for my eighteenth birthday.”

Closing your hand around the set of dice with his own hand, Cliff gives you one more reassuring pat on the back as he looks at you with pride in his eyes. “Take care of ‘em for me an’ the guys, will ya? Win yourself some pocket change.”

Thanks, Cliff, you repeat as the security goons usher you towards the door, you’re the best…

“I know, baby.” He replies in a soft, but joking voice as he turns to look out the window again. “I know.”

Closing the doors in perfect sync behind them, your escorts wordlessly take you back down the stairs and out the back door.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Enjoy the party.”

Shutting the door on your face, you linger in the alley behind the DRIVE-IN BUILDING for a while with the dice still in your hand.

“You uh…” Ly begins in a cautious voice, “You okay, kiddo?”

You respond with a halfhearted shrug as you stick the dice into your pockets. You… you just need a change of scenery, is all.

Yea…” Mutters Nats in a quiet, sympathetic tone, “Let’s get a little air, sis…

Having met with Cliff, the party still rages around you as you choose another place to drift off to:

>THE CONCESSION STAND! YOU NEED A DRINK! (STRIPES, HAULIE-PAULIE)
>THE GARAGE! WHAT’S HAPPENING OVER THERE? (WYATT T, GUS, RODHI, TEEVOR)
>LET’S SECURE A TRAILER FOR TONIGHT!
>THE ARENA! YOU’VE ALREADY BEEN THERE, BUT…
>SHOOTING RANGE! AGAIN, BEEN THERE, BUT…
>DANCE FLOOR! SEE ABOVE. ALREADY BEEN. YOU GET IT.
>JUST FIND A QUIET HILL FOR A LITTLE BIT–YOU NEED TO AIR OUT YOUR HEAD A LITTLE.
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5357207
>THE CONCESSION STAND! YOU NEED A DRINK! (STRIPES, HAULIE-PAULIE)
Being sober is for the birds. And the fish.
>>
>>5357207
>THE CONCESSION STAND! YOU NEED A DRINK! (STRIPES, HAULIE-PAULIE)

All in favor of getting so wasted we literally wake up in the liches fortress without knowing how we got there?
>>
Hey all, probably won't get around to updating tonight--plans are taking a lot longer than I anticipated. I also got a vote via Twitter voting for
>CLAIM BUNK FOR TONIGHT
So when I check in SUNDAY AROUND 3-4PM PST I'll be taking that vote under consideration too. Sorry for the few updates today, tomorrow might be a bit funky too, but it'll happen!
>>
>>5357207
>Burn the letter with your laser eye somewhere private
>THE CONCESSION STAND! YOU NEED A DRINK! (STRIPES, HAULIE-PAULIE)
>>
>>5357707
This is using the noggin. Add on that first part to >>5357319

>>5357602
I couldn't find that vote going on. Did you put it up yet, or did I miss it?
>>
>>5357847
Meant to say that someone voted on the current decision via Twitter--don't worry, no secret Twitter-Only prompts here! Got stuff going on this morning so I probably won't be able to write until 2-3ish PST, but I might fit in a small update in an hour or so. Watch the space!
>>
>>5357319
>>5357582
>>5357707
>>5357847
>TO THE CONCESSION STAND!
>BUT ALSO BURN THE NOTE!

Writing! This'll probably the only update for a while--might do more later in the day!
>>
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“... Stan?” Asks Ly as you silently linger in the back alley, “We uh… what are we doin’, kid?”

Just gimme a sec, you mutter as you retrieve CLIFF’S NOTE from your pocket. Giving the tobacco-scented paper one last stare, you wordlessly toss it into the air and vaporize it with a blast from your LASER EYE!

“We uh… we probably coulda’ eaten it or somethin’.” Observes your skeleton’s disembodied voice in a cautious tone. Yea, you shrug, watching the paper’s few remaining ashes scatter in the cold evening breeze. Your business complete, you find yourself moving on autopilot around the building towards the crowded shitshow that is the CONCESSION STAND. What was once a small counter inside the main building has now been extended outside and around like one of those poolside bars you see in all the vacation commercials.

Everything… everything’s gonna be fine tomorrow, right Ly?

“Well uh,” he stammers, taken off-guard by the sudden question, “I’m no fortune teller, kid, but…” He goes silent for a moment as you quietly await an answer. “... we’ve done okay so far, yea? Just gotta’ keep doin’ what we’re doin’.”

Yea!” Adds Nats in a supportive tone, “Just need to stay the course!

Right, you nod in an almost automatic voice, they’re right…

Pushing past line after line of thirsty skeletons, you overhear a familiar voice amidst the chaos around you:

“-ver HERE!”

Turning in the voice’s vague direction, you spot a familiar striped shirt and a smiling greaser attached to it waving you over to an empty seat next to him at the bar!

“You lost or somethin’, kid?” He laughs as you take a seat next to Stripes. “Don’t tell me yer’ sloshed already!”

No, you mutter, still collecting yourself as you scan the countless bottles behind the makeshift counter, you’re uh… you’re good.

“Atta’ girl!” Laughs the skeleton as he waves his hand in the air for service! “I tell ya, nowadays I need a stiff drink too after talkin’ to Cliff… management, sis–that stuff’ll kill ya.”

You respond with a noncommittal ‘mhm’. Seems like it…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5358045
As a bartender skeleton makes her way over, she’s intercepted by a pompadour’d blur–one that practically leaps over to you with a boisterous laugh you’d recognize anywhere!

“About damn time ya’ showed up, sis!” Announces Haulie-Paulie as he cleans a glass with a dishrag. “I kept tellin’ these freeloaders: how the hell is Stan gonna party without one of my PREMIUM DRINKS, huh?”

“You still cleanin’ that thing, Paul?” Stripes asks as Haulie-Paulie gives your shoulder a good-natured slap!

“Ha! Ain’t it great?” Laughs the bartender as he shows off the glass to both of you. “I feel like da’ real McCoy doin’ this! That Mayor from JOPLIN showed me how ta’ really sell it!”

As if on cue, another skeleton-shaped blur emerges from beneath the bar–one with an impeccably-polished stache’ and an old-timey bartender’s apron!

“Taught him everything I know… and it ain’t much!”

As Paulie and Mayor Ike break into laughter simultaneously, you turn to find Stripes giving you an apologetic glance.

“Yep, two peas in a damn pod, those two.”

No kidding.

“I’m tellin’ ya, guys, this shindig? It’s a hit!” Paulie croons as he watches the Mayor polish his glass out of the corner of his eye. “An’ it wouldn’t have been possible without this lil’ busybody right here!” He adds as he shoots you an appreciative wink!

“I’ll drink to that… or I would if I wasn’t on the clock!” Jokes Ike as he nudges Stripes in the ribs! “Oh wait! I’m tendin' bar!” Grabbing one of the bottles off the shelf behind him, the skeleton promptly lines up four shot glasses on the counter in front of you and fills them all with the amber-colored drink!

“Pour one for me, wouldja’, Ike?”

Turning towards the voice, you find yourself staring at an old man with a grey beard and a green hat slowly making his way through the crowd! Seeing him approach, the skeleton next to you politely relinquishes his seat and takes his drink with him back into the party!

“Cripes, Pete, I almost don’t want to!” The Mayor counters as the old man gives you a friendly smile. “You must have the bladder of a squirrel with how much you’ve been runnin’ off!”

“Just makin’ the rounds.” Pete shrugs as Paulie takes the bottle and pours him a shot too. “Helped one of Cliff’s boys set up a new keg–I swear it was like carryin’ a bag of bowling balls up a mountain!”

Well, well…” Remarks Nats. Yep, you heard it too…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5358048
“The hell are they thinkin’, having you lift stuff like dat’?” Stripes asks with a frown. “You point ‘em out to me an’ I’ll straighten ‘em out, Gramps.”

“I’ll be fine–I ain’t that old.” Laughs Pete as you all raise your shots in the air. “What are we drinkin’ to?”

“Who the hell cares?” Shrugs Paulie, prompting Ike to burst into his usual bellowing laughter. “Here’s to bein’ able ta drink! Happy?”

Works for you! Clinking your glass on the others, you empty its contents down your throat and let the burning liquid shake you back into reality.

GOD, you needed that…

“Uh oh, I think she liked dat’ one!” Paulie chuckles as he smiles at Ike.

“One of our in-house concoctions!” The mayortender explains, thumbing his suspenders with pride! “Joplin’s own whiskey–nearly did a jig when I found we still had some lyin’ around!”

“Thank god for that, huh?” Remarks Pete as he places the glass back on the counter and shakes his head around. “Got a kick to it…”

“You’re tellin’ me!” Stripes nods as he turns to look at you. “So Stan–you get Cliff to unground me back there?”

No, you reply with a defeated shake of your head, you uh… didn’t have much time to talk, really.

“Well shoot… at least you tried.” The skeleton sighs before turning his attention back to Ike and Paulie. “Jeez, guys, we’ve got two bartenders standin’ here an’ neither of ‘em has offered us a drink yet! Some service, huh?”

“Aahhhh cool yer’ jets, Marion. We was just about to.” Paulie snickers, prompting Stripes’ eyes to light up in anger!

“Then hurry up, damn it, or I’ll fix me up a drink in your hollowed-out skull!”

“Yea, sure, tough guy.” Paulie counters before turning your way. “But in case ya’ didn’t notice, we’ve got a VIP here in da’ establishment… an a lady ta’ boot, so she gets ta’ order first!”

Hey, yea, you mutter, warming up a bit at the mention of ‘VIP, you ARE! Fix me a drink, barkeep!

“Not so fast, hotshot:” Replies Paulie as he and Ike share a knowing glance, “I wanna try somethin’ first… been practicin’ slingin’ drinks, y’know.”

“Then practice more!” Stripes groans, “We’re dyin’ over here!”

“Smartass… look, Stan, just uh… just tell me what kinda’ drink you wanna try an’ I’ll surprise ya! Y’know, like somethin’ bitter, sweet, whatever!”

Well if he’s offering, gimme something…
DRINK STATUS: BASICALLY SOBER AGAIN :C
>BITTER!
>SWEET!
>SUNNY!
>SCARY!
>SAD!
>COOL!
>HARD!
>DARK!
>JUST GIVE ME A (BEER? COCKTAIL? SOMETHING ELSE?)
>WRITE-IN!

ALSO, WHO DO YOU CHAT UP WHILE YOU’RE WAITING?
>STRIPES!
>HAULIE-PAULIE!
>MAYOR IKE!
>PETE!
>LY AND/OR NATS!
>NO ONE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5358049
>SCARY!
>AND MAKE IT A DOUBLE!

>PETE!
>>
>>5358053
+1
>>
>>5358053
I'm down with this.

What has this Quest done to me? I nearly hit a raccoon on my way home from work and it's the first thing I think of.
>>
Sorry for the crazy delay, all--plans went a bit longer than I expected! Should have more for you MONDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST! Thanks for waiting and see you then, hopefully!

>>5358879
You'd better hope that wasn't Lil' Stanley--she'll find you, anon.
>>
>>5358049
>SWEET!

>PETE!
>>
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>>5358053
>>5358516
>>5358879
>SCARY! DOUBLE!
>TALK TO PETE!

>>5358956
>SWEET!
>BUT ALSO TALK TO PETE!

>TWITTER VOTE (DUE TO NET ISSUES:)
>HARD!
>STRIPES & HAULIE-PAULIE!

Looks like Pete and DOUBLE SCARY wins it! Writing!
>>
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A surprise, ey? Still recovering from the shot, you drum your fingers on the counter as you consider what to throw at budding bartender Haulie-Paulie.

“C’mon…” He adds pleadingly, “Gimme a tough one!”

In that case, you reply with a daring grin forming on your face, you want something… SCARY! And make it a DOUBLE!

“Da’ hell does that even mean?” Stripes remarks with visible confusion on his face.

Who cares?! I wanna try!” Adds Nats as you feel her presence shift around excitedly inside you!

“That, my boy, is for the bartender to decide!” Laughs Ike as he gives his ward a pat on the back! “Now remember, son, what do we say to an order like that, hm?”

“Errr, comin’ right up, doll!” Paulie exclaims with a cocky wink!

“Atta’ boy. Now use that head of yers.” Continues the mayor as Haulie-Paulie gets to work. While he slings bottles around, you take the opportunity to greet the only other human at the counter. Pete, you begin, the hell are you doing here?

“Ahhh, nothing too devious!” The old man replies with a light chuckle. “After the CLAYTON BLACK fiasco I thought I could use a change of scenery, so me n’ Ike here made the trip up to this here DRIVE-IN!

“You shoulda’ heard him!” Guffaws Ike as he watches Haulie out of the corner of his eye, “He was moanin’ like a polecat with a burr in its paw the whole dern way–lamentin’ how much the old place had changed, an-”

“Enough about that!” Growls Pete as a flustered look suddenly pops onto his face! “Anywho, met the ringleader and a few other folks almost immediately and we got on like a house on fire!”

“Pete’s been helping out around the camp ever since!” Stripes explains as Paulie pours whatever ingredients he used into a tumbler and gets to mixin’. “Not dat’ we need it, of course, but-”

“But nothin’. You boneheads keep forgettin’ I’m about as old as you’d be if you were still kickin’.” Pete scoffs as Paulie places your beverage in front of you with a triumphant ‘clink’!

“And there you have it, kid!” Paulie declares as you watch the pale drink in front of you expel an eerie, faint fog into the air about it! “I call dis’ one DA’ FUNKY PHANTOM! Give it a try!”

The meeting with Cliff still fresh in your head, you’ll take any opportunity to unwind a bit! Taking the chilly glass in your hand, you give your server a thankful nod before taking a healthy sip!

OH.

As the drink trickles down your parched throat, you’re jolted back to reality by a series of icy fingers running down your spine! Despite going down smooth like butter, the mysterious drink’s lingering aftertaste has you alert and upright! Wow, you remark as you cautiously glance around you, what… what was that?

“Sorry, kiddo, trade secret!” Paulie laughs as he and Ike share a conspiratorial wink!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5359338
A satisfied smile forms on your face as you bask in the giddy feeling the drink instills in you! It’s almost like being on a roller coaster!

“Yea, well, try to ta’ puke, yea?” Begs Ly as you notice Pete checking his pockets next to you with growing worry on his face!

“Ah hell,” the old man groans as he rises from his seat, “Lost my dern PILLS again–these large pockets, I swear…”

“That does it, ya’ old fart,” Stripes groans as Pete shoots you a sideways glance, “I’m duct-tapin’ ‘em to ya’. How many times are ya’ gonna lose those things?”

“Pretty sure I’ve got a few meds in back if ya’ need ‘em, pops!” Paulie adds helpfully!

“Not these ones–they’re nitroglycerin. Fer’ the ticker.” Pete chuckles as he gives his chest a gentle pat. “Stan, sweetheart, ya mind helpin’ an old man out with those young eyes of yers?”

Sure, you nod, you’ll give it a shot.

“Don’t worry, sis, I’ll hold yer’ seat for ya.” Stripes declares as you and Pete both rise from your stools. “Can’t promise the same for the old man, but-”

“Yea, yea, keep ‘em comin’...” Pete grumbles, waving Stripes’ joke off with his hand. As the two of you duck around the corner of the building (with your new drink in tow, of course), the old shuttle driver takes you to a secluded spot near a pile of old pallets.

“So,” he begins after giving the area a quick scan, “I’m guessin’ you met with Cliff?”

Yea, you nod, taking another sip to stave off the memory of his tormented face, you did.

“Can’t imagine how much all this is eatin’ away at him…” sighs the old man as he lowers himself onto a nearby pallet, “though honestly I can’t quite tell if the others are ignorant or just trying not to think about the whole thing.”

You shrug. How the heck are you supposed to deal with being raised and controlled by some crazy wizard anyways?

“Well Cliff’s got the right idea, I think…” Says Pete as he gives you a solemn look. “Truth is, he’s been giving me tasks since I met him–started off when I found a half-finished crossword puzzle on the ground after bein’ introduced for the first time… that’s when I knew he had me clocked.”

Raising an eyebrow his way, your curiosity is sated when Pete retrieves a weathered old book of puzzles from his back pocket. “Never had much work pilin’ up in JOPLIN,” he explains with a grin, “So I spent a lot of time puzzlin’. Didn’t think it’d get me into spycraft or whatever, but here we are!”

Yea, you respond with a growing smile on your face, Cliff picks up on that kind of stuff…

“He’s a good judge of character, I’ll give him that.” Nods Pete as he stares at you with pride. “But you already knew that, didn’t ya?”

“Well…”

Quiet, Ly!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5359339
“Anywho,” The old man continues, “I’m gonna assume you already got the instructions fer’ tomorrow.”

You nod as you give your forehead a few taps! All up in here!

“Great. Don’t worry about yer’ pals none–I’ve already found a couple an’ relayed the info.” Explains Pete in a placating tone. “I’ll get to the others before the night is over, so you just relax, y’hear?”

Way ahead of ya, you reply, taking another swig from your glass. MmM!

“One more thing:” Pete continues in a hushed voice as he motions you closer, “I stowed that HELICOPTER for ya.”

Wait a sec, you blink, that was him?

“Yep–had a pal who used to run a flight school out in the desert way back when.” Nods the old man with a mischievous glimmer in his eye! “Won’t be doin’ any air shows, but I know my way around a rotor or two!”

Cool, you sigh, but what’s that got to do with the plan tomorrow?

“It doesn’t.” Pete replies, “But from what I gathered from Cliff’s clues, he was adamant that you an’ yer’ pals have a backup plan in case, well, things go South tomorrow.”

Right, you nod, whatever that means.

“In any case, no one else can find it–made darn sure of that.” He continues with a hint of pride in his scratchy voice. “If ya’ head North of here there’s a patch of forest–plants get water from an old storm drainage ditch that runs through ‘er.”

Drainage ditch…” Nats intones as if inscribing into a notebook, “Gotcha!

“Follow it downhill and you’ll reach a derelict SERVICE SUBSTATION– probably used ta’ monitor water flow or somethin’ once upon a time, who knows.” Pete shrugs. “Anyways, there’s an old parking lot behind the building–a bit overgrown, but I put ‘er down there. Covered her with a tarp, too–can’t miss it.”

Cool, you nod appreciatively, but isn’t that, like, a little far?

“Had ta’ be.” The old man retorts in a matter-of-fact tone. “Birds like that are pretty loud, not to mention there are patrols all along the outside walls.” Fanning himself with his hat, Pete looks at you with a weary smile. “Took the wind outta’ me, but it oughta’ be a pleasant hike for you younger folk.” His grin hops back to neutral. “... not that you’ll need it, I hope.”

“Not bad, though!” Ly remarks as you thank Pete, “Between dis’ chopper an’ da’ VAN we oughta’ be set, huh?”

“If things go pear-shaped, I’ll try ta’ meet ya’ there.” The old man continues. “Otherwise, well… I may have given that Gus fella a few tips.”

Better him than Art or Eddie, you retort.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5359340
“Christ, look at me!” Pete groans as a short laugh escapes his mouth, “Listen, don’t forget the plan tomorrow, yea? An’ don’t even think of oversleepin’!”

Yea, yea, you huff, does it look like you’re overdoing it tonight!?

“Well good,” he nods after taking stock of your demeanor and coordination, “I don’t need to tell ya’ that a lot of people are countin’ on you kids.” Drumming his calloused hands against his shaky knees, Pete lets out a short breath before looking up at you again.

“Anything else you wanna go over? I’m guessin’ those fellas are beginning to wonder where we went.”

Good question, you reply as you finish off the remains of your FUNKY PHANTOM!
>WHAT DOES HE THINK WILL HAPPEN TOMORROW?
>WHAT’S HE GONNA DO DURING THIS WHOLE BATTLE?
>DID HE NOTICE ANY WEIRD BEHAVIOR FROM ANYONE ON OR OFF YOUR TEAM LATELY?
>HOW’S JOPLIN FARING THROUGH ALL THIS?
>NAH, LET’S GO! I NEED A REFILL!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5359343
>>WHAT DOES HE THINK WILL HAPPEN TOMORROW?
>>WHAT’S HE GONNA DO DURING THIS WHOLE BATTLE?
>>
>>5359364
+1
>>
>>5359364
>>5359465
>THOUGHTS ON TOMORROW?
>HIS ROLE?
Writing!
>>
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Since he’s an outsider, you begin, giving your now-empty glass a disappointed glare, how does he think tomorrow’s gonna play out anyways?

“Couldn’t really tell ya.” Shrugs Pete as he ponders your question to himself. “I think Cliff’s got the right idea having me run errands, though. Not that my back enjoys all the extra strain!”

Laughing uncomfortably at his half-joke, the old man continues after clearing his throat. “I haven’t seen their boss in ages–not since he appeared in JOPLIN when this all began… but from what I saw I can’t imagine the sick bastard not having a plan in mind for tomorrow–he’s too ruthless to just send troops and watch, y’know?”

“Riiight,” Ly remarks as you nod at Pete’s question, “Gramps’ deputy got deanimated way back when, didn’t he?”

“If Cliff’s gambit works out, though, those skeletons will hopefully spend tonight combing the buildings around the CITY HALL with a fine-tooth comb.” The old man suggests with a shrug. “They’ll be too busy trying to find that ‘secret passage’ to the portal!”

Wait a sec, you mutter as the icy finger of dread works its way down your spine, h-how does he know that!?

The old man meets your fear with impatient disbelief. “Because I wrote that note Cliff gave ya’, remember?”

Oh, you nod in a sheepish tone, you uh… you knew that. You were just catching Ly and Nats up to speed!

Gee, thanks, sis!
“She wasn’t, Nats. Don’t encourage her.”

“Assuming things go well,” Pete continues, “you and your friends will have a one-way ticket into that bastard’s fort. As long as you don’t end up deboned, you should be able to catch him by surprise.” As the two of you grin at the image forming in your heads, Pete’s the first to shake it off. “There’s bound to be plenty of opposition up there, but once Cliff and the others arrive you’ll be on an even playing field.”

Huh, you mutter as you go over the sequence in your head, just like that, huh?

“It has to go just like that.” The old man shrugs. “That PORTAL at CITY HALL is your best way in unless ya’ plan on flyin’... an’ you’ve seen those skies.”

“Yea, not my first pick.” Mutters Ly as you both glance up at the smoke-filled night sky.

“Hey, you kids got this far–the rest should be a piece of cake.” Says Pete as a reassuring smile forms on his weathered face. “Just don’t forget who’s rootin’ for ya’ down here.”

Yes, you reply with a matching smile, your adoring fans!

You feel Ly about to say something, but he catches himself. Atta’ boy!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5359506
Since we’re on the subject, you continue, what’s HE gonna be doing while you’re smashing heads?

“Hah! Well I sure as hell won’t be on the front lines, that’s fer’ damn sure!” Pete laughs! “I reckon I’ll help coordinate with those folks in that BUNKER--tucked safely away from the trouble, naturally.”

Yea, you scoff, nice and cozy and curled up with a mug of cocoa, right?

“Now there’s an idea…” Muses the old man as he runs his fingers through his beard in thought. “Heard from your pal Artie that those bunker folks will be standing by tomorrow for an attack on CITY HALL– they figure once the PORTAL to the FORTRESS is locked down things will get a whole lot easier.”

Art said that? Oh boy…

“Yep, heard it from someone called ‘Blumingkravs’ or somethin’ like that. I think he was security or something?”

Right, you shiver at the mention of Blumenkrantz’ almost-name. He’s definitely security… or something.

“Well anyways,” Pete concludes as if sharing his vacation itinerary with you, “that’s my plan so far. If you need a pilot, though, I’ll come find ya’ tomorrow.”

Right, you frown, if things get crazy.

“Knock on wood, kid.” He orders, rapping his knuckles on the pallet next to him.

Yea, you mutter, and uh… thanks, Pete. For everything.

“Hey, I help you guys, you save the day!” He laughs as the two of you get up and leave your meeting place. “Sounds like a win-win to me!”

Making your way back to the bar, you find your dermally-challenged friends engaged in a fierce debate where you last left them!

“It’d look ridiculous.” Asserts Paulie prompting a weary groan from Stripes!

“You already look ridiculous!” He counters!

“Better than you, ya’ spaz! So what, you’d just let it hang out all the time? Wigglin’? Come on, now!”

Hey, you stammer with a mix of fear and interest, what’s everyone talking about?

“Oh, sis! Perfect timin’!” Stripes exclaims excitedly, “Question: would you, or would you not, wanna be born wit’ a TAIL?”

“Listen to dis’ idiot…” Paulie groans as Ike leans in to take your order, “Or don’t. Save yer’ brain from rottin’.”

QUESTION 1: TAIL OR NO TAIL?!
>YES TAIL!
>NO TAIL!
>DEPENDS ON THE TAIL!
>I PLEAT THE FILTH!
>WRITE-IN!

QUESTION 2: WHAT NEXT?
>TALK TO STRIPES!
>HIT UP HAULIE-PAULIE!
>CHAT WITH IKE!
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE!
>WRITE-IN!

QUESTION 3: WHATCHA’ DRINKIN’ NOW?
>BEER!
>STRAIGHT LIQUOR (VODKA? WHISKEY? TEQUILA? SOMETHING ELSE?)
>COCKTAIL! (WHICH ONE?)
>YOU’RE GOOD!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5359508
>>YES TAIL!
We shall ascend to our Ubermensch-raccoon final form.

>TALK TO STRIPES!
>COCKTAIL! (the strong kind)
>>
>>5359513
This.
>>
>>5359513
>>5359508

Support! All hail our final form!
>>
>>5359513
+1
>>
>>5359530
>>5359532
>>5359535
>>5359513
>TAIL!
>STRIPES!
>STRONG COCKTAIL!
Writing!
>>
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Gimme something STRONG, Ike, you order with purpose in your tone, you wanna feel like you’ve been kicked in the damn face!

“I got just the thing!” Exclaims the mayortender as he eagerly starts to gather ingredients from the shelf behind him. Is that gunpowder?

As for the earlier question, you continue as Haulie Paulie hands Ike a welding torch, you’re a friggin’ idiot, Haulie-Paulie, not that you don’t love him to death, of course!

“S’all good, baby.” Paulie replies over the sound of something squealing behind the bar.

“Gotta go wit’ the tail, yea?” Repeats Stripes with renewed confidence. “Just think about it!”

Oh you are, you reply eagerly! If you had one of those poofy ones and could hang from trees or something-

“Wouldn’t happen ta’ be a ringed tail, would it?” Asks Ly in a smug tone. Watch it, dick!

“I’m right there with ya, sis.” Stripes nods as both Paulie and Ike grind something into your drink. “Cripes, if I had an’ extra thing ta’ hold onto tools with? I’d be cuttin’ my garage time in half!”

“I hear that!” Pete adds in a knowing voice! That settles it then, you conclude with an assured tone of voice, tails WIN!

“Since when was it a damn contest?” Groans Paulie as he squeezes a lime into the concoction behind the bar. “But alright, MAYbe I see yer’ guy’ses point.”

“Sounds like a win ta’ me, sis.” Stripes chuckles as the two of you exchange a high-five! “You guys find those pills, by the way?”

“Yup,” Interjects Pete with an apologetic look on his face, “Just glad no one stepped on the damn thing!”

“Here you are, my dear:” Ike announces as he drops a drink that practically spits fire at you upon hitting the counter, “I call this lil’ number the KICK IN THE HEAD!

Watching with awe as the fizzing red beverage hisses at you, you can almost pick up a few words!

Hey, I know that one!” Mutters Nats. “Ooh… yea, that’s uh… that’s a NASTY word, even for DEMONS…

Now we’re talkin’! Gratefully taking the glass in hand, you bring the caustic cocktail to your lips before glancing at Stripes. So, you begin, wh-AACK!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5359627
“You good, sis?” Asks Stripes.

Yea, you growl at the drop of KICK IN THE HEAD on your coveralls, damn thing spilled a bit! Irritation growing, you take a swig of the drink and immediately recoil–with APPROVAL!

“Not bad, right?” Asks Ike as you take another sip to be sure! Not bad at all, you remark as the booze kicks and punches your throat with almost spicy flavor the whole way down! Man, you’re gonna be awake all night at this rate!

“That’s the spirit, kid!” Stripes laughs as he takes a sip from his own drink. “And err, what were you gonna ask?”

Right, you nod, still reeling from the drink, you were gonna say…

>HOW’S HE FEEL ABOUT THIS WHOLE PARTY?
>ARE HE AND CLIFF COOL?
>WHAT’S HIS, UH... PLAN FOR TOMORROW?
>DID HE SEE ANY OF YOUR PALS AROUND?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5359629
>>HOW’S HE FEEL ABOUT THIS WHOLE PARTY?
>WHAT’S HIS, UH... PLAN FOR TOMORROW?

hopefully not rejoining TIM, of course.
>>
>>5359634
Dis 'un.
>>
>>5359634
support
>>
>>5359634
>>5359655
>>5359774
>Sorry, all, shit came up and now it's a little late on my end--I'll write up an update TUESDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST! Thanks again for playing!
>>
>>5359888
Check’d and g’night boss.
>>
>>5359629
>HOW’S HE FEEL ABOUT THIS WHOLE PARTY?
>ARE HE AND CLIFF COOL?
>WHAT’S HIS, UH... PLAN FOR TOMORROW?
>>
>>5359634
>>5359655
>>5359774
>HOW'S THE PARTAAAY?
>AAAND WHAT ABOUT TOMORROW, HM?

>>5359948
>SAME AS ABOVE BUT ALSO CLIFF

Writing!
>>
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How’s he feeling about the party so far?

Stripes stares at you for a long, awkward moment before spreading both arms wide as if he was trying to envelop the whole Drive-In in a massive hug!

“Look around ya’, Stan. LOOK!

Okay, OKAY, you groan, just quit shouting in my ear, dick!

“Yea, take it easy!” Pete reprimands with a disapproving look on his face.

“Alright, sorry!” Replies the skeleton in a placating tone, “Just makin’ a point, is all.”

He’s gonna blow your eardrums out doing that!

ANYWAYS,” Stripes continues, “I… I don’t even know if I can say anything ta’ describe how I feel, sis. Words just ain’t doin’ it justice, dig?”

“Yea, too bad ya’ never got dat’ far in school, huh?” Jokes Paulie earning a look that could turn a man to stone from the other greaser!

“Up yours, Paul. But if I had ta’ describe it, well…” He scrunches his face up for a few seconds before it lights up again! “Okay, best party I ever went to musta’ been… cripes, High School? Didn’t even start out as nothin’ big, yea? Coupla’ guys wanted ta’ hit da’ beachside–roast some weenies, drink some beers. Anyways, word got around an’ before ya’ know it the whole beach is filled to da’ brim with greasers! Slick hair as far as da’ eye can see, so many engines revvin’ ya’d think the whole place would split apart, an’ I even got ta’ park wit’ Danica Tricotta an-oh yea, yer’ a lady. Never mind dat’ last bit, sis.”

Yea, you mutter, taking another hefty swig to stave off the growing nausea from those last few words, you won’t mind!

“That right there was probably da’ best bash I ever been to.” Stripes concludes with a wistful sigh. “But this... Stan, I’m speechless! Just look at everyone!”

Gesturing to the chaos around you, you notice a group of buccaneers performing a kegstand while their soldier buddies cheer them on!

“I didn’t even know what da’ hell dat’ was until a few days ago, kid! If you’d gone back an’ told old, skin n’ bones Stripes he was gonna be partyin’ wit’ cowboys, soldiers, pirates, an’ future folk after dyin, well, he’d probably beat da’ crap outta’ ya!”

Pondering to himself for a moment, a sheepish shrug lifts Stripe’s shoulders up and down. “Ah who am I kiddin’? If it was you I’d probably try ta’ get yer’ number!”

“Finally… an’ honest statement!” Paulie laughs from behind the safety of the bar. “Dis’ creep would hit on anything as long as it wore a dress, Stan–count yourself lucky!”

“Or unLUCKY, dependin’ on da’ perspective!” Stripes laughs!

>CONTD.
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>>5360249
“Aahhh seriously though, kid: wouldn’t feel right–you’re more of a sis ta’ me, ya’ know? Granted, I didn’t look anything like dat’ when I was alive, bu-”

Stopping himself mid-sentence, Stripes abandons his joke and gives you an honest smile.

“Seriously though, Stan–thanks a bunch. Dis’ one right here? Dis’ bash takes da’ damn cake, an’ you an’ your pals did a damn good job helpin’ put it together.”

Damn right they did, you nod, taking another big swig from your beverage, and he’d best not forget it!

“Stan, you could crush me inta’ mulch an’ salt da’ remains an’ I’d never forget tonight, dig? NEVER!

Giving you a warm pat on the shoulder, the skeleton slowly shakes his head as if he still can’t believe it all.

“Just… thanks, alright? This is… it’s been great.”

“Better change da’ topic, sweetheart, unless you wanna see a grown skeleton cry...” Paulie snickers as he refreshes Stripes’ drink!

“Yea, laugh it up, punk!” Retorts Stripes as he downs half the glass in one go! “Can’t be thankful for one damn second around you jerks…”

So, you continue in a cautious tone, what’s uh… what’s his plan for-

“Tomorrow?” Stripes interrupts with a grave look on his face. “Cripes, Stan, you really wanna talk about that glum shit right now?”

You dunno, you groan, drinking indignantly from your glass, you just wanna know, is all!

“Well I have no clue what Cliff told ya’,” Sighs the skeleton as Pete shoots you a wary look, “but it ain’t gonna involve da’ damn chopper–told me one of da’ guys detected a problem in it or some baloney like that.”

Is… is that so?

“Yep. Just my luck, right?” Groans the skeleton as he drums his bony fingers against the glass. “So I guess I’m just goin’ along wit’ da’ rest of the troops.” Raising where his eyebrow used to be at you, the skeleton continues with interest: “Do you guys know what yer’ doin’? Cliff ain’t told me squat. Hey, if you need an extra gun-”

Yea, you stammer as you finally notice Pete’s hard look, you’re heading out ahead of time, like way before everyone else!

“Sucks ta’ be you!” Stripes chuckles as he takes another swig! “Well dang, sis, don’t forget ta’ get a little shuteye in then, yea? An’ careful wit’ those drinks–Paulie will poison ya’.”

“Up yours, Marion.”

“Call me dat’ again, Paul. I dare ya!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5360250
And, uh, you add, deftly putting Paulie and Stripes’ confrontation on hold for at least another minute or so, how are he and Cliff anyways? He sounded a little hot coming out of the office earlier!

“Sheesh, Stan, are you my mother or somethin’?” Stripes asks only half-jokingly. “Yer’ askin’ a lotta’ serious questions durin’ a party, ya know.”

“Let her, ya’ big oaf.” Groans Paulie as Ike gives him a look of approval. “Kid hasn’t seen ya’ in ages–only natural she’d check in witcha. An’ speakin’ of yer’ ma-”

“We’re… we’re good, alright?” Stripes huffs as Pete preemptively pulls the skeleton away from Paulie, “I just got a little pissed at him, is all, that’s da’ truth!”

Kay, you mutter as you pass the halfway mark of your KICK IN THE HEAD, but what does that mean?

“It means, well…” The skeleton begins, faltering halfway through the sentence, “It means that… look, Cliff’s been a ball of nerves for days now, alright? Used ta’ be you could drag him away from dat’ cruddy office of his an’ race around the Drive-In, but now? Now he’s just lurkin’ up there like a gargoyle or somethin’!”

“Maybe he’s just worried about tomorrow?” Pete suggests.

“Let’s get one thing straight here: we all are.” Interjects Paulie with a remarkably serious expression. “Everyone here bit da’ big one already, present company excluded, of course.”

Both you and Pete simultaneously knock on the wood counter for luck!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5360251
“Paulie’s right fer’ once.” Stripes nods. “None of us got any illusions about what’s gonna happen tomorrow, Stan–shit, for all I know I could take a nap tonight an’ never wake up if dat’ hooded jackass up there felt like it! You… you think I don’t CARE!?

Startled by Stripe’s change in tone, you can’t help but shrink in your seat a little bit as the skeleton angrily rises from his stool! “All of us assholes are here on borrowed time, Stan–I knew it the moment I woke up in a rotten pine box a few days ago an’ had ta’ claw my way out! I got no skin[, no heart, can barely go a minute wit’out fantasizin’ about tearin’ a human’s guts out… an’ just when I’m startin’ ta’ enjoy myself, some worthless sad-sack has ta’ RUIN it for me!”

“Take it easy, boy–she didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” Ike intervenes. Seeing the shock in your eyes, the anger on Stripes’ face immediately fades into regret.

“I… shit, I’m sorry, sis…” He mutters in a quiet, shaky voice. “I… didn’t mean it.”

Reaching out for your shoulder, the skeleton stops halfway and ultimately decides to slump into his stool and down the remainder of his drink. Cradling the glass for a few quiet moments, the greaser lets loose a long breath of air.

“... I’ll uh, I’ll apologize to Cliff tomorrow, Stan. You’re right. No sense in keepin’ grudges.”

Still shaken by the sudden outburst, you down your remaining drink and place the glass on the counter.

“S-so, uh…” Ike stammers with an uncomfortable laugh, “You want another, sweetheart?”

Q1: DO YOU?
>YEP.
>NAH, I’M GOOD.
>GIMME SOMETHING ELSE (BEER? STRAIGHT ALCOHOL? COCKTAIL? NON-ALCOHOLIC?)
>WRITE-IN.

Q2: WHAT’S NEXT?
>TALK TO HAULIE-PAULIE.
>SAY SOMETHING ELSE TO STRIPES.
>CHAT WITH IKE FOR A BIT.
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE (OPTIONS WILL BE PROVIDED IN CASE YOU FORGOT ANY!).
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5360255
>>>YEP.
Seems like a good moment for another. Add an extra shot in it and chug it in a single go!

>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE (OPTIONS WILL BE PROVIDED IN CASE YOU FORGOT ANY!).
Best let Stripes cool down-- think he needs it.
>>
>>5360287
this
>>
>>5360255
>YEP.
>TALK TO HAULIE-PAULIE.
Ask him how he managed to scrounge up so much inventory for his business so fast. That dude works quick.

>>5360287
I dunno. I don’t think the last possible meeting we might have with him should be us scurrying off after he snapped on us. Wouldn’t do much good for his morale. I say we try and get the party mood back.
>>
>>5360255
>NAH, I’M GOOD.
We don't want to be hungover tomorrow
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE (OPTIONS WILL BE PROVIDED IN CASE YOU FORGOT ANY!).
>>
>>5360315

Okay-- yeah I kind of agree with you there.
I just don't know what else we could possibly say to make Stripes feel better, so I'll leave that to a wordier reader and/or Bones!

Changing my Q2 vote to this >>5360315
>>
>>5360315
switching to this
>>
>>5360315
>>5360317
>>5360339
>ANOTHERRRR!
>ASK PAULIE WHERE HE COLLECTS HIS HAULIE!

>>5360316
>NAH!
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE!

Looks like Paulie wins it! Writing!
>>
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Yea, you nod, still recovering from the sudden mood whiplash, you’re good for another!

“You sure about dat’, kiddo?”

Yes Ly, just look at your DRINK STATUS!
DRINK STATUS: A LITTLE BUBBLY, BUT COULD BE BUBBLIER
SEE?!
“Yea, alright…”

“I’ll handle this one, son.” Ike informs his ward, Paulie. As you silently watch the mayortender go at it, a thought itches the edge of your brain! Say Paulie, you begin with renewed energy in your voice, where’d he get all of his stock anyways? Feels like he popped outta’ nowhere with all of that merch!

“Heh,” Stripes chuckles with a faint smirk forming on his previously-sullen face, “Can’t remember a time where Paulie wasn’t Haulie.”

“Surprised ya’ can remember that far back, ya’ big dope!” Jokes Haulie-Paulie, prompting Stripes to send a one-finger salute his way! “Well,” he begins as the tense atmosphere slowly dissipates, “Where do I begin…?”

How about with an answer to the damn question?!

“Keep yer’ coveralls on, kid, I’m gettin’ there!” Paulie chides as Ike places a fresh drink on the bar in front of you! “It all started when I was still a kid… pops was a salesman back then–one of those guys who’d sell ya’ anything that wasn’t nailed down, dig?”

Gotcha, you nod, so he was a thief!

“Wha?! Hell no, Stan! Jeez!” Scoffs the skeleton as he continues to polish his glass! “He was a travelin’ salesman–sold all kinds a junk to everyone: companies, stores, door-ta-door… kept a whole bunch a merch in his car when it wouldn’t fit in da’ house. For a while I almost thought the guy was Santa Claus with all the product that came through–it was somethin’ else, lemme tell ya.”

You ARE letting him tell ya! So what happened next?

“Well bein’ a salesman an’ all, things were pretty feast or famine, dig? Sometimes we lived like kings, others we were livin’ offa’ whatever was on sale. An’ expired.”

“Sounds familiar…” Stripes remarks with a sour look on his face.

“We was always bouncin’ around, so that’s why we ended up in a trailer–pretty handy too when dad had to do the long haul across the states. Sometimes he’d be gone for weeks–some nights he’d come home and pass out right in da’ doorway wit’ a drool-covered tie. Through good an’ bad, though, the guy loved that job ta’ death. Loved it!”

“I can imagine!” Ike remarks while Pete nods in assent. “Why, never really had the time to tour the other territories–to think folk would just wander like that for a livin’, well… I can’t rightly believe it!”

Yea… what if you had to pee?

“Then you’d stop, cupcake.”

In a roadside bathroom? NO WAY, JOSE!

>CONTD.
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>>5360411
A wistful smile plastered across his face, Paulie continues the story like a child telling a fairy tale. “I’ll never forget the first time he took me along… it was probably the second day of Spring Break in Fifth Grade… I’d spent the day down by the beach with a couple other guys from school lookin’ for sandcrabs–went ta’ bed more worn-out than that ratty ole’ shirt Stripes wears!”

“I’ll show you worn-out, you sonnova-”

“Cool it, man, I’m tellin’ a story here!” Paulie laughs! “Felt like I was only in bed for a second before I felt a hand on my shoulder–nearly popped my dad in the JAW I was so spooked!”

Yea, you nod, you do that too! This one time when Syb tried to wake you u-

SSSSH! I’m listening!” Nats chides!

“Pops had gotten his hands on some brand-new toy.” Continues Paulie in a conspiratorial tone. “A whole bunch, too! An’ he was dead-set on sellin’ em all, so he woke me up an he whispered in my ear: ‘Howdja’ like ta’ be my sales partner, Paul?’ An’ I was up an’ outta bed like a LIGHTIN’ BOLT!

You take a swig of your drink as Paulie mimics a bolt of lighting flying through the air! “We musta’ hit every toy store in the county that day–didn’t come home til’ the sun was dippin’ again!”

“So how’d it go, anyways?” Pete asks with renewed interest!

“Yea, well…” Paulie mutters, the energy slowly fading from his voice, “Turns out a lot of em’ already had deals wit’ the company that made ‘em. I remember one bald-headed jackass accusin’ my pops of stealin’ the stuff–I was barely twelve an’ I was set ta’ pop that guy in the mouth right then an’ there!”

So what happened?

“It was a long ride home.” Paulie sighs as if he was back in the car. “Dad didn’t say nothin’ the whole way–I was just a kid, but I knew he was embarrassed, y’know? The first time he takes his son out an’ totally bombs.”

A faint glimmer appears in the skeleton’s eye. “So when we got home, he just went to bed… didn’t talk ta’ ma, didn’t even take off his shoes or hat. Me? I grabbed the only box of toys I could carry an’ went ta’ toss it all in the damn river!”

Oh NO!

“Oh yea! Lookin’ back on it I know how stupid it was, but back then I could barely think straight I was so mad–why the hell couldn’t those toy stores buy them? It just didn’t make sense to me!”

Yea, you huff, they sound like real morons!

“Well wait until you hear what happened next!” Continues the skeleton with a wink!

>CONTD.
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>>5360413
“So there I was: box in my hands ready ta’ dump everything into the water, dig? Just when I’m about to chuck it all, I hear a kid from behind me shout: ‘hey, whatcha got there?’”

Oh crap, did he beat you up and take it all!?

“Ha! No way!” Replies Haulie-Paulie with pride in his voice! “Kid saw the first toy I was about ta’ throw an’ asked where I got it! So having watched my pa for the whole day, I put on my salesman voice an’ told him he could have it… for a DOLLAR!

“Awww jeez...” Pete groans as Paulie erupts in laughter!

“An’ wouldn’t ya know it? It WORKED! Kids were goin’ window ta’ window talkin’ about how some crazy bastard was sellin’ ‘Robo-Lord’ or whatever down by da’ river! Ya’ shoulda’ seen it, guys–kids were stampedin’ from all over town ta’ get a taste! When I ran out I led ‘em all back to my dad’s car an’ started sellin’ those… musta’ got through half the stock before my dad came rushin’ out!”

“Bet he was happy about that, huh?” Stripes remarks.

“Y’know what?” Paulie replies in a contemplative tone, “He was a little sore at first–mainly cuz’ I was bringin’ half the town over at night, but when he found out I’d sold half of the toys for a dollar each? A dollar?

The skeleton shakes his head with a nostalgic smile on his face. “He… he just laughed! Sat down right there on the lawn and lost it! Thought he was gonna throttle me until he brought me in for a hug!”

“Wait a sec…” Pete mutters in confusion next to you, “So yer’ sayin’ he was… fine?”

“He was PROUD!” Exclaims Haulie-Paulie! “He sent the kids back home, course, but as we watched ‘em go he gave me a pat on the shoulder an’ leaned in close an’ said: ‘that right there, Paul. That’s what you want in this line a’ work: happy customers.’”

Closing his eyes and grinning to himself, Haulie-Paulie shakes his head after a moment or so. “Then he told me my pricing could use a bit of work. HA!” Shrugging it off, the skeleton looks you in the eye. “Ever since then we were two peas in a pod--he introduced me to some of his suppliers an’ I sold it all off ta’ my friends. Eventually I found suppliers of my own, but my old man awakened something in me back then… like an’ itch I never scratched.”

“Cripes, Paul, she asked where you found all your stock, not your damn life story!” Smirks Stripes.

“Aaah, some stuff never changes.” Shrugs Paulie as if that answered your question. “Guys around here needed supplies–I knew where ta’ find ‘em. Granted, a lot of it don’t belong ta’ me, but a lot of it came from some old stashes an’ warehouses I invested in growin’ up, so… yea.”

“So it’s stolen.”

“Like you care, Stripes! You jacked my wheels back in Junior Year!”

“BORROWED!”

>CONTD.
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>>5360416
As the two slowly devolve into another lover’s quarrel, you deftly insert yourself between the two with another question! And, uh, you mutter, careful not to let slip about your most recent purchase from him, what about his, err, magic inventory?

“Oh, you me-I uh… yea, I know what ya’ mean!” Replies Paulie with a knowing nod! “Well like I said–a lot of that crap was just takin’ up space in my old warehouses, but funny thing–some of the stuff… well, it’s almost like it just appeared there.”

“What, like that comb ya’ sold me?” Asks Stripes with growing fear in his voice.

“No, dummy, I told ya’ dat’ was from Japan.” Groans Paulie. “Imported.”

So he doesn’t remember where some of it came from, huh?

“Nnnnot everything, no.” Shrugs the salesman behind the bar. “Some of ‘em, sure: I’d get some girl all wrapped up in a cloak, maybe, or some guy wearin’ a funny hat, but they never really made much of a fuss about it, an’ their money was always good.”

“So those duds of yers’...” Ly mutters as you shift a bit in your seat, “they coulda come from anywhere?”

You take another swig of your KICK IN THE HEAD and shrug. As long as it works, right?

“Haven’t had any complaints yet, so…” Paulie explains as his voice slowly trails off. “... unless they didn’t live long enough ta’ complain. Uh-oh.”

“Hey, you’ve got nothin’ ta’ worry about, sis!” Stripes intervenes, cheerfully slapping you on the shoulder! “Just don’t buy any weird crap from this con artist and yer’ fine!”

Y-yea, you laugh, tugging your EVENING SANITATION COORDINATOR CAP tighter to keep your BUNNY EARS hidden, all good!

Gulping down half of your drink, you can definitely attest that at long-last you’re finally feeling something--namely a lightness to your body along with a warm, bubbly feeling that makes you giddy! Giving your drink an appreciative nod, you take a moment to soak in the good vibes now that the atmosphere’s back to normal!
DRINK STATUS: BUBBLY!
WHAT NEXT?

>TALK TO IKE: JOPLIN’S MAYORTENDER!
>TELL STRIPES SOMETHING ELSE!
>HIT UP PAULIE A LITTLE LONGER!
>CHAT WITH PETE ONE MORE TIME!
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE (OPTIONS TO FOLLOW)!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5360417
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE (OPTIONS TO FOLLOW)!
Unless one of you other fellas has a better idea or a legitimate question to ask.
>>
>>5360417
>>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE (OPTIONS TO FOLLOW)!

>>5360489
I got nuffin
>>
>>5360417
>HEAD SOMEWHERE ELSE (OPTIONS TO FOLLOW)!
>>
>>5360489
If we head out, tell Ike to thank that barber for our sweet cut again.
>>
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>>5360489
>>5360515
>>5360518
>HEAD OUT!

Writing!
>>5360545
Wolf Cut Supremacy
>>
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With balance restored and a liquor-induced spring in your step, you polish off the remaining liquid in your glass before pushing off the bar and back to your rubber-booted feet. Welp, you say with an exultant sigh, it’s been something, fellas.

“It sure has!” Pete agrees with a sagely nod. “It sure has…”
“Here’s to the next one!” Stripes cheers, dumping his remaining drink down his nonexistent throat! “An’ everything after, kid!”
“I’ll drink to that!” Paulie chuckles as he shoots you a gold-tinted smile! “If I don’t see ya, Stan, give ‘em hell tomorrow!”
“Here–one for the road.” Ike adds, sliding a fresh glass filled to the brim with a vibrant, orange-hued beverage. “That’s its name, by the way-ONE FOR THE ROAD. Folk in JOPLIN say it brings good luck, particularly in traveling.”

Graciously taking the fresh drink, you take a quick sip and jitter with the sudden rush of energy–hitting your tongue with hints of fruit, honey, and a shitton of tequila, you feel ready to walk back into town! Expressing your approval with a spirited ‘MmmmMM!’, you tell Ike to give that barber your thanks again for this sweet hairdo he gave you!

“Hah! Ole’ Louie’s gone native campin’ here for the past few days, but if I see him I’ll be sure ta’ tell him!” Ike says with the usual low, rumbling laugh! “Take care out there, Stanley–yer’ always welcome in Joplin!”

Raising your glass to the mayortender and the rest of the barflies, you once again brave the throngs of skeletal party-goers charged up by your friend’s kind words and copious amounts of alcohol!

One thing’s for certain, sis: we’ve got a whole bunch of people rooting for us tomorrow!

Yea, you nod as you take another hearty sippy, an’ they’re all counting on you too…

“We’ll just do what we always do, right? No sweat!” Ly counters in a determined tone! “TIM ain’t gonna know what hit ‘em!”

Oh he will, you murmur as you pause to get your bearings, you’ll make damn sure he’ll know what hit him: YOU!

“Alright, settle down, tiger–save it for tomorrow.” Chides your skeleton like a doting mother. “Speakin’ of–we ready ta’ hit da’ sack? Did we miss anything?”

You’re pretty sure there were a few folks hanging out at the garage, you think aloud to yourself, but you did talk to a few of ‘em already… and now that the damn HELICOPTER RIDES are closed…

“Up to you, cupcake!” Ly relents with a good-natured sigh!

It’s YOUR night, sis!

Where to, then?
>CHECK OUT THE GARAGE! (GUS, TEEVOR, RODHI, WYATT)
>FIND A PLACE FOR THE NIGHT!
>REVISIT THE DANCE FLOOR REAL QUICK! (DENISE, MITZI, SYBIL, ART?)
>BACK TO THE SHOOTING RANGE! (TUCKER, EDDIE)
>HIT UP THE ARENA AGAIN! (KIKI, ANDRE)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5360578
>FIND A PLACE FOR THE NIGHT!
>>
>>5360578
>CHECK OUT THE GARAGE! (GUS, TEEVOR, RODHI, WYATT)
Just make a token appearance, tell them to wish us luck, and then we’ll hit the hay. Besides, this is probably the last time we’ll get the chance to casually meet with anybody.
>>
>>5360654
Actually, nevermind. Just go with
>FIND A PLACE FOR THE NIGHT!
>>
>>5360615
>>5360660
>>MY HEAD GREW HEAVY AND MY SIGHT GREW DIM--I HAD TO STOP FOR THE NIGHT
Writing!
>>
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Having already popped a wellspring of discussion out of Gus on the ride over and chatted up the Atlanteans and Wyatt, you set off in the direction of where you think the trailers were situated.

“Not a bad idea, kid…” Ly remarks as you trudge up the hill with drink in tow, “a little rest tonight will go a long way!”

Yea, you gathered! Cresting the hill, you find yourself overlooking a veritable village of trailers and RVs of all shapes and sizes–some already lit up with occupants.

OoH!” Nats exclaims in earnest, “They’re like little moving COTTAGES! Cute!

Yep, you nod, your uncle has one just like this out in the desert! Or he did until it got repossessed.

To your pleasant surprise, you still seem to have the pick of the proverbial litter–most of the trailers seem unoccupied, at least from where you’re standing!

“Da’ question is:” Continues your skeleton in earnest contemplation, “which one do we claim?”

One with a bed, DUH! And maybe a shower.

“Yea, I’m thinkin’ they’ve all got beds, smartass.”

Using your infallible FEMININE INTUITION, you quickly separate the trailers into a few categories!

CATEGORY 1 includes the mobile homes closest to the MAIN GATE. Though still a way’s away to thwart noise pollution from the road and the hot rods currently tearing it up, maybe being close to the exit could help tomorrow?

CATEGORY 2 is nestled in the middle of the hill. Though a bit further from the road and the walls, there seems to be more room between trailers–a happy medium!

CATEGORY 3 is nestled along the walls–though next to deep trenches lined with spikes to thwart invaders, these trailers seem to be reserved for the quieter crowd, or at least the few who would prefer more privacy. At the very least it’ll be easy to catch some Z’s up there.

As far as fanciness goes, the lodgings are all over the place–you could probably find a really ritzy one if you took the time to look, but it’s not like you’re gonna live here or anything!

After much deliberation (and sipping), you ultimately choose to:
>CHOOSE CATEGORY 1! A LITTLE NOISE AND LACK OF PRIVACY IS A FINE TRADE FOR A QUICK ROUTE OUTTA HERE!
>CHOOSE CATEGORY 2! BORING, BUT A FINE MIDDLE GROUND!
>CHOOSE CATEGORY 3! QUIET AND SEQUESTERED AWAY!


WHILE WE’RE AT IT, ROLL 1d100 TO SEE HOW DECENT YOUR CHOICE IS! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

BONEUS QUESTION: ANY AMENITIES YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN PARTICULAR? WRITE-EM IN!

>That’s it for tonight! I’ll pop back on WEDNESDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST! HOPE TO SEE YOU THEN!
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>5360779
>>CHOOSE CATEGORY 3! QUIET AND SEQUESTERED AWAY!
>>
>>5360779
>CHOOSE CATEGORY 3! QUIET AND SEQUESTERED AWAY!

We don't want the skeletons to see we're still here tomorrow
>>
>>5360818
roll!
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>5360779
>CHOOSE CATEGORY 3! QUIET AND SEQUESTERED AWAY!

As if any trailer could compare to our underground suite at the lodge. Unless nat 100, but that would piss me off for the waste of a good crit.
>>
>>5360818
Mf, please. You need to fucking save us, anon. If not him, somebody who has a good set of dice on them!
>>
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>5360779
>CHOOSE CATEGORY 3! QUIET AND SEQUESTERED AWAY!
>>
>>5360779
> BONEUS QUESTION: ANY AMENITIES YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN PARTICULAR? WRITE-EM IN!

How about a recharging dock for our Duck? Might need some good air support tomorrow. A giant cushy bed is also nice, and I wouldn't say no to a place to lay low and hide if it came down to it.
>>
>>5361012
YOOOOOO CLUTCH!
>>
>>5361012
You a real one.
>>5361135
>A giant cushy bed
This but make it a water bed with lava lamps and fur carpet in the room.
>>
>>5360781
>>5360818
>>5360828
>>5361012
>>5361135
>CATEGORY 3, BAYBEEEE
>HIGHEST QUALITY ROLL: 94!
>INCLUDED AMENITIES: REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUUUUUCK CHARGING PORT
>GIANT, CUSHY BED
>FUCKING LAVA LAMPS
>FUR CARPET
>BASE CALIFORNIA VALUE: $999,999,999,999 NOT INCLUDING UTILITIES!
Writing! Sorry, had some work training that popped up. Mentioned bone fractures, though, so I thought of you guys :3
>>
>>5361168
Whoops, it's a water bed too, you throwbacks
>>
>>5361189
>so I thought of you guys
jk love u too bones
>>
>>5361189
>>BASE CALIFORNIA VALUE: $999,999,999,999

Man, this made me laugh hard. Inflation, amirite?
>>
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Casting a disdainful glance at the mobile homes situated near the gate, you instead trudge purposefully towards the far end of the ad-hoc trailer park.

Gee, you really want your beauty sleep, huh?” Nats remarks as you pass by a group of cackling skeletons clad in police uniforms.

“Yea, really.” Ly adds with the usual judgment in his disembodied voice. “We’re preppin’ for DA’ FINAL BATTLE, not a STAYCATION, cup.”

Uhhhh, Earth to Ly, you growl before taking another steadying swig from your glass, the note said that they would come find you in the morning, not the other way around! So if everybody dies and the world ends tomorrow because they were too lazy to find you, that’s on THEM!

“Ah, I got it now. Yep, that’s a mature an’ well-adjusted way ta’ look at it.”

Thanks for your approval, you snarl, choking on your drink in the process. Shit, are these trailers gonna have a minibar, ya think?

Maybe we should focus on finding a good one first?” Suggests your trusty demon pal. Yea, fine, you groan, your feet are starting to hurt anyways!

Traipsing through a forest of RVs and trailers, your frustration grows as you notice most of them sporting paper name cards on the front doors–most of which you don’t recognize. Man, if Art snagged the good one…

And that’s when you see it. Nearly stumbling over your own feet in surprise, your eyes light up with glee as you find your winner! Tucked behind a small hill and spaced out just far away enough from the other trailers is a sleek, modern-styled RV spacious enough to fit, well, a bunch of people, probably! Half-staggering, half-running over to the door, a mischievous giggle escapes your lips as you find yourself staring at a blank nameplate. Bingo, bitches!

Scraping your name onto the plate with a BONE CLAW, you try the door and grin as it slowly swings open!

“Welp,” Ly sighs as you creep inside, “Let’s see what we got…”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5361233
After surviving a close call with the stairs leading into the damn thing, you flail at the wall like a cat trying to escape a bathtub and eventually find a light switch! Flipping it on, you nearly fall back out of the trailer again when your lodgings are illuminated: standing in a fully-stocked kitchen with granite counters (not that you really care) and a tall fridge humming in the corner, you find a cushy L-Shaped couch dominating what you assume to be the living room area to your left where a TV sits built into the wall next to a mess of cords–chargers, perhaps?

Several tinted windows give you a faint view of the exterior–or they would if not for the thick, sultry curtains drawn over them all. Private indeed, you say to no one in particular! Trotting past the fridge and the small door leading to what you assume is the bathroom, you avoid the temptation of scouring the fridge for more booze in favor of investigating what lies behind the door at the other end of the trailer!

Gently pushing it open, you subconsciously cover your eyes to keep them from leaping out of their sockets–while the rest of the mobile home remains relatively spartan in its design, the bedroom is something else entirely!

Past a closet sunken into the wall and a door that, upon further inspection, leads to a sleek, spotless shower sits a bed right out of history: placed atop a tiger-print rug sits a bed caked in comforters and blankets–the kind you’re already fantasizing about sinking into!

Flanked by two yellow, abstract end tables, the bed is illuminated by a pair of lava lamps that fill the bedroom with an eerie, almost alien glow as both cycle all the colors of the rainbow through the viscous globs of, well, LAVA inside them! Better be careful, huh?

“It’s not real lava, Stan.”

Shows what he knows! Taking a running start, you belly flop onto the bed like a kid and nearly get tossed off when the whole thing shifts and shakes like a big piece of jello!

Holy crap, you hiss as you hang on for dear life, is… is this a WATER BED!?

“SOMEone had a good time decoratin’.” Ly remarks as you gleefully roll around the bed like a pig in shit. “Kinda weird, but I guess if it’s da’ skeletons doin’ it…”

Rising into a sitting position when you remember you have a beverage, you take another sip as you take in your surroundings one more time. Shit, Ly, you mutter in lingering disbelief, this thing’s better than your apartment! And it’s a TRAILER!

“Yyyea? What’s yer’ point?”

What the hell are you still doing living in an apartment!?

“Well it’s not like we’ve got a car ta’ pull dis’ thing around with… not legally-owned, at least.”

Not yet, you answer with a mischievous laugh! Not YET!

“Take it easy.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5361236
Not the worst advice you’ve gotten from Ly, actually! Pleased with your choice, you hop off the bed with your drink in tow and dutifully lock the trailer door with a satisfying ‘CLICK!’ No one’s sneaking in tonight, that’s for damn sure!

Do… do you really think someone would do that?” Asks Nats with apprehension in her disembodied voice.

You dunno, you shrug as you finish your remaining beverage, there’s a lotta sickos out there… namely Art.

“Hope everyone else finds a place ta’ sleep.” Ly sighs as you idly open and close a few nearby cabinets. “It’s gonna be a short fight tomorrow if those other idiots are hungover…”

Hey, you’re their leader, not their damn babysitter, you counter as you move to the living room and sink into the couch! If they can’t take care of themselves by now, the-hey, is this DUCK compatible?!

Retrieving your trusty companion from your pockets, you take a moment to examine the REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK for any kind of charging port. It takes you a few tries, but you eventually find it within the duck’s beak, and sure enough there’s a cable amidst the Gordian Knot sitting in the living room that fits perfectly!

“Glad we’ve got power out here!” Remarks Ly as a quiet ‘quack’ comes from the duck’s mouth. “An’ no loud generators, either!”

Yep, you nod, it’ll do… for now!

Sinking deeper into the plush zebra-print couch, you contemplate what to do now that you’ve secured your lodgings for the night!

“Didn’t T say he’d come find ya’ later?” Ly asks as if just remembering. “Hope he didn’t pass out out there…”

Oh yea, he did, didn’t he? Guess that means he might show up in a bit, huh? Until then, though, what should you do?
>YOU JUST REALIZED YOU HAVEN’T EATEN ANYTHING ALL NIGHT. CHECK THE FRIDGE FOR SOMETHING TO EAT/DRINK?
>GRAB A QUICK SHOWER WHILE YOU CAN!
>SEE IF THE TV WORKS!
>YOU’RE PRETTY SURE THERE WAS A CHAIR OR TWO OUTSIDE–GO TAKE A LOOK!
>JUST FAFF AROUND UNTIL TALBOT SHOWS UP!
>JUMP ON THE BED FOR A BIT! GET THAT EXCESS ENERGY OUT!
>HUH, WOULDN’T IT BE WEIRD IF SOMEONE ELSE VISITED? (WHO?)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5361237
>>YOU JUST REALIZED YOU HAVEN’T EATEN ANYTHING ALL NIGHT. CHECK THE FRIDGE FOR SOMETHING TO EAT/DRINK?
Let's see if these greasers kept the fridge nice and stocked for us.

>JUMP ON THE BED FOR A BIT! GET THAT EXCESS ENERGY OUT!
Not too much cause we don't wanna sleep in a puddle.

>JUST FAFF AROUND UNTIL TALBOT SHOWS UP!
Talbot will show up eventually.
>>
>>5361237
>GRAB A QUICK SHOWER WHILE YOU CAN!
>YOU JUST REALIZED YOU HAVEN’T EATEN ANYTHING ALL NIGHT. CHECK THE FRIDGE FOR SOMETHING TO EAT/DRINK?

Take a quick shower and hope the fridge is stocked with some good stuff. We probably smell like sea-water and floor-pizza. And cinnamon. Wonder if Little Stanley is gonna come along with Talbot. She was with him last we saw.
>>
>>5361237
If it’s been a while and nobody else has voted, switch me to >>5361240
>>
>>5361240
>>5361245
>FOOD!
>JUMP ON THE BED!
>DICK AROUND!
It has INDEED been a while, so let's roll with these! Writing!
>>
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You spare a passing glance in the direction of where you last saw the shower and shake your head–as welcome as it sounds to wash the seawater and stale pizza scent off, the last thing you need is for Talbot to barge in like the stupid bulldozer he is while you’re freshining up. Pausing to take a polite whiff of yourself, your nostrils only manage to pick up the sugary-sweet scent of your apparently permanent cinnamon sugar scent.

Can’t get enough of it!

Right, demons really dig it, apparently. As you contemplate your options, your stomach sees fit to nudge you in the right direction with a low, drawn-out grumble.

“... yea, message from DIGESTION, kid! Lessee here… ‘put somethin’ other than booze into yer’ cakehole, alkie!’ Huh. Their words, not mine!”

Booze has nutrients in it, you shout! At least, that’s what you would do if you didn’t feel so woozy right now! Shaking the sensation off, you decide to make a beeline for your new fridge in search of something that isn’t liquid to stave off those hangries you always suffer from! You can’t help but shiver a bit as the frigid air from the fridge mixes with the trailer’s already-cold atmosphere, but you quickly recover when you see what’s inside!

No, Stan. We don’t need any more of that.”

Killjoy! Leaving the bottle of VODKA where it sits inside the fridge, your stomach rumbles in protest as you slowly realize the fridge is emptier than Talbot’s brain!

“Guess skeletons don’t need much ta’ eat, huh?” Sighs Ly as you get to work looking the cupboards! Stupid skeletons, you grumble, temper growing from lack of food, didn’t they know you were coming!?

“Not ta’ dis’ trailer, clearly.” Shrugs your skeleton as your search finally bears fruit! Yanking a cabinet nearly off its hinges with the force of a hungry, rabid animal, you find your salvation in the form of a sole box of CINNA-SMACKS CEREAL! Retrieving it from its dark prison, you give the cardboard container a few shakes and smile at the sound of over half the box shaking around inside! That’ll do!

“Not like we eat anything healthier at home…” Grumbles your skeleton as you scurry off to the bed and start shoveling handfuls of cinnamon-coated squares into your mouth! Tearing into the cereal as if it were your last meal, you subconsciously start jumping up and down on the bed as the sudden burst of sugar hits you like a diabetes-inducing truck!

“Cripes, just try not ta’ break anything, will ya?” Chides Ly as you start to gain some serious air! “Wow, though, you get a lotta’ height offa’ dat’ thing…”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5361348
After an inordinate amount of time later, you find yourself face-down in a pile of spilled-over cereal, drool-covered blankets, and beaten-up pillows on the floor.

“Oh good, yer’ alive.” Ly observes as you shake off the faint buzzing in your head. Wha… what happened? How long were we out?

“It’s mornin’, kid.” Ly explains in a solemn voice that sends your hair standing on end! W-WHAT?!

“Nah, just messin’ witcha.” He replies with a chuckle. “Ya’ got real hyper an’ smacked yer’ head against da’ ceilin’.” Glancing up above the bed, you find yourself staring at a head-shaped divot poking upwards through the ceiling. At least you didn’t bust through it!

“Looks like yer’ fine, but dat’ might hurt da’ resale value, huh?”

Before you can respond, your train of thought is derailed by a series of heavy knocks on your door! Gathering a handful of blankets to hide behind, you stare wide-eyed through the open bedroom door towards the front entrance! Wh-who could that be?!

“Stan, open the hell up!” Grumbles a familiar irritated voice! “I’m carrying a bunch of shit here!”

Oh, it’s just Talbot, you remark with a sigh of mild relief. Wiping the singular bead of nervous sweat off of your brow, you take a moment to adjust your WOLF CUT HAIR before heading towards the door. Wait, you mutter, prompting your visitor to mash on the door with increasing anger, how do I look, guys?

Not gonna lie, sis: you look CUTE!” Replies Nats like the wonderful, smart, and beautiful creature she is!
“Why the hell do you care anyways? Let the poor bastard in, Stan.”

Thanks, Ly. Brushing him off, you fiddle with the door locks for a minute before pushing the door open!

“Watch it, DICK!” Grunts Talbot as he barely avoids getting his face mashed by the door! “Took your damn time, Stan!”

Uh-huh, you mutter, focusing instead on the cardboard tray balanced precariously in his hands carrying two steaming-hot burgers and fries! Whatja get me?

“It’s a burger, duh.” Retorts your fellow janitor as he tries and fails to squeeze around you into the trailer. “You mind movin’? I’ve already dropped this crap, like, three times now!”

Making yourself scarce, you watch as Talbot steps into the mobile home and lets out a low whistle. “Jeez, you hit the motherlode, huh?”

Yea, you shrug as you watch him deposit the trays and a six-pack of beer onto the counter, Jealous?

“Eeh, it’s alright I guess.” He shrugs, cracking open a beer and tossing it over to you. “Mine’s got a go-kart track outside, so… eh.”

Wait, you mutter with wide-eyes, really?!

“Nah.” Smirks the janitor as he fetches a beer of his own, “That’d be pretty neat though, huh?”

Yes, you reply with a solemn nod, yes it would…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5361350
“So,” Talbot continues as he transports the food to the living room while you lock the door behind him, “Thought you could use a little chow w-woah, is that the REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK?

That’s right, bitch! You reply with pride in your voice! But back to the point: what took him so long anyways? You thought he had that creepy STAN-TRACKER instinct or whatever!

“Course I do!” He fires back as he stretches his legs out onto a zebra print ottoman, “There were just a bunch of nameplates with ‘Stan’ on ‘em! Took me a bit!”

Yea, you scoff as you slump into the couch next to him, you noticed! Snatching up one of the burgers like a starving raccoon, you take a chunk out of the food and shiver with delight as you feel your energy slowly return! Man, party food is the BEST!

“I know, right?” Smiles Talbot as he takes his own burger and tears into it. “Shrphshd yrh light mr rrn t-”

Swallow first, you dingus! Reluctantly taking your suggestion, your ex-bodyguard finishes his bite before repeating the sentence.

“Surprised you let me in this late–figured you’d be with the girls or somethin’.” He observes.

You figured he’d be with the dudes, you retort, pointing your burger at him accusingly, but then again he was being all WEIRD when you asked him about tomorrow, so who knows?!

“Just figured you’d wanna talk about it somewhere else, is all.” Talbot shrugs as he takes another bite. “Got food outta’ it, so no skin off my butt!”

Yea, you say with a reluctant shrug, the food definitely helps!

“Ya’ know it’s totally a bribe, right?”

Yes, Ly, and it worked, okay? It worked!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5361351
So, you begin after positively DECIMATING that burger, let’s rewind a bit: how’s he feeling about tomorrow, hm? Staring at you as he takes a long sip from his beer, your fellow janitor lets out a satisfied ‘aaah’ before answering your question. TODAY, asshole!

“Keep your pants on, I’m gettin’ there!” He replies with a frown! “Besides, you already know how I feel about it!”

Humor me, you say, matching his frown with one of your own.

“Alright… a priest, a rabbi, and a mem-”

You already know that one, you interject!

“It’s a good one though, right?” Talbot asks with a goofy grin.

Oh definitely, you nod, but you meant, like… how’s he feeling about tomorrow anyways?

“How do you think?” He replies, expression immediately darkening from the question. You dunno–that’s why you asked, dumbas-

“It was ‘ratortional, smartass.” Groans Talbot as he gives you a long stare. “I mean, yea: I’m a little worried–some of the other guys were pretty tough, yea, but TIM... I can still almost feel him, y’know? How do we know he won’t just, like, make our heads explode the minute we square up with him?”

You ran into the guy before, you explain, and while it remains one of the most horrifying experiences in your short and very sexy life, you’re pretty sure he’s kind of a… well, a doofus.

Upon hearing your tactical analysis, Talbot spews beer all over the room as he bursts into laughter! Watch the furniture, moron!

“Heh… oh… oh man…” He wheezes, struggling to regain his breath while simultaneously sipping his beer, “He… he kinda is, huh? I mean… we’ve gotten this far!”

Yea, you smile with an emphatic nod, and, like, the first time you encountered him he couldn’t even debone you or anything! What a chump!

“Yea… yea, he is a chump, isn’t he?” Talbot remarks as if it had just dawned on him. “Well shit…” Trailing off mid-sentence, the janitor turns to look at you with renewed seriousness in his eyes.

“But what about you, huh?” He asks, prompting you to raise your eyebrow in confusion. Hm? “I mean… you’ve been talkin’ to everyone on the team all night, right? But when’s the last time anyone asked you how you’re doing?”

Well, uh, you mutter, Nats probably asked…

“Look, I’m gonna try to be less of a dick tonight since this might be the last chance we have to talk for a while.” He continues in a soft tone. “So c’mon–how are you really feeling about all this?”

For the first time in a while, you suspect that Talbot might actually be taking this seriously… if that’s the case, well…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5361353
HOW DO YOU RESPOND, HM?
DRINK STATUS: TIPSYYYY!

>YOU’RE FINE! REALLY!
>YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT THE OTHERS.
>YOU’RE CONFUSED. THIS WHOLE SITUATION MAKES YOUR HEAD HURT.
>YOU’RE SCARED, ACTUALLY.
>YOU’RE PISSED OFF! THIS STUFF IS DRIVING YOU NUTS!
>DEFLECT! YOU FIRST!
>YOU DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT THIS, ACTUALLY!
>DRINK BEER UNTIL HE ABANDONS THE QUESTION!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5361354
>>DEFLECT! YOU FIRST!
>>
>>5361354
>YOU’RE CONFUSED. THIS WHOLE SITUATION MAKES YOUR HEAD HURT.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>5361360
>>5361379
A bit slow today, huh? Gonna just roll for it to keep things going--it's not like this is a life-or-death choice, after all!

>1: DEFLECT!
>2: CONFUSED :C

Writing the result!
>>
>>5361354
>YOU’RE SCARED, ACTUALLY.
>>
>>5361428
>>5361425
Too little, too late. Whatever, though. I’m fine with confused.
>>
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Well, you repeat as you scour your limited vocabulary for the proper words to describe your, uh… now thinks... you’re just… if you had to put your finger on it…

NRGH! Downing the rest of your beer and crunching the can in your hand with an exasperated roar, you place its remains on the bright yellow coffee table in front of you as Talbot cracks and hands you a fresh beer. Thanks, you mumble.

With a steading breath, you start by saying that, well, you’re CONFUSED, mostly! Totally, completely, constantly CONFUSED!

“I hear that.” Nods your fellow janitor as he shoots you a sympathetic glance while sipping his beer.

Like, taking down those LIEUTENANTS and smashing heads? That’s easy, you snarl! But everything else–like those murdered ex-cult members? That traitor or whatever at Good Boy? Boris and his stupidCHOSEN ONE MASK? And that doesn’t even begin to cover why a dog bone company has a TOP SECRET RESEARCH LAB in the woods and enough military hardware to invade a small country!

“One thing’s been bothering me too:” Talbot adds, matching your frown with one of his own, “how the hell did some old-ass wizard even get to CLEARWATER anyways? Like, why not somewhere bigger or cooler?

You don’t appreciate him interrupting you, but yea, that’s a good point too! You get that a skeleton would form at Good Boy because of all the bones and stuff, but still–that’s a big coinpudence!

“So uh…” Grunts Talbot, “Got any… got any ideas?”

You respond by giving him an irritated glare! No, stupid, that’s the whole point! You’re not… you don’t know how to properly figure out the things in some… some times, okay?!

“I mean, I get i-”

You’re not SMART like Syb, you continue with growing anger, you’re not COOL-HEADED like Mitz, and you’re just… you’re tired of not knowing stuff! It SUCKS!

It takes you a moment to realize you’re out of breath. Catching yourself, it takes you another moment to feel the large, but gentle hand trying to get away with patting you on the shoulder without being weird about it! Sensing he’s been detected, Talbot immediately retracts his hand and messily clears his throat!

“Y-yea, well uh…” He stammers, sipping his beer to space things out a little, “you… you don’t gotta be like those guys, Stan.”

Oh yea? Why’s that, huh?

“Well I mean…” Talbot continues, clearly sensing some kind of minefield reflected in your scowling face, “You… you’re the leader, right?”

Right, you scoff, you’re the big, brave leader of the bunch–just making stupid choices while everyone else comes up with them for you!

“Yea, but-”

But WHAT, HUH!?

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5361482
Anger rises up through your body as you find yourself subconsciously standing up from the couch.
T-take it easy, Stan-
No, you snarl, you WON’T! You’ve spent almost a week trying to stop this crap, but you still have basically no idea what caused it! How do you know it won’t just happen again, huh?! Is someone gonna set up a bunch of neat and tidy decisions for you then!?

Talbot doesn’t respond as he watches you speak.

A-and what happens after that, huh?! Where’s everyone going to go once this is all over?! Are you ever gonna see Syb again now that’s she’s got her… her stupid BOYFRIEND!? Will the film students just fuck off with your story!? How… how are you gonna take care of stuff once they’re all gone? You don’t know how to fix this LICH SHIT–you only know how to beat the crap out of it!

Chucking your beer at the wall, you watch its remaining contents spill onto the floor as you feel your heart pounding like a drum in your heaving chest. You’re not a real leader, you spit, not really.

“Stan-”

Shut UP, Talbot, you snarl as you raise a trembling hand behind you! Just… stuff only makes sense because someone ELSE told you so–that doesn’t make you a leader, you sniff, it just makes you a good… directions… follower.

Taking the first breath you’ve taken in what feels like a minute, you find yourself gasping as you brace yourself against the wall of the trailer. Smashing your other fist against it, the words ‘damn it’ quietly escape your lips as you linger there for a while with your anger still burning up your head.

Until, that is, you feel a presence lingering behind you. Shaking the fuzz from your eyes, you turn to find yourself staring at Talbot’s broad, stupid chest… just before its owner brings you in for a hug.

“I’m sorry, Stan…” He whispers as you linger close to him, “I can’t say I know exactly what you’re going through, but… but it sucks.”

Looking up at his face with misty vision, you find your old would-be murderer staring down at you with a sympathetic, and almost proud glimmer in his eyes.

“But I know one thing for sure: no one, an’ I mean no one, is leaving you behind.”

Absorbing his words, you respond by shaking your head despondently as a hollow laugh escapes your throat. How… how do you know that for sure, huh? St-stupid…

“Because I ain’t leaving!” He answers, as if that somehow solves everything. “And… and I’ll kick everyone else’s ass if they try to ditch ya!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5361484
Maybe it’s the unorthodox solution to the problem or maybe it’s just how cocksure he sounded saying it, but something about Talbot’s words send a tickle through your body–one that makes you erupt in laughter that doesn’t stop even after confusion spreads on your ex-bodyguard’s face!

“H-hey, I mean it!” He sputters as you press yourself against him so that you don’t fall over laughing, “Those idiots are chumps! G-get ‘em all over here right now–I’ll knock ‘em on their asses one by one! Hell, I’ll take ‘em on at the same time!”

It’s no use–the more he tries to convince you, the more you laugh. Gasping for breath, you give the big oaf the best smile you can form while your chest aches from the laughter–h-he… he’d get his… his ass kicked…

“Are you kidding me!? Who’s on my level, huh? Answer me seriously, Stan!” He roars in disbelief! “Look, Gus might be big, but I’ve been practicing, alright? And Kiki? You saw what I did in the arena! Syb’s got magic, but she’s like a pale noodle up close, and Mitz? ‘OoOH, I’m SoOOoO COOL! I ReEAD MAgAZiINES!’”

Giving Talbot a playful jab to the chest, you blink the remaining bits of moisture away from your eyes as your laughing fit slowly but surely dies down. D-damn HAY FEVER, m-man…

“You feeling better now that you’ve called me a wuss?” Talbot growls, pride still wounded yet the hug still intact. “You’re a real piece of work, y’know that?”

Yea, well, you wheeze, still regaining your breath, so is he...

Still standing awkwardly in each other’s embrace, the two of you exchange bewildered glances as neither one of you says or does anything further.

“So uh…” Talbot mutters, frozen in place, “that was, uh… some good food…”

Even Ly and Nats are eerily refraining from making snide remarks… looks like you get to lead again–wherever you’re going, that is.

How do you navigate this situation?
>QUICK! ASK TALBOT SOMETHING ELSE!
>HE’S A MAN–LET HIM TAKE SOME DAMN INITIATIVE FOR A CHANGE! YOU CHOOSE CRAP ALL THE TIME!
>ESCAPE! THERE’S STILL FRIES AND BEER ON THE COFFEE TABLE! GET ‘EM!
>YOU’RE ALREADY HUGGING, SO… WHAT’S WRONG WITH A KISS OR TWO?
>IT SUCKS, BUT TELL HIM HES A GOOD FRIEND–YOU THINK YOU KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING AND YOU’VE GOTTA LET HIM DOWN GENTLY.
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5361485
>>HE’S A MAN–LET HIM TAKE SOME DAMN INITIATIVE FOR A CHANGE! YOU CHOOSE CRAP ALL THE TIME!

We may be the ultimate SIGMA FEMALE, but sometimes we gotta let someone else do the driving for a change...
>>
>>5361485
>HE’S A MAN–LET HIM TAKE SOME DAMN INITIATIVE FOR A CHANGE! YOU CHOOSE CRAP ALL THE TIME!
Why the remote-controlled-duck do we have to do everything around here? Besides, bones knew we’d pick the mystery box option.
>>
>>5361485
>HE’S A MAN–LET HIM TAKE SOME DAMN INITIATIVE FOR A CHANGE! YOU CHOOSE CRAP ALL THE TIME!
>>
>>5361509
>>5361535
>>5361560
>HE CAN TAKE THE LEAD FOR ONCE!
Writing!
>>
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You know what? NO! You’ve been making decisions and pulling everyone’s weight for almost twenty threads now! You’re making your OWN choice this time around! And that choice, you decide with a steadfast grin plastered on your face, is to not make a choice! That’s right, baby!

“Uhh…” Talbot mutters with growing unease, “Man, can you imagine taking this thing off-road?”

You can, you think to yourself, but you stick with your guns and keep your trap shut! Keeping Talbot locked in your vise-grip embrace, you stare at his dopey face until your eyes hurt!

“You… you okay, Stan?” He asks as a faint bead of sweat forms on his brow. “You’re being pretty quiet… a-and that’s cool and all!”

You’re more than okay, you think to yourself as you watch Talbot start to quake under your stare! The question is: what’s HE gonna do about it, huh?

For a while it feels like the two of you are gonna stand frozen in the trailer until morning–a repeat of that riotous night in JOPLIN. Just when you feel your resolve start to crack, you feel Talbot place his mitts on your shoulders with a defeated sigh!

“Y… ya’ know, it’s funny…” He chuckles nervously as you continue to press your face into his chest, “There’s so much stuff that… that coulda’ happened, right?”

You blink. Hmm?

“Well,” he mutters disappointedly when he realizes you aren’t gonna butt in, “Like, if things had turned out different, I coulda’ still been a brainless murder machine right now–hell, we probably coulda’ had some big showdown back in ATLANTA or whatever!”

You nearly blurt out a joke about him still being brainless, but you catch yourself! Ooh, he’s GOOD!

“Or maybe, like, I wouldn’t be human–but still cool.”

It ain’t easy maintaining silence while also silently willing him to hurry up, but you think you managed it, somehow!

“I, uh… I don’t believe in God, or Fate, or karma, or The Moon Landing, or any of that crap.” He mutters, shrugging his broad shoulders as he continues to look at you, “but uh… for what it’s worth? I’m…” Glancing over at his unfinished beer, Talbot gulps down his remaining apprehension and stares you dead in the eye!

“I’m CRAZY about you, Stanley. I know we just met a few days ago, but I think we both passed the test… a-and I know things are really weird right now what with the skeletons and crap and it’s, y’know, movin’ fast’ and all, b-but…” Pausing mid-babble, your ex-bodyguard looks at you pleadingly for a moment before letting loose a defeated groan!

“AaAAAh fuck it!”

With that your fellow janitor and steadfast protector dips his face down to your level and pulls you into a passionate kiss–not a peck, not a ‘deal-sealer’, but a KISS!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5361639
Time slows to a crawl as you collapse into his embrace. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hook your leg around his and bring him closer–pressing your body against his as he takes your hip in one hand and caresses the back of your head with the other. Basking in the warmth of your quickened breaths in between each kiss, your chaotic dance takes you off the floor when Talbot gently lowers you on to the plush zebra-print couch.

“You…” he pants, probably just about as surprised as you are that you got this far, “you good?”

Still reeling from the sudden onslaught of, well, everything, you’re barely able to sputter out a response:

>YEA… LET’S STICK WITH THE KISSING, THOUGH…
>BRING HIM CLOSER TO YOU. THIS COUCH IS REALLY COMFORTABLE…
>DID… DID HE WANNA SEE YOUR WATER BED?
>Y’KNOW… YOU REALLY OUGHTA TAKE A SHOWER BEFORE BED…
>YOU’RE DONE FOR NOW… BUT THANKS, TALBOT.
>SORRY, BUT THIS… THIS IS A MISTAKE. WE SHOULD STOP…
>WRITE-IN!

Gonna call it here tonight–getting a little tired on my end! Should have more THURSDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST! Hope to see you then!
Note from the management: in case this heads in a certain… direction… I’m not entirely sure where I’d write up the uh… details. If a brave anon has an idea, feel free to let me know either in the thread or via Twitter–don’t have a lot of experience in writing these kinds of things, but I’m down to try unless someone else wants to try their hand at it! If all else fails, I’ll probably fade to black… IF we go in said certain direction, that is. Thanks for your patience!
>>
>>5361640
>YEA… LET’S STICK WITH THE KISSING, THOUGH…
>DID… DID HE WANNA SEE YOUR WATER BED?
Lmao poor Ly is gonna need therapy. Tell Talbot he has to take us on a proper date when this is all over, though.

>Spoiler
Folks used to use pastebin itself for that kind of stuff, until they started going full Gestapo on nsfw material a couple years back. I think you still can use pastebin to that end, but you have to censor whatever you put into it. Now, your best bet is probably rentry. or to just post it on Ao3. At least there it will be safe and accessible. If you decide to, that is.

I hate spoiler text. It only works when it wants to.
>>
>>5361640
>>YEA… LET’S STICK WITH THE KISSING, THOUGH…

Sorry Bones, whatever's in the pastebin I'm gonna skip out on-- I, uh, got little experience in the dating field. So can't give any suggestions there.

Racoon goodboynium bbs ahoy
>>
>>5361709
And in case it weren’t clear, my vote is for keeping things sfw, but moving it to the waterbed for the night. And maybe cuddling until morning…
>>
>>5361640
>>5361757 +1
>>
>>5361709
>>5361787
>STICK WITH THE KISSY-KISSY!
>BUT CHECK OUT THIS BED, BABY!

>>5361724
>STICK WITH THE KISS!

You got it! Got a few errands to run later in the day, but should still be able to put out a few updates! Writing!
>>
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Grabbing Talbot by his bowtie, you bring him in close and whisper your response in his ear: yea, you mutter, still gasping for air, you’re good…

Resuming with gusto, the two of you spend a few blissful moments rolling around on the couch until it dawns on you that, well… you’re not gonna want to stop at this rate!

Fighting the warm, tingling feeling blanketing your body and a very eager Talbot, you manage to push his face away from yours just long enough to get a few words in! Hey, you stammer, is… can we just stick with the, uh… kissing stuff… tonight?

“Uhhh, y-yea!” The boy responds, mind still reeling from lack of blood, “Y-you got it…”

Leaning in for more, you stop him again by placing a finger over his mouth. When all this is over, though, you continue as a toothy grin forms on your face, he’s gonna take you on a proper date, yea?

Talbot’s flushed face scrunches up in contemplation. “Well DUH! B-but l-like, a fancy one, or?”

You dork. Flicking his sweaty forehead, you bring him back in for another smooch before glancing towards the bedroom behind him. Say, you add, did he wanna check out your water bed?

Well apparently the goods in front of him don’t hold a candle to the promise of a water bed, because at the mere mention of those two words Talbot’s eyes light up like a fireworks factory!

“W-w-WATER BED!?

Scooping you up and carrying you to the bedroom like a princess, h-OOW, FUCK!

“Shit! SORRY!” Talbot quickly apologizes as you massage your forehead from where it just impacted against the fridge! Reorienting you in his arms, the big oaf gallantly carries you into the bedroom and chucks you onto the bed! Laughing as you bounce a few times, you soar even higher when Talbot dives onto the spot next to you and launches you close to the divot in the ceiling!

“Huh,” he mutters as you deftly land in his outstretched arm, “Where’d that dent come from?”

Uh… y-you dunno, you shrug before pulling him back into your arms! Somewhere in the middle of the storm of snuggling and kisses Talbot’s jacket gets unzipped… and subsequently chucked onto the ground. Then go your boots and his shoes. Then his shirt.

“I…” he pants, his surprisingly-toned torso glistening in the lava lamp light over you, “It uh… it cool if I crash here?”

DUH, you growl as you shove him off of you!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5362044
Before he can protest, you give him a wink as you take your time unzipping your coveralls…

“Stan, PLEASE!” Pleads Ly as Nats makes dial tone noises in the background, “Y-you said you was just kissin’! I can’t escape! P-PLEASE, AT LEAST TURN OFF DA’ LIGHTS!”

Shut up, Ly, you groan as you finish unzipping, does he expect you to sleep in your grody-ass coveralls?

“Y-yea, well-”
That’s right, you huff, emerging from the work clothes like a butterfly leaving a cocoon! Removing your hat and ears as well, it takes you a moment to remember that you’re not alone! Oh… right.

“Wha…” Talbot babbles as his eyes practically pop out upon seeing your purchase from Haulie-Paulie, “Y-you’ve been wearing that this whole time?”

Err… t-ta-daaaa?

Tackling you like a hawk snatching up a hare, you and Talbot lose yourselves in what feels like hours of hedonistic bliss. By the time your head is working properly again, you find yourself using the janitor’s chest as a pillow with his arm cradling you below. Idly running your fingers across his torso, you give him a gentle kick when you feel his hand brush against your outfit’s, uh… tail. Easy, mister!

“Yea, yea…” he snickers in a quiet, weary, but still pleased tone. “So,” he continues as he runs his mischievous hand through the back of your sweaty hair, “where you wanna go for that first date, huh?”

Well, you giggle…

>I WANNA EAT SOMEWHERE FANCY!
>YOU EVER BEEN TO THE BOARDWALK?
>SOMEWHERE FAR FROM CLEARWATER, DUDE.
>IT’LL BE WARMER SOON–THE BEACH SOUNDS GOOD!
>YOU WANNA SEE THE FOREST–Y’KNOW, ASSUMING IT DOESN’T ALL BURN DOWN.
>SURPRISE ME! YOU’RE THE GUY!
>WRITE-IN!

Q2: ANY LAST THINGS YOU WANNA SAY/DO BEFORE DRIFTING OFF TO SLEEP?
>THANKS, T. FOR EVERYTHING.
>WE’VE GOT TOMORROW IN THE BAG, YOU KNOW!
>YOU’RE A REAL GOOF, Y’KNOW THAT?
>LET’S DO THIS AGAIN REAL SOON, OKAY?
>NAH, SLEEP TIME!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5362049
>YOU EVER BEEN TO THE BOARDWALK?
That was one of Stan’s favorite places, wasn’t it?
>WE’VE GOT TOMORROW IN THE BAG, YOU KNOW!
We have a secret weapon if the Lich turns him against us. Booba. More powerful than any sorcery.
>>
>>5362049
>>5362076
+1
>>
>>5362080
Looks like it’s just you an’ me again, anon.
>>
>>5362076
supporting this.
>>
>>5362076
>>5362080
>>5362136
>BOARDWALK, BAYBEEEEE
>TOMORROW WON'T KNOW WHAT HIT IT!
Errands are run, that means it's back to FUN! Or something like that, anyways. Writing!

>>5362076
No sorcerer can match the sheer power of ta-tas... and for what it's worth, Talbot's showing a LOT of restraint, folks! Let's give him a round of applause, shall we? Poor bastard!
>>
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You know the answer immediately, of course–your special place: the eye of the storm: the one place you can go in this shitty town to untangle your mess of a mind:

Why, the BOARDWALK, of course, you chirp as you give your… well, whatever he is now, a smile!

“... isn’t that where all the hobos bone each other?” Talbot blinks with genuine concern in his eyes. No, you MORON, you snarl, giving his leg another kick! Not ON the boardwalk, at least!

“Oh. Well cool, then!” He recovers as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze! “Hope you got a lotta room at your place, cuz’ you’re gonna be going home with a SHITton of prizes!”

Pssh, you snicker in disbelief, and who’s gonna win ‘em all, huh? Him?

“Uhh, yea, actually!” He retorts, unable to fathom why you wouldn’t believe him! “And hey, play your cards right and I might actually carry them for ya!”

Ooh, such a gentleman, you remark as you rub your cheek against his side! You’ll keep that in mind when you take his sorry ass to the batting cages! Before you can bully each other further, an exceptionally-long yawn escapes from your mouth reminding you just how long it’s been since you’ve had a good night’s sleep!

“Geez, am I boring you already?” Jokes Talbot as he gives your ear a playful flick.

No, stupid, you yawn again, you’re just… oof…

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you turn and stare your sleepover pal in the eyes. You know what?

“Shoot.”

Tomorrow? Tomorrow ain’t gonna know what hit it, you declare with absolute certainty! Planting another juicy kiss on Talbot’s lips, you flop onto him and let out a contented sigh. Welp, you mutter, this is it: he can’t move for the rest of the night!

“Yea, uh…” He mutters, gently untangling himself from your arms and legs, “Mind if I hit the can first?”

Fine, you groan, jabbing a thumb towards the bathroom, but be quick or the bed is YOURS!

“That’s what you think!” He snickers, rising from the bed with a faint ‘ow’ muttered under his breath. You didn’t kick him THAT hard!

After a few minutes of absence later, Talbot returns from the bathroom feeling refreshed and ready for bed! Diving back under the covers next to you, you sit up to let his arm slide under your back before placing your head back on his chest where it belongs.

“G’night, Stan.” He whispers, giving you one last kiss as you drift off to the sound of cheering partygoers, distant guns shooting, and, most importantly, the sound of his heart beating next to you...

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5362192
Sleep, as you might expect, comes quickly–almost too fast. By the time you awaken, it’s still dark outside–and a hell of a lot windier!
https://youtu.be/95INf7u8tDM
As the windows of the trailer shake behind the heavy curtains, you sink deeper beneath the covers when your bare shoulders and back are hit by the frigid air–you thought California was supposed to be warm, damn it!

Talbot, you whisper, feeling around for him in the still-dark room, go turn on the heater and you’ll give him a kiss!

Either he’s gotten wise to your act or he isn’t there anymore, and after a few seconds of careful investigation, you find his side of the bed to be completely vacant. Oh no, you think to yourself as doubt settles in, did… did he leave because you didn’t show him your b-

Before you can finish that thought, you hear the sound of more guns firing outside–those shooting range guys are still going!? Well, you sigh, still burdened by sleepiness, they are skeletons… not like they need sleep. Licking your cold, dry lips, you look past the bedroom door and the trailer entrance impatiently–stupid Talbot, you growl, probably went to drink more and brag to the guys or something!

Or, your mind continues to wander, maybe he’s gonna surprise you with BREAKFAST! Oh man, that’d totally win him a few points!

Jumpstarted by the promise of breakfast, you give your ribs a few nudges to see if Ly’s alive. Hey dork, you still there?

“Gnk! Hrrm? Is… is it over?”

Yea, stupid, it never even began! Did Nats go back to her home dimension, or something?

Your demonic tenant responds with a series of rhythmic snores like something out of an old cartoon. Probably for the best.

“So, stayed outta’ trouble, huh?” Ly asks with a mix of sternness and a hint of curiosity in his voice. “REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM won’t stop callin’ me, ya’ know.”

They can butt out, okay!? Besides, you huff, you’ve got better things to do–you’ve got a plan to follow, after all!

That said, it IS still pretty dark–what do you start with now that you’re awake?
>GET DRESSED! IT’S COLD AND YOU’RE NOT WEARING THIS OUTSIDE!
>GRAB A QUICK SHOWER! THAT’LL WARM YA’ UP!
>JUST NAP A LITTLE LONGER–TODAY’S GONNA BE CRAZY…
>SEE IF THERE ARE ANY FRIES LEFT!
>SEE IF YOU CAN SPOT ANYTHING THROUGH A WINDOW!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5362195
>GRAB A QUICK SHOWER! THAT’LL WARM YA’ UP!

I refuse to battle TIM while filthy.
>>
>>5362208
+1
>>
>>5362208
Sure. Might as well grab the shower while we have the chance.
>>
>>5362208
>>5362217
>>5362232
>SQUEAKY-CLEAN!
Proper hygiene is half the battle, folks! Writing!
>>
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Well if Talbot’s out grabbing food, you ponder, then you’d might as well grab a quick shower while you’re alone–can’t beat a lich looking filthy, after all!

“Not a bad idea–it’s freezin’!” Remarks Ly as you bravely emerge from the covers! Immediately wrapping your arms around your less-than-covered chest, you scamper across the chilly floor over to the bathroom nestled in the corner and slam the door shut behind you!

While it doesn’t completely eliminate the muffled gunfire, howling winds, or the teeth-chatteringly cold temperature, at the very least the closet-sized shower room has everything you need to get cleaned up! Wiggling out of your BUNNY SUIT and letting your stockings and underwear drop to the floor, you waste no time in cranking the shower up to high temp as the icy air nips at your bare skin.

As the room slowly fills with hot steam (the harmless kind, thank god), you test the spray with your toe a few times before eventually finding the right temperature!

“So:” Ly begins in a stern tone, “What’s dis’ Talbot guy to you anyways?”

Hopping into the shower, you answer your skeleton with a low groan! Is this how today’s gonna go? He’s just gonna bug you?

“I’m just curious, is all!” He replies defensively! “These boys today… y’know dat’ they have dis’ thing called an ‘open relationship’ now? Means no one’s committed ta’ anyone! It’s insanity, Stan!”

Wow, you blink as you slather body lotion onto your body like you were marinating a steak, you never pegged him as so… traditional. Also if he isn’t closing his eyes you’re gonna slug him!

“Trust me: they haven’t been open since last night!” Shivers your skeleton as you squirt a dollop of shampoo into your SWEET HAIRDO! “An’ I might never open ‘em again!”

What a diva. Nats, you grunt, you gonna be annoying too?

S-s-s-s-s-so j-j-j-j-j-jeal-jeal-jeal-

Great, that’s a yes!

“I just wanna protect ya’, kid!” Ly adds with renewed passion in his disembodied voice! “Can ya’ blame me for not wantin' ya’ ta’ get hurt?”

You get it, dad. And besides, you continue as you give your body one more scrub, it’s not like he’s your boyf-your… you know!

Just when you’re about to linger in the hot water for a few more minutes, the faint sound of a knocking at the trailer’s front door talks you out of it! Annoyed at being disturbed, you waste no time in snatching up a towel and begin drying yourself off!

Talbot, you roar, that you!?

You get a muffled voice in response, but it sounds like him. Well then, you continue, frantically drying yourself off, just come in, damn it!

Despite your clear instructions, however, the door doesn’t open. STUPID!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5362482
Typical, you mutter as you throw your scattered clothes onto your still-drying body, juuust typical! Nearly tripping as you hop on one foot to get your stockings back on, you barely have time to adjust the, uh, chest region of your BUNNY SUIT as you hurry to the door. At least it has build-in support…

Shaking the remaining droplets of water out of your hair, you pick up the pace when you hear the knock at your door again! Fucking moron must’ve locked himself out, you mutter to yourself, he doesn’t deserve to be greeted at the door like this…

More or less dressed by the time you reach the door, you take a moment to check the lock so you can hold it over Talbot’s head in your impending argument. Yep, you snarl as you grab the handle and push, UNLOCKED! So why does he need you t-

Your question goes unanswered as the wailing winds outside nearly TEAR the door off its hinges letting an arctic gale sweep you backwards off your feet and back into the trailer! Stupefied by your sudden flight, you blink in confusion as your face and body are peppered by dark, tiny, frigid flecks of ice!

“Stan…” Ly whispers, “It’s… it’s a damn BLIZZARD!

That’d be news enough for any Calfornian, but as you peer down at your torso you make an even bigger discovery–one that gives you a sensation akin to having your guts dipped in an ice bath:

Ly, you stammer, paralyzed with shock, it’s BLOOD.

IT’S A BLOOD BLIZZARD!

Frantically wiping the sanguine snowflakes off your skin, a tall, imposing figure darkens your door–one with a familiar bowtie around his neck and tracksuit on his body…but an unfamiliar liquid metal skull-shaped mask with eyes glowing red like the drops of blood on your skin!

T-Talbot?

The mask curls into a manic grin–like something an alien would make trying to replicate human behavior.

WHY HELLO, HONEY–DIDJA’ MISS ME?

With that, your fellow janitor coils a metallic tendril around your neck!

Talbot… you croak as you feel your windpipe slacken under the tentacle, wh-why…

Don’t be a numSKULL, my dear… you know EXACTLY who I am!

Staring into Talbot’s glowing eyes, you feel the same deathly sensation you felt on that fateful night in the doggie bone factory–the one you’re still not certain how you survived…

TIM!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5362484
https://youtu.be/v2bJyAHzqqY
Were you ALWAYS this stupid, or were you BONE yesterday!?!” Snarls Talbot’s body as it hurls you through the kitchen and into the coffee table! “I’ve had to listen to you and your entourage of ignoramuses butcher my name for DAYS now, so listen closely–you might LEARN something!

Snatching you up by the leg before you can scurry away from the debris, THE LICH IN TALBOT’S BODY whips you around the mobile home slamming your body into every wall, ceiling, and appliance he can see! “I… AM TIBIUS MAXIMUS: THE NEW AND ETERNAL RULER OF THIS WRETCHED TOWN… AND SOON…

Letting you go in mid-air, THE LICH snatches your head with a tentacle and slams you face-first into the floor!

THE WOOOOORRRRLDD!

Leaving you in a heap in the middle of the kitchen, the lich wearing Talbot’s body steps up into the mobile home and fiddles with the bowtie around his neck with a quiet cackle! “Poor, poor Stanley… it really is SO hard to find good friends nowadays, isn’t it?

Answering his question with a swipe of your BONE CLAWS, your attack goes wide as he bats your arm away with a tentacle! “Easy now–wouldn’t want to scratch up your new boy-toy, would you? Unless you’re into the rough stuff, that is! NYAHAHAHA!

Still reeling from being flung all over the trailer, you start the slow process of peeling yourself off the floor. What… what the hell did you do to Talbot?

Ah-ah-ah: you can stay right there, thanks!” Before you can protest, a swarm of tendrils dart at your head and slam it back into the wood floor! “And I didn’t DO anything, you floundering floorwaxer! YOU’RE the one who decided to make friends with MY thralls!

They… you hiss through gritted teeth as the taste of blood spreads through your mouth, they were free-

To obey ME, yes…” Replies Talbot’s current tenant. “And for the longest time I was ALMOST worried I’d been a tad too SOFT on how much influence I exerted over them… until, that is, you came along…” His crooked smile becomes even more gnarled. “Tell me, Stanley: do you make friends with every BATTERY you use? Do you ask your toast and jam at breakfast to regale you with their tragic backstories?

Cackling menacingly to himself, Talbot’s masked face lights up with glee as another example comes to mind! “Or wait… do you take every pencil and eraser you use to bed with you? Or would you rather your relationship stayed strictly platonic?”

Shut UP, you snarl, still pinned to the floor! Shut the HELL UP!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5362487
Take your own advice, girl!” The lich fires back! “We wouldn’t even BE here right now had you not tried to befriend MY slaves! And to think they were even planning a REVOLT–now THAT’S HUMERUS!

Exploding into a cackling fit, THE LICH takes you once more and hurls you into the bedroom!

So THIS is where the magic happens, hm?” Jokes TIBIUS as he strolls in after you with a smug look on his masked face. “LOVE what you’ve done with the place.

Shaking his head at your sprawled-out form, the lich lets out a disappointed sigh. “You really shouldn’t form attachments to them, Stanley–it’s not healthy, you know!

Sending an EYE LASER BLAST his way, The Litch ducks to the side as a frown forms on his crooked face!

Do you MIND!? Try that again and I won’t dodge it–you really wanna get all snuggly-wuggly with an AMPUTEE?

Scrambling to your feet, you rush Talbot’s possessed body just in time to get swatted backwards into one of the end tables and lava lamps! How… you stammer, wincing as the lamp’s contents spill onto your bare shoulder, how did he-

KNOW!? How did I KNOW!?” Roars The Lich in disbelief! “EVERY skeleton in this wretched burg is MINE, you freckled FOOL! Whatever they see, I SEE! Whatever they hear, I HEAR! Whatever they touch… well, you get the picture.” He concludes, shivering as he stares at your prone form. “Y’know, you could REALLY use a bit less tongu-

So Cliff helping defeat Rocky–Gramps and Andre taking down Clayton and Mendoza–that was all a part of his ‘plan’? That’s STUPID!

A calculated risk, nothing more.” Replies The Lich with another slanted grin on his masked face. “What’s ‘STUPID’, as you’ll soon have the pleasure of discovering yourself, is gathering an army of my loyal subjects in one fortified place… and then SPENDING THE NIGHT THERE!” Cackling madly, The Lich tears the curtain off a nearby window and points towards the blizzard outside!

Like it? I’ve been told this place doesn’t get much snow… and now that I’ve obtained a wellspring of LIFE ESSENCE, I can afford to SPLURGE a bit…

Following his pointed finger, you notice it: amidst the bloody blizzard blowing through the night are countless pairs of glowing red eyes–their owners marching through the darkness like robots!

Speaking of, I’m afraid you’ll find your bony friends to be a bit less receptive to your charms now…” The Lich cackles as more gunfire rises above the roaring blizzard! “You’re more than welcome to try, of course!

You… you hiss, you ain’t getting away with th-

Oh don’t be so NEGATIVE! I already HAVE!” The Lich boasts in a matter-of-fact tone!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5362489
And even if you DID have a chance to stop me, well… I think you’ll find yourself rather BUSY today… I feel it in my BONES!

As you sit slumped against the wall, The Lich dutifully retrieves your CHRISTY-MADE RADIO from the COVERALLS on the floor. “CHANNEL 3, was it?

Before you can answer, he flicks it on for you with a genial grin!

The radio is barely on for a second before a cacophony of overlapping voices, gunshots, and screams fills the trailer!

“-aring our masks and ARMOR!”
“-iological contaminants in the air filters–it’s-”
“-CKING THE MEDICAL WING! WE NEED FIRE SUPPORT, DAMN I-”
“-LEAR THE DAMN CHANNEL AND FOCUS ON GETTING CIVILIANS TO THE PANIC ROOMS!” Roars Blumenkrantz as The Lich playfully imitates a conductor leading an orchestra. “AND FOCUS ON THOSE DAMNED ROBED-”

Crushing the device into scrap before your very eyes, The Lich shoots you an ‘I-told-you-so’ look as you absorb what little info you comprehended. The Lo-

Now, now, Stanley–I think you’ve talked MORE than enough for the past few days!” Sneers The Lich as he snatches you up once more with a tentacle around your neck! “But since you’re so fond of making friends with the DEAD, well…” Pressing your face against the cold, rattling window, The Lich cackles softly to himself as you watch scattered gunfire light up across the DRIVE-IN! No!

Oh YES!” Sneers TIBIUS,Frankly it’s a good thing I came to fetch you when I did… could you imagine how EMBARRASSING it’d be if your little fan club was torn to RIBBONS while you were taking a SHOWER? No, no–no need to thank me!

Clawing at the tendril wrapped around your neck, you croak for him to let Talbot go!

All in good time…” Tightening his grip around your neck, The Lich’s voice warps and your sight grows dim as you quickly run out of breath!

Now, now–you made this personal, Stanley. Not me… There’s an old saying, you know… one of my favorites, actually.” Bringing you close to Talbot’s masked face, TIBIUS continues as he stares into your very soul. “’The most painful strike comes not from the front…’

He drops you to the ground, prompting you to immediately gasp for air.

... but from the SIDE.’ Glancing out the window, you follow his gaze to find a line of SKELETON GREASERS emerging from the cover of the blizzard marching like robots… half armed with ROCKET LAUNCHERS, the other half carrying FLAMETHROWERS.

… and one of them clad in an unmistakable striped shirt.

>CONTD.
>>
>>5362490
Don’t fret, my dear–I wouldn’t dare deprive you of dear old Talbot’s company for long…” Planting his foot on your throat, the bastard wearing Talbot’s body sneers at your scrambling form. “Or deprive his traitorous eyes the sight of you bleeding out… by HIS hands!

Seeing another tentacle dart towards your stomach, you roll to the side just in time to catch it in your side! Cackling with menacing glee, you sense The Lich’s presence fade somewhat from Talbot’s still-masked form! “BONE VOYAGE, Stanley! Give my regards to the afterlife… and don’t bother saving me a seat! NYAAAAHAHAHAHAAA!

Before you can respond, you hear the whizz of a projectile fly through the blizzard outside… and then an impact.

ROLL ME 1d100+5 (+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, -5 STABBED AND SHOCKED) TO NOT GET HURT BY WHATEVER THAT WAS! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 32 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5362493
>>
Rolled 70 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5362493

FUCK AAAHAHHHH
>>
Rolled 54 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5362493
Don’t you nat one me now you fucks!
>>
>>5362495
>>5362500
>>5362518
>HIGHEST ROLL: 75!
Writing! Sorry, got roped into watching a movie. Should have one more update for tonight!
>>
That god damn bitch in green
>>
Does this mean Talbot was the "traitor" al along if there even was one given Tim's control of the skeletons?
>>
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You’re still rattled–that goes without saying, but when you hear the familiar sound of a rocket-propelled grenade rushing towards you, your body goes into autopilot. Diving to the far end of the living room, you manage to sink your BONE CLAWS into the wall and cling to it as the whole trailer flips like a metal omelette!

Still sporting his glowing eyes and menacing metal mask, Talbot doesn’t react at all when the rocket hits the outside of the wall next to him, and as the resulting explosion vaporizes the middle of the mobile home, you lose sight of the janitor when the blast engulfs him!

For a few moments, all you do is roll–you don’t remember being on a particularly big hill, but then you remember the moat of scrap metal spikes set up between the Drive-In and the wall. Lots. Fighting back your urge to spill your guts on the spinning floor, you slowly but surely clamber towards what you hope is a safer part of the trailer just as your metal coffin makes one final bounce!

Sure enough, after a second or two of air you and your lodgings land with a screech of metal into a bed of massive and impeccably-sharp spikes! Punching through the walls like they were made of balsa wood, the spikes stop mere inches from your head… then centimeters when the trailer’s weight shifts one last time. As you take a ragged gasp of air from your spot on what used to be the ceiling, you spy your REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK dangling from the floor above!

Shit, Stan. SHIT.

You know, Ly.

Is… he meant what he said about the others, right? Are they going to hold ou-

You KNOW!

Climbing with renewed purpose towards the duck, you glance in the direction of the bedroom as well in hopes of spotting your COVERALLS… along with the rest of your items, but where there was once a passage into the bedroom is now just a growing inferno barely hindered by the crimson-tinged snow rushing in through the massive hole in the wall! Maybe if you can climb in through the windo-
CRUUUNCH!
The wall between the kitchen bathroom and the living room bursts into scrap and splinters as a charred figure clad in liquid metal rakes a dozen jagged tendrils through it.

Talbot.

Watching you hang from the wall with almost machinelike impassiveness, he wordlessly shoves the remaining obstructions out of his way and stomps towards you with deadly purpose in his glowing red eyes!
https://youtu.be/9buc2szkvt4

>CONTD.
>>
>>5362705
T-Talbot… you mutter as the metal-clad figure sprouts more tentacles from his back and starts climbing towards you like a spider,

please…

“We… we gotta move, Stan!” Ly commands as you dart through a pair of tentacles swinging for your throat, “NOW!

What do you do FIRST?
>KEEP TRYING TO REASON WITH TALBOT–IT’S DANGEROUS, BUT HE’S GOTTA BE IN THERE!
>TRY TO GRAB YOUR STUFF! YOU CAN’T DO THIS WITHOUT IT!
>TALBOT’S TOUGH–IF YOU BEAT HIM UP A LITTLE IT’LL BUY YOU SOME TIME WITHOUT KILLING HIM!
>JUST LEAVE–YOUR FRIENDS ARE IN MORE DANGER!
>WRITE-IN!

STATUS:
ART IS IN DANGER.
SYB IS IN DANGER.
MITZI IS IN DANGER.
EDDIE IS IN DANGER.
TUCKER IS IN DANGER.
GUS IS IN DANGER.
KIKI IS IN DANGER.
DENISE IS IN DANGER.
TALBOT IS IN DANGER.


That’s it for tonight, folks. Will resume FRIDAY around 10-11AM PST! Thanks for playing and hope you enjoyed the party–all downhill from here!
>>
>>5362650
Who? /: 3
>>5362702
I guess we'll see, won't we? Lots to do!
>>
>>5362708
>TRY TO GRAB YOUR STUFF! YOU CAN’T DO THIS WITHOUT IT!
>>
>>5362708
>TRY TO GRAB YOUR STUFF! YOU CAN’T DO THIS WITHOUT IT!
>>
>>5362708
>>TRY TO GRAB YOUR STUFF! YOU CAN’T DO THIS WITHOUT IT!
>>
>>5362720
>>5362745
>>5362748
Yea, looks pretty unanimous to me and I didn't pass out yet, so why don't you give me...

1d100+10(+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMONIC STRENGTH, +5 BONE SPEED, -5 STILL SHOCKED) TO EVADE TALBOT AND SNATCH YOU STUFF! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Naturally I'll assume you wanna grab the DUCK too, don't worry. Also that's IT, REALLY! I'm done until FRIDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST! SERIOUSLY! BYE!
>>
>>5362781
TALBOT BETTER NOT FUCKING DIE.
THAT'S ART'S JOB.
>>
Rolled 88 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5362783
>>5362781
>>
Rolled 98 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5362781
It’s that fucking mask on him. It has to be! If we can part that thing from his face, I’d bet my damn socks he’d come to.
>>
Rolled 45 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5362781
>>
>>5362783
> TALBOT BETTER NOT FUCKING DIE.
THAT'S ART'S JOB.
I am currently drunk and checking the thread to see the third dice roll, and reading this now is solid lmao
>>
>>5362702
No, it's fairly clear who the traitor is now, at least partially.

It's us. We've been walking around, talking to thralls of Tim, conversing and planning with the enemy every step of the way.
>>
>>5362956
That is what meant with the "...if there even was one given Tim's control of the skeletons" part of my question
>>
Rescue wise do we want to go strongest to weakest? Or weakest to strongest? More strength means we would move faster, but the weakest people are the most likely to get deboned. A little worried that Mitz, Gus and Denise are basically flying solo, but hopefully someone (Art?) had the good sense to keep the group closer together.

The student trio is probably together, Syb and Art are probably together.

I think the big question is going to be if we want to deal with Talbot now, or rescue everyone with him hot on our tail?
>>
>>5362785
>>5362786
>>5362869
>HIGHEST ROLL: 108!
You GET that stuff! Writing!
>>
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One thing’s for certain–you’re not going to be saving anyone without your gear… or at least some shoes, so keeping your momentum going, you dart past Talbot’s mess of tentacles and use your PLUGGED-IN REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK to swing across the trailer like a monkey!

Tugging your duck free of the charger at the apex of your swing, you sail over Talbot as he desperately lunges for you and out through the hole formed by the rocket! Though the bloody blizzard nips at your skin, you don’t stay outside long thanks to gravity. As you pass the spreading flames on your way down, you deftly tuck and roll and land in the remains of your bedroom!

It doesn’t take long for you to find your COVERALLS AND BOOTS lying on the floor, and as you gather up your belongings you spot your CAP wedged behind the bed right when Talbot crashes through the wall again! Just gimme a sec here!

Blasting the floor under Talbot into melting scrap with an EYE LASER BLAST, doesn’t hinder him much, but it does give you enough time to get dressed! For anyone else it’d be tricky to manage, but having been late for work so many times the suit-up process comes pretty naturally!

Zipping your coveralls all the way up to fend off the cold and setting your cap at a roguish angle, you barely have time to strike a pose before half a dozen tendrils punch through the wall behind you and swipe for your head! Ducking them all as you scamper away, you stop just short of the hole in the trailer as you spot countless glowing orbs approaching from the top of the hill!

“Okay…da’ others probably grabbed trailers too, right?!” Ly asks in a panicked voice as you take cover behind the remaining metal. “Dat’ means they can’t be too far!”

Here’s hoping… Dodging another cluster of tentacles that tear apart the wall behind you, you instinctively draw your trusty CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION… but quickly lower it when you remember who’s attacking you.

There’s no telling how much time your friends have left, if they even have any at all, but should you spend any of it trying to reach Talbot?

What do?
>TRY TO REACH TALBOT! HE’S IN THERE!
>YOU CAN HANDLE TALBOT FOR A WHILE–START COMBING THE TRAILERS NEAR YOU FOR FRIENDS!
>PUT TALBOT ON HOLD–TRY TO FIND A VANTAGE POINT TO LOCATE YOUR PALS!
>THE VAN’S AT THE GARAGE–MAYBE SOME OF YOUR BUDDIES WENT THERE!
>THERE’S TOO MANY SKELETONS APPROACHING–YOU NEED TO TAKE A FEW OUT BEFORE PROCEEDING!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5363051
>>PUT TALBOT ON HOLD–TRY TO FIND A VANTAGE POINT TO LOCATE YOUR PALS!
>>
>>5363051
>THERE’S TOO MANY SKELETONS APPROACHING–YOU NEED TO TAKE A FEW OUT BEFORE PROCEEDING!

We're the one they want, let's go in hot and raise a ruckus, make sure they know it's us, try to draw heat away from our friends.

How long does our demon trigger last? Might be a powerful tool for getting things under control, but I don't want to burn it too.
>>
>>5363062
For the sake of decision-making, Nat's can't give you an exact length of time--it might last for the rest of your escape, at least, but like your encounter with that magic conduit near Atlantis you'll be pretty pooped after. Not for the rest of the day, mind, but in the short term you'll need to rest.
>>
>>5363069

Could we pop a skell and steal their bone marrow to replenish?
>>
>>5363076
It would certainly help, yes!
>>
>>5363083

Okay, NATS time!
>>
>>5363085
Gotta be more specific than that, pal--you switching to >>5363062 this fine anon's vote, or do you wanna let NATS take the wheel while you find a vantage point?
>>
>>5363089

I will proceed to switch my vote.
>>
>>5363093
Groovy gravy. So by the votes it looks like we're gonna
>MAKE A FRIGGIN' RUCKUS
But just so that we're all on the same page here...

DO YOU LET NATS TAKE THE WHEEL? WARNING: MAY RESULT IN FATIGUE!
>HELL YE, BROTHER!
>N-NO THANK YOU... W-WE CAN KILL JUST FINE ON OUR OWN, NYA
>>
>>5363098
>>HELL YE, BROTHER!

As long as we pop some skeleton skulls afterwards, and we got no shortage of those since they're all after us.
>>
>>5363098
>HELL YE, BROTHER!
>>
>>5363098
>HELL YE, BROTHER!
>>
>>5363098
>HELL YE, BROTHER!

And Nats, I know some of these skeletons are friends, but no mercy, no quarter, no hesitation. We'll weep for the dead later.
>>
>>5363101
>>5363103
>>5363116
Alright, you fucking MANIACS, you asked for it... you want a ruckus, you GET a ruckus:
ROLL ME 3d100 TO SEE HOW EFFECTIVE SAID RUCKUS IS! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
If you have any specific actions you'd like to relay to Nats, let me know now--you're gonna be outta' the driver's seat for a bit...


>>5363131
Just like THIS anon here! That's the ticket--good description!
>>
Rolled 42, 95, 76 = 213 (3d100)

>>5363132
LOUD.
>>
Rolled 67, 99, 69 = 235 (3d100)

>>5363132
>>
Rolled 76, 7, 60 = 143 (3d100)

>>5363132
Tim had ought to know death doesn’t like being cheated.
>>
>>5363140
>>5363154
>>5363188
>HIGHEST ROLL: 235!
Oh boy... writing!
>>
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As you back away from your ex-bodyguard and the encroaching army of heavily-armed skeletons, your thoughts quickly descend into panic–even if you did slip past them all right now, it’s not like you could find all your friends simultaneously! There must have been hundreds of skeletons at the party last night–and from the look in their dead, glowing eyes they aren’t in the mood to negotiate!

Swatting away Talbot’s tendrils as you back away from the marching dead, a daring thought occurs to you–one that just might tip the scales a bit if it works!

Nats, you mutter as another pair of tendrils whizz past your head, are you ready?

R-right NOW!?” The demon sputters in disbelief! “I… I dunno, sis–I haven’t really taken over before a-

NATS, you repeat with increased urgency, Are. You. READY?

I…” She responds before pausing mid-sentence, “... yea. I’m ready, Stan.

Pinned between the wall and an encroaching Talbot, you raise your BONE ARMOR just as the janitor lunges at you! Tackling you with killing force, you feel the chiton around you groan and creak as he begins to crack you open like a walnut! Nats, you shout as you wrestle with the mass of tentacles aiming to rip you apart, go LOUD, okay!? NO mercy!

B-but…

You know they’re your friends, okay?! But we can’t mourn for them if we’re dead, so DO IT!

Ok-

DO IT!

Like a cane yanking you off a stage, you feel your consciousness being pulled out of frame as something else takes the wheel–something that sizzles and fizzes with an energy that stings you just watching it! Feeling your armor melt away, you watch as an unfamiliar shadowy claw snatches up Talbot’s masked face and slams it into the ground hard enough to make it splinter!

Chucking the janitor off into the night like a frisbee, Nats turns her attention back towards the approaching skeletons–their blank expressions faltering for a moment as they lay eyes on whatever you’ve become! Drawing her DEMONIC PITCHFORK with a low, rumbling growl, you can almost hear the demon utter a quiet ‘sorry’ before letting loose a primal roar that shakes the trailer around you!
Thanks to SirenQM for the sick NATS pic, by the way! Go read Mutant!Quest!
>CONTD.
>>
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>>5363255
https://youtu.be/rLszrtmN7E8
Hurtling towards the line of skeletons like a meteor, Nats swats the rockets out of the air as she closes the gap in seconds! For a moment you feel a slight tingle at your side–it’s only after the demon sweeps her burning trident across the firing line that you realize you’re on fire.

Unconcerned as the skeletal remains of your assailants fall around her like the bloody snowflakes from the magical blizzard, an itch scratches the back of your head prompting the demon to spin on her heels!

A smoking gun drops to the snow-covered ground as its wielder is torn apart by one slash of Nat’s claws. Stomping the gunman’s pompadour’d skull into the bloody snow, you get a glimpse of his shredded striped T-shirt for a second before an EYE LASER reduces it to ash.

If Nats feels anything, she doesn’t show it–like an escaped lion she doesn’t linger long–cresting the hill with feral fury, she charges through another line of skeletons like a bowling ball through pins, scattering the medley of soldiers, pirates, and more into the bloody air like confetti.

Shrugging off their bullets and flame and swatting their rockets aside like they were beach balls, the demon snatches two pieces of ordnance mid flight and, using their rocket-propulsion, spins high in the air before chucking both rockets at the two main hordes of skeletons in the trailer park–one congregating near the gate where the air is lit up with magic and explosives, the other filled with sci-fi-like blasts and bullets… LOTS. From your impromptu flight you can even see some commotion at the GARAGE as well marked by the trading of small arms and orbs of explosive magic.

Landing in the middle of another squad, specifically on one unlucky skeleton’s cranium, Nats twirls her pitchfork around her sending scores of skeletons scattering into the gale force winds! As a pack of pirates join the brawl, one enterprising individual sends a handaxe spinning your way–but the demon wastes no time in returning it to its mustachioed sender. Embedding itself in his skull with a sickening crunch, the pirate you escaped mermaid prison with falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Andre–he deserved better.

Tearing through the reinforcements, you begin to notice a shift from your vantage point on the hill–skeletons that were once pressuring your friends now funnel towards you–their eyes still burning with menacing purpose!

Not one to be forgotten, Talbot emerges from the blizzard too–his cracked mask already rebuilding itself as he pounces for your face! Swatting him away like a wayward baseball, Nats returns to her grim work as the janitor crashes into a nearby trailer and reduces it to scrap!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5363257
Tearing through the skeletons you only just recently partied with like a dog ripping apart a steak, you can’t help but feel a rising burning sensation around you–almost like muscle aches after a workout, not that you have much experience with that, of course.

StTAN…” Croaks your demon as she spears a skeleton through another wave of thralls amidst being showered by a pack of flamethrower operators, “It’s… sLOwWing…

Feeling half a dozen pebbles plink into the back of your head, you watch as Nats turns to face their sender, albeit slower than before. Leading a cavalry charge of about a dozen skeletons is Gramps–his grumpy, bearded face replaced with a hollow stare. Stabbing him with her pitchfork mid-charge, the demon swings him around like a medieval flail and sends the rest of his Rough Riders and their steeds tumbling into the snow!

Dashing him into pieces against the ground, Nats sweeps her immediate surroundings with another LASER EYE BLAST reducing her attackers to molten bone dust and even blowing up a few nearby hot rods!

I… I cAN KEEp GooOINg…” She hisses as your aches slowly morph into burning pain! “I CAan… KEEEP…

A magical explosion rocks the gate end of the trailer park as a female figure bursts into blue flames with a roar of anger! As more and more skeletons dogpile you, Nats immediately gets to work wrestling them off as a few more explosions erupt from the GARAGE!

The demons’ movements slow with each skeleton crushed. Roaring in protest, she tries to save time by mashing skeletons together, bashing them with each other’s limbs, and blasting her surroundings with her LASER EYE, but the skeletons continue to come with no end in sight.

“Stan!” Ly shouts amid the chaos of the fighting and the blizzard, “We softened ‘em up–we gotta’ keep movin’ or we’re done for!”

As Nats continues to fight back the bony horde, you struggle to decide what to attend to next as fatigue starts to settle into your thoughts and body!

>LINK UP WITH SYB–SEEMS LIKE SHE’S ALREADY GOTTEN ANGRY!
>THE SCI-FI BLASTS AND BULLETS–THAT MIGHT BE MITZ AND THE STUDENTS!
>THE GARAGE–GUS MUST BE TANGOING WITH THE MAGE SKELETONS! THE VAN’S THERE TOO!
>THE GATE–IF YOU CAN SECURE AN ESCAPE ROUTE…
>FIND TALBOT–HE MIGHT BE WEAKENED NOW!
>KEEP DISTRACTING–KEEP FIGHTING! YOUR FRIENDS CAN HANDLE THIS!
>WRITE-IN!

Q2: SHOULD NATS STAY IN CHARGE, OR SHOULD SHE GET YOU SOMEWHERE SAFE AND STOP?
>KEEP FIGHTING A LITTLE LONGER, NATS!
>YOU DID GOOD–GET US SOMEWHERE SAFE TO TRADE OFF!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5363261
>>LINK UP WITH SYB–SEEMS LIKE SHE’S ALREADY GOTTEN ANGRY!

We need to consolidate our power with SYB since she really doesn't run out of magic if she plays her cards right. Two powerhouses is always better than one in this situation.

>KEEP FIGHTING A LITTLE LONGER, NATS!
I dunno if anyone else is on the same page, but we should pop enough skellie skulls to give ourselves some heals

that nats pic is rockin fr fr
>>
>>5363261
>THE GARAGE–GUS MUST BE TANGOING WITH THE MAGE SKELETONS! THE VAN’S THERE TOO!
Syb can handle herself, especially if Art’s with her. Mitzi and the students should be able to hold out a while longer, but Gus can’t hold off two mages on his own, even as strong as he is.

We help Gus out and secure the van, the we have an armored ticket out of here and a way to reach the others quickly. If we have their help, we can tear that mask off of Talbot and end this.
>>
>>5363261
>>5363274
>>5363273

You know what? This is smarter-- changing to this! Better if we get our wheels since Syb and Art will likely be together.
>>
>>5363277
I just hope her rage is because we were tricked and the rest of us are in danger, and not because Art kicked the bucket again, as much as we joke about it.
>>
>>5363273
Add
>KEEP FIGHTING A LITTLE LONGER, NATS!
>I dunno if anyone else is on the same page, but we should pop enough skellie skulls to give ourselves some heals

To this >>5363274

You’re right. We should grab some bones on the way over that’ll make the world of difference.

>SPOILER
Fuck yeah it is.
>>
>>5363274
>>5363290
>>5363277
>HEAD TO THE GARAGE!
>KEEP FIGHTIN', NATS!
You got it! ROLL ME 3d100'S AGAIN--I'LL TAKE BEST OF 3!

>>5363273
>Spoiler
I know I fucking love it
>>
Rolled 35, 92, 12 = 139 (3d100)

>>5363307
>>
Rolled 3, 7, 82 = 92 (3d100)

>>5363307
VROOM VROOM
>>
Rolled 85, 73, 31 = 189 (3d100)

>>5363307
They never meant any harm. At least the grave holds nothing worse for them.
>>
>>5363326
Tell Nats to use the hordes of skeletons as cover. It will limit the enemy’s angles of fire on us. At least in regards to rockets and mundane bullets. We also might want to contemplate using our double to draw some of the skeletons away once we have the van, or when Nats’ power wears off. It’s a new day, so we should be able to use it.

I also just realized that we don’t know where Lil’ Stanley is. That gives me a bad feeling.
>>
>>5363339

Inb4 Lil' Stanley is the REAL BBEG and TIM is just a figurehead.
>>
>>5363339
I was gonna bring that up, hopefully Lil Stanley won't try to bite our arm off or something.
>>
>>5363346
At least we'll know what happens if we give someone the Stan derived medicine?
>>
>>5363308
>>5363309
>>5363326
>HIGHEST ROLL: 189!
Makes sense since Nats is getting a little pooped. Writing!
>>5363342
I don't know how you got into my Story Notes, but GIT OUTTA' THERE!
>>5363346
She'll probably bite it anyways, to be honest.
>>5363339
Wild animals have a habit of running off--maybe she'll be back after the SKELETON MASSACRE? Good call on the Duplicate, too--you can absolutely use that if you don't mind not having it for the rest of the day!
>>
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https://youtu.be/2VpyUNARx5c
Watching a very pissed-off Sybil tearing into the skeletons swarming her, you make the assumption that she and the rest of the gang have seen you, for better or worse, and will have an idea of where you’re headed.

Picking up and smashing a pair of skeletons into the snow, you can sense a slowdown in Nat’s abilities, but that’s fine–she’s not out yet! Asserting your disembodied presence into her strained consciousness, you direct her to head towards the GARAGE–tough as he may be, Gus can’t handle two mages and an army of skeletons!

As if on cue, another explosion rocks the garage–one that heralds the arrival of a lot more charging skeletons! You’ve made a dent on them, you realize as Nats swings her pitchfork through a squad of riflemen, but it’s a tiny dent…

Leaping and bounding across the snow-covered battlefield and adding a few more corpses to the ground with each landing, Nats takes you towards the garage just in time to see a red-jacketed human get thrown through a shutter and onto the snow!

G-GUS!” Wails Denise as she frantically unloads a truck-mounted machine gun into a wave of approaching skeletons, “P-please!

You’re about halfway to their aid when you feel something fasten around your shared ankle–something that doesn’t let go despite Nat’s DEMON STRENGTH! Before you can determine what it is, your answer is given to you when you’re yanked out of the air and slammed into the red snow by a familiar liquid metal tendril!

Scrambling back to her feet, Nats’ dwindling energy is proven when she fails to dodge three more razor-sharp tentacles that latch into her shoulders like giant fish hooks! Taking a handful of tentacles in each hand, you and her both grit your teeth as the tendrils cut like razor wire into your palms! Fighting through the pain, the demon yanks Talbot into range and swings her pitchfork at him, but that quickly proves to be a mistake!

Catching it in another tentacle, Talbot clasps his hand around your throat and squeezes hard–hard enough that were you not currently demonified, it’d be the consistency of a deflated balloon right now!

Scratching at his glowing eyes, Nats fails to get a grip as the janitor gets to work repeatedly stabbing you in your shadowy abdomen. Black fog mixes with bloody snow as the two tangle, and as your demon struggles to break free, you feel her strength waning with every second!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5363424
Your view starts to fade along with Nat’s strength as your ex-bodyguard continues to crush your possessed throat. As you watch your demon swat at his masked face, you can’t help but wonder what’ll happen if Nats gets killed right now.

Do you die? Do you take over again and THEN die? You really should have tested this-

Before you can get your answer, something metal and cylindrical lands into the snow beside Talbot. As you, he, and a handful of opportunistic approaching skeletons turn to look at it, you get the answer to your second question: what was that?

Flash-cooking the layer of snow around you into fresh, boiling blood, the grenade trumps the roaring winds around you with a deafening BOOM that sends both Nats and Talbot tumbling down the hill!

As you struggle back to your feet, several more grenades reduce the skeletons around you into mulch! Glancing skyward, you, Nats, and Ly are all relieved to see a familiar blood-covered ginger hanging from Sybil’s pissed-off grip with a GRENADE LAUNCHER held tightly in his hands!

KEEP GOING!” Roars Art as he continues to shell the skeletons blocking you from the garage! “GO!

As Sybil dives and weaves through the hail of gunfire zeroing in on her, Nats takes the opportunity to rush Talbot as he lies face-down in the snow near you. Though a cluster of metal tentacles dart at her like snakes as she approaches, Nats uses that to her advantage and snatches them in her scratched-up claws like a handful of balloon strings!

Swinging them over her head like a lasso, she lifts Talbot free of the snow and chucks him again–this time far beyond the DRIVE-IN WALLS! With that obstacle disappearing into the blizzard, Nats rushes to assist Gus and Denise at the Garage as plumes of thick smoke escape her panting mouth!

Heralding your arrival with a shrill shriek, Denise nearly blows your head off as you come crashing into the Garage ready to fight! Realizing who you are, a relieved smile forms on her oil-covered face right when a familiar mage chucks a fireball into her turret nest–Rodhi.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5363426
Before Nats can check on her, she turns to find Gus hanging limp in the air in front of Teevor–the once-eccentric scholar now brutally impassive as he slowly bends Gus’ right arm at an impossible angle!

Interrupting with an EYE LASER, Nats’ shot vaporizes the mage’s torso and halts his torture, but his hooded head remains floating as it stares at you with its hollow glowing eyes!

The intimidation is short-lived, however–crawling out from the burning wreck of the truck she was on with charred hair and a burned face, both of Denise’s hands emit a gut-wrenching hiss as they clasp around the melted turret’s handles! Before you can stop her, the scientist lets loose a hollow, angry scream as she fires the gun’s remaining ammo at Teevor’s head and reduces it to vapor!

The victory is short-lived, however–as Nats rushes to dislodge Denise from her melted prison, Rodhi emerges from behind a truck carrying a barrel of gasoline in one telekinetic hand and a hissing, spitting fireball in the other!

Bringing the former back to chuck at you, the mage never gets the chance–groaning through the pain in his mangled arm, Gus brings his SAWN-OFF SHOTGUN to bear on the barrel and blasts it into a fireball of his own!

With the mage engulfed in the ensuing reaction, your victory is cut short when a chunk of barrel is launched from the explosion and slams into your face!

Having used most of her energy decimating at least half of the skeletons, Nats, and you, by extension, go out like a light.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5363427
“...n… …AN!”

Roused from your unexpected nap, you nearly choke when you feel something being poured down your throat! Spitting it out all over yourself and the floor, you open your weary eyes to find yourself propped against what appears to be THE VAN!

Oh th-thank GOODNESS!” Stammers Denise as she performs a quick assessment of your body with two freshly-bandaged hands made from torn-up lab coat, “Y-you came r-right in the nick of t-time, Stan…

Stumbling to your feet, you wipe the grime from your face and stagger over to the Garage entrance! How long were you out?! What’s happening?

O-only a m-minute…” The scientist stammers as you hear someone toiling away underneath the of the van! “Wh-which is why I sh-shoved marrow d-down y-your throat… th-they’re still c-coming!

Pointing a burnt, shaking finger down the hill, you immediately see what she means–despite Nat’s and Syb’s stellar performances, more skeletons approach the Garage as some already take aim with ROCKET LAUNCHERS!

A-at l-least th-they can’t use their v-vehicles…” Laughs the professor nervously, “Th-this sn-snow impacts th-them, too… h-heheh…

“Big problem for us, too.” Grunts the owner of the large shoes sticking out from underneath your ride. “Gonna be hell driving in this weather.”

Sliding out from underneath the armored van on a mechanic’s creeper is Gus–his right arm hastily done-up in some kind of exhaust pipe sling at his side. “Good save, by the way. Not outta’ the woods yet.”

No, you frown, you aren’t. Though Syb and Art continue to strafe the approaching skeletons from above, Mitzi and the film students are still MIA–as is Lil’ Stanley.

Is…” Denise mutters as a rocket flies just above the Garage roof, “Is T-Talbie okay?

You respond with a shrug–you’re working on that, but you also need to get the others. There’s a HELICOPTER at an old substation nearby–maybe if you reach tha-

“In this weather? You’d hafta’ be crazy.” Gus explains with a shake of his head before returning below the van. “Be crazy to drive, too.”

Before you can argue further, the whole machine shop is rocked by a nearby explosion–one that sends several of the hanging lights crashing to the greasy floor! Gus, you snap as you look around the shop for anything useful, can you get the van running!?

“Yep,” he groans, “can make it handle snow a little better too–just need time.”

Time’s at a premium right now, but you don’t tell him that–you’re not gonna get far without wheels, that’s for damn certain! Taking stock of the TURRETS, HOT RODS, AND OIL BARRELS around you, you hatch a plan to buy Gus some more time as the skeletons resume shelling your hideaway!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5363428
How do you slow these bastards down, anyways? You're still WIPED OUT FROM NATS, SO EXPECT PENALTIES!PICK ONE!

>LOAD UP A FEW CARS AND TRUCKS WITH GAS BARRELS AND PUSH ‘EM IN NEUTRAL DOWN THE HILL–BOOM, ROLLING BOMBS FOR YOU TO SHOOT!
>BRING A TURRETED TRUCK OUT AND OPEN FIRE–YOU’RE EXPOSED, BUT YOU’VE GOT AMMO!
>ROLL SOME OIL BARRELS AT ‘EM! THEY’RE MORE LIKELY TO BE SHOT WITHOUT CARS, BUT IT COULD BE QUICKER!
>PILOT THE REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK! IT WON’T KILL ANY OF THEM, BUT IT WILL DISTRACT THEM FOR SYB AND ART!
>GET BEHIND A TRUCK AND TAKE POTSHOTS WITH GRAMPS’ RIFLE! JUST LIKE A SHOOTING GALLERY!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5363429
>>ROLL SOME OIL BARRELS AT ‘EM! THEY’RE MORE LIKELY TO BE SHOT WITHOUT CARS, BUT IT COULD BE QUICKER!

We should have something to explode said oil barrels-- we can take out many skeletons in one go this way.
Also we need probably need another skeleton's marrow or two if we want to get back to full strength.
>>
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This'll be the last update of the night, most likely--got plans in a bit and they gonna go LAAAAAATE.

Since I can already see where the wind is blowing, just gonna warn you right now that it'll be a WHILE before Nats is ready to go DEMON BITCH again, so stay creative! You can totally regain some of your juice with marrow, though!

On another shitty note, work's gonna resume in about a week or so, so expect a drastic change in writing quality as well as update frequency. Yes, yes, right when we're approaching the grand finale, to boot. I know!

I'll probably be updating this thing SATURDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST, so hope to see you then and thank you a so much for to playing my game!
>>
>>5363435
+1. Lasering it with fire should work.
>>
>>5363435
>>5363448
Do this, but slice one of those mounted guns from their trucks with bone claws and use the motherfucker dismounted. Those guns’ volume of fire and suppressive abilities are our best bet for keeping the undead back long enough for Gus to do what he has to. We’ll tire out in melee if we can’t stop to eat enough marrow, and their sheer numbers might overwhelm us anyway.
>>
>>5363456
Hell, some of those military gun mounts are designed to be removed quickly by pulling out a metal pin or two, so that the guns can be taken in case of the vehicle being abandoned or damaged. We might not even have to cut it off.
>>
>>5363429
>BRING A TURRETED TRUCK OUT AND OPEN FIRE–YOU’RE EXPOSED, BUT YOU’VE GOT AMMO!

> HAVE DENISE PILOT THE DUUUUCK

Just bring some bones, should be plenty eh? And uh, if we're firing a turret that makes it our weapon, and we can make it have elemental flaming shots then right? I don't know how that would help (melt the blood snow into slick blood?) but it would look cool?

Should definitely have Denise pilot the duck and try to make an opening for the rest of the crew.
>>
>>5363429
>ROLL SOME OIL BARRELS AT ‘EM! THEY’RE MORE LIKELY TO BE SHOT WITHOUT CARS, BUT IT COULD BE QUICKER!
>BRING A TURRETED TRUCK OUT AND OPEN FIRE–YOU’RE EXPOSED, BUT YOU’VE GOT AMMO!
>HAVE DENISE PILOT THE DUUUUCK
>>
Disregard these
>>5363456
>>5363461
This >>5363622 should work fine. On our reason I figured to dismount the machine gun was for the sake of mobility in the garage. Less of a static target and all that.

Should we send the duck to cover Mitz and the students? At least let them know that the cavalry is on the way.
>>
>>5363622
switching to this
>>5363631
we could but probably not gonna be easy to find them in a blizzard unless the duck can see through it.
>>
>>5363635
I thought we already knew what building they were in? We saw the shots from Mitzi’s science gun.
>>
Hooo boy, that's a lotta' swapping. Well if I forget or fuck up anyone's vote just pretend I'm impersonating Stan, okay? H-here I go!

>>5363435
>ROLL DEM' BARRELS!

>>5363564
>BLAST EM WITH A TRUCK TURRET!
>GET IN THE DUUUUCK, SHIN-ERR, DENISE!

>>5363622
>>5363631
>>5363635
>ROLL OIL BARRELS!
>AND FIRE WITH A TURRET!
>AND HAVE DENISE PILOT THE DUUUCK!

Looks like triple trouble wins it--I DID say 'CHOOSE ONE,' but d'ooh, I just can't say no to you guys, now can I?

You're totally getting penalties for trying to be the fucking FLASH after Devil Trigger though, lol

ROLL ME 3d100 FOR BARRELLING, TURRETING, AND DENISE PILOTING! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Modifier breakdown is as follows and will be applied after 3 rolls:
>ROLL BARRELS: -5 (+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 BONE SPEED, -20 DEMON IGNITION FATIGUE)
>TURRET: -10 (+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, -20 DEMON IGNITION FATIGUE)
>DENISE DUCK: +5 (-5 BURNT HANDS, -5 NERVOUS (MORE THAN USUAL), +15 TECHSPERTIZE)

Good luck! And I'll definitely squeeze grabbing more BONE MARROW in the next update too, so don't fret!
>>
Rolled 2, 32, 32 = 66 (3d100)

>>5363961

LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
>>
>>5363963
FUCK
>>
Rolled 60, 97, 90 = 247 (3d100)

>>5363961
>>
Rolled 28, 32, 4 = 64 (3d100)

>>5363961

Here goes nothing. Hang in there everyone.
>>
>>5363963
>>5363968
>>5364044
>HIGHEST ROLLS:
>BARRELS: 55!
>TURRET: 87!
>DENISE AND DUCK: 95!
Writing!
>>
>>5363968
My
Man
>>
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Your head spins at all the possibilities around you–why choose one when you’ve got an army of skeletons approaching? Retrieving the REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUUUUCK and the corresponding controller from your coveralls, you chuck both at Denise’s bewildered spectacled face with a curt ‘here, catch!’

OW!
“Cripes, cupcake, what kinda throw was dat’?”
You didn’t mean to aim for her face, okay?! It must’ve gravnigated into it, or something!

Denise shoots you a quivering, pleading glance as she scoops the items off the greasy floor. “Wh-what sh-should I-

She’s gonna run interferience, you reply as you snatch up some of Rodhi’s bones and hobble towards the nearest serviceable truck with a turret on it! The red button makes a big flash of light and sound–she can use it to mess with the skeletons!

Leave it t-to me!” She nods with renewed confidence! “Remote-c-controlled things are ki-kinda my ‘b-bag!’

Sending her a reassuring thumbs up, you’re just about to gulp down some marrow when a thought occurs–while she’s up there, you add, twisting the key sitting in the truck’s ignition port, keep an eye out for Mitzi and the students–they might need some help too!

Not bothering to wait for a response, you put the truck in reverse and get ready to knock a few barrels down the hill–no way you’re moving them yourself! Try as you might, however, the vehicle remains locked in place as the acrid stench of burning rubber fills the garage! What the hell!? Did they sabotage this thi-

PARKING BRAKE!” Shouts Gus from beneath the van! Oh. Right… you knew that! Disengaging the garish red parking brake handle, you bring the truck around and get to work bumping the barrels out the open bays and down the hill towards the approaching army! It takes a bit of doing considering you’re simultaneously chugging marrow and the previous garage tenants actually stowed the fuel barrels to avoid accidents, but despite all odds you manage to send a few rolling through the rising blanket of bloody snow!

Rushing to get into a firing position, you watch as the stalwart REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK takes to the gusty skies once more! Dipping and banking erratically thanks to the blizzard, the concentration on Denise’s sweaty face tells you that the duck’s in the right hands. As you climb out of the driver’s seat and move to the gun turret, you hear a faint disembodied voice in your head:

Did… did I do good, sis?

Asking you in a tone more fitting of a sleepy toddler, the demon barely clings to consciousness as you slowly clamber onto the turret! Yea, Nats, you grunt with genuine approval, you did damn good!

Hooraaaay… gonna sleep now…

D’awww…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5364260
Drifting off into some well-deserved rest, the demon leaves you to your own high-caliber and fully-automatic devices just as you hear one of the barrels explode below–then another. And ANOTHER!

“Damn it, they’re already shooting them!”

Yea, Ly, you FIGURED! Turning the business end of the gun down the hill, you find Ly’s announcement to be totally on the mark–despite marching towards you like a horde of zombies, the skeletons aren’t stupid! As the barrels of gas slowly make their way down through the snow, the approaching army stops them dead in their tracks with their own weapons!

Oh no you don’t, assholes! Spitting into your palms and rubbing them together, you waste no more time in lighting up the hill with bullets! Rockets, skulls, torsos, you mow ‘em all down–though they seem to be more durable than before, the skeletons don’t rush for cover when you fire upon them, nor do they seem to move when your barrels get close enough to get blown up!

Sending showers of bone and liquified blood into the air, you only pause to scarf down some MAGIC BONE MARROW every few volleys!

St-STANLEY! I’ve G-GOT THEM!

Whirling to hear Denise’s report, the scientist jabs one of her bandaged hands out the garage and to the left towards the DANCE FLOOR AND ADJACENT PARKING LOT!Th-there! M-Mitzi a-and the film st-students are using the c-cars as cover! Ooh… a-and Mitzi doesn’t l-look well…

Without the screen on the duck controller, you’ll have to take her word for it. As you swivel your gun to help soften up the left side, misfortune rears its ugly head again in the form of a familiar Goth and Security Goon falling from the sky like meteorites when a rocket explodes next to them! Damn it, Art!

Splitting off into three segments, one continues to open fire on the GARAGE–specifically with rockets and other stuff you’re pretty sure gas doesn’t like!

Segment 2 splits in the direction of the PARKING LOT–no doubt moving to assist whoever’s chasing the film students!

Segment 3 heads towards Art and Syb–guess Sybil’s getting tired, huh? Not good…

Before you can decide who to help first and how, Gus gives you a welcome push in the form of a revving Van engine behind you! Turning to face the noise, you spot the gearhead giving you a thumbs up from the passenger window!

“Done! Let’s go!”

The question is, you think as Denise scrambles for the back of the van, who do you pick up first??

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5364264
Q1: WHO DO YOU PICK UP FIRST?
>MITZ AND THE FILM STUDENTS–DENISE SAID MITZI DIDN’T LOOK TOO GOOD!
>SYBIL AND ART–THEY’RE GONNA BE SITTING DUCKS IN A MINUTE!
>WRITE-IN!

Q2: WHAT DO YOU DO WITH THE TURRET?
>CUT IT FREE WITH BONE CLAWS AND GET GUS TO HELP YOU LOAD IT INTO THE BACK OF THE VAN!
>TAKE A FEW MORE SECONDS AND SPRAY INTO THE SKELETONS! TRY TO THIN ‘EM OUT A BIT MORE!
>WEIGH THE TRIGGER DOWN WITH SOMETHING AND LEAVE–IT’LL SUPPRESS THE SKELETONS ON ITS OWN!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5364267
>>MITZ AND THE FILM STUDENTS–DENISE SAID MITZI DIDN’T LOOK TOO GOOD!
>CUT IT FREE WITH BONE CLAWS AND GET GUS TO HELP YOU LOAD IT INTO THE BACK OF THE VAN!
>>
>>5364267
Gus and Denise
>SYBIL AND ART–THEY’RE GONNA BE SITTING DUCKS IN A MINUTE!
Stan
> USE THE LAST FORBIDDEN PARKOUR TECHNIQUE: SKULL RUNNING! HELP MITZI OUT!

Turret
>CUT IT FREE WITH BONE CLAWS AND GET GUS TO
>>
>>5364338
>>5364267

Switching to this. This plan is pog.
>>
>>5364338
This.

>cut it free and get Gus to
Get him to what?
>>
>>5364344
Copy and paste on a phone is hard :(
>>
>>5364349
Lmao I know that feeling dude. Been following the whole quest on a phone. I was making a dumb joke anyway.
>>
>>5364338
>>5364342
>>5364344
>GUS AND DENISE: GRAB SYB AND ART!
>TAKE THIS GUN, TOO!
STAN: DO SOMETHING REALLY COOL, BUT ALSO REALLY STUPID!

Here goes something, folks... ROLL ME 1d100+10(+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 BONE SPEED, +5 FENCER'S FEMURS, +5 BECAUSE SCREW IT--THAT WAS A SMART WRITE-IN, -15 DEMON FATIGUE!) I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 74 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5364360
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
>>
Rolled 8 + 10 (1d10 + 10)

>>5364360
>>
Rolled 74 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5364367
forgot a 0
>>
Alright, feel free to roll again--doing alright so far, just need one more roll!
>>
Rolled 94 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5364505
NO ONES NO ONES NO ONES
>>
Rolled 12 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5364360
Few creatures possess the fury of a raccoon/demon/skeleton scorned.
>>
>>5364363
>>5364369
>>5364511
>HIGHEST ROLL: 104!!!
That'll do'er, you crazy bastards! Writing!
>>5364514
True. There will be a RECKONING!
>>
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You’re not 100% yet–the aches and pains in your muscles and bones do a damn good job of informing you. Still, you reason as you watch the skeletons divide and attempt to conquer, something in your gut tells you that you can’t choose one or the other here–you’ve gotta rescue EVERYONE!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPZRb4_G7sc
Carving the turret off its welded stand with a swipe of your BONE CLAWS, you snap your fingers at Gus and point to the turret–get this thing in the back of the van and go grab the lovebirds!

B-b-but what about y-you?!” Denise asks as you dump all the marrow you can find down your gullet like a pledge at a frat party!

I, you begin as you place your sunglasses over your eyes, am gonna do a little PARKOUR! Before she can ask what the hell you mean by that, you topple a nearby barrel and roll it towards an open bay door! Hopping on as it gains momentum down the slightly-melted hill, you charge down the hill towards your friends on the barrel like a mighty steed!

Your swift legs only make the barrel descend faster as the skeletons realize what you’re planning. Weaving between a second blizzard of bullets and rockets, you ready your CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION as you reach the foot of the hill! Leaping at the last moment, you fire the shotgun into the oil barrel and ride the explosion up and over the skeleton’s heads!

Watching you soar with neutral, glowing eyes, you’re pretty certain that were they in their right minds they’d all be thinking this was pretty bitchin’ right about now! Unimpressed, the skeletons below fill your flight path with even MORE bullets and tongues of flame from their flamethrowers!

Singling those cocky bastards out first, you swap out your shotgun with POP’S REPEATER RIFLE and start taking mid-air potshots at their back-mounted tanks. Like undead bombs they explode with only a faint whistling of gas heralding their demise, and using the building chaos in their emotionless ranks, you pick an unlucky skull and land on it with a quiet ‘squeak!’ of your rubber boots!

Channeling all of your PARKOUR TRAINING (A.K.A all of those vids you watched on MeTube), you leap and bound from pompadour to helmet to skull, planting repeater rounds into heads as you travel! Though they reach and swipe for your legs, you’re just too damn quick for the brainwashed boneheads, and just when it feels like you’re pushing your luck, you see them: a handful of hoodie-wearing students rushing from cover to cover as it’s swiftly blown apart by skeleton rocketeers and grenadiers!

STAAAN!” Shouts Eddie as he notices you approaching, “DOWN HERE!

While he and Kiki fend off the approaching army with their revolver and machine gun respectively, a very tired Tucker fireman carries a bloodied and beaten Mitzi on his back!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5364646
Not keen on wasting any more time, you leap onto another skeleton, one clad in a very garish Hawaiian shirt, no less, and tackle him to the snow. Your PARKOUR cravings sated for now, you instead kick off the sanguine slush and sled down the hill through the blizzard towards where you last saw your friends.

Say what you will about the storm, it doesn’t make the skeleton’s aim any better. Serpentining just in case, you skid to a halt in front of the gang and dutifully stick your BONE CLAWS through the skeleton’s dome.

“Tell me we’re leaving!” Tucker huffs with remarkably less composure than usual as Kiki sprays a hail of bullets into your pursuers!

We’re leaving, you nod before turning to examine Mitzi. Though her armor is more or less intact, bits of the ceramic are chipped off and some of the heavy fabric is burned away too, revealing several hastily-bandaged wounds. Blinking lazily beneath her blood-flecked hair, the Rent-A-Cop sluggishly moves her head to look at you.

Hey, bos-” Even those two whispered words send her into a coughing fit, one that makes you think twice about talking to her any more.

“She took a few hits getting us outta there.” Tucker explains as you both follow Eddie to another car while Kiki provides covering fire. “I’ve been trying to patch them up, but they’re bullet wounds, not cuts...”

As Kiki moves to join you, a trio of rockets impact into the ground between cover, sending the pint-sized student flying backwards across the pavement! Landing on her shoulder, she still manages to return fire as Eddie abandons you to retrieve her!

Okay, you nod as you fire a rocket of your own into the approaching horde, can he fix her, though? He knows First Aid!

“I can try,” Tucker huffs as he moves to shield Mitzi from the brunt of the blizzard, “But I can’t promise anything… and I definitely won’t be able to while we’re being shot at!”

Another explosion rips the car you’re hiding behind apart, thankfully ignoring you, but also forcing everyone to move deeper into the lot. Proceeding with caution, you nearly walk into a bullet when one streaks across the lot and past your freckled face! Thankfully you know exactly where it came from, and after firing a ROCKET at the nearby guard tower, you don’t run into any more problems!

Okay, you nod, just sit tight–Gus and Denise are gonna grab Art and Syb, and then-

Before you can finish, your explanation finishes itself–from off in the distance you hear the sound of a mighty engine roaring across the blizzard along with the report of a familiar mounted turret. They’re close!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5364649
“Just a little bit longer, right!?” Eddie asks as he and Kiki rejoin you, Tucker, and Mitz! “Because man I’m over this snow!”

JUST GOTTA HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER! ROLL ME 1d100+5 (+5 BACKUP, +5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 SICK ENTRANCE, -10 DEMON IGNITION FATIGUE, -5 TUCKER CARRYING MITZI) TO NOT DIE! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 58 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5364653
DONTFAILDONTFAIL
>>
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Rolled 71 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5364649
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
>>
>>5364653
Worst case scenario: Mitzi gets to become a Stan-serum test subject!
>>
Rolled 64 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5364700
Losing my friggin dice in the heat of battle.

Pic related: when we catch up to Tim
>>
Shit, forgot about some plans tonight--will update later tonight or on Sunday, probably! Sorry for the sudden disappearance and thanks for playing!
>>
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>>5364708
I stole your pic fren.
>>
>>5364841
Enjoy. Use it wisely.
>>
>>5364677
>>5364691
>>5364708
>HIGHEST ROLL: 76!
Sorry again about the sudden disappearance last night--totally slipped my mind! Writing!
>>
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Hunkering down next to Kiki and Eddie, the latter shoots you a reassuring, if not somewhat forced smile as you continue to plink away at the approaching hordes! Despite their superior numbers, you notice that they’re far more robotic in their approach to murdering you–a small blessing, you think as you hear the roaring engine approach from beyond the hill, but a blessing nonetheless.

“Here they come!” Tucker announces as Kiki clears the path with her machine gun! As you prepare to help Tucker with Mitz, your extraction is put on hold when you notice it’s not your vehicle cresting the hill above you, nor is it just ONE.

Locked in a tight formation are about five hot rods–each filled to the brim with skeletons carrying rockets, rifles, and flamethrowers! As they spray the latter in the air, you blanch at who you see leading the charge in the front car’s driver’s seat: an all-too-familiar skeleton wearing a denim jacket and a cigarette hanging loosely from his unmoving mouth.

Your moment of hesitation gives them all the time they need to skid down the hill towards you, and it’s only after Kiki violently shakes your shoulder with a pleading look on her face that you get back into action. Drawing your ROCKET LAUNCHER in slightly-trembling hands, you aim the sights at Cliff as he and his posse swerve to make themselves difficult targets.

One truck explodes when Eddie bullseyes the driver. Another flips when Kiki bisects a whole wheel from the rest of the car. With three still rushing towards you, you swallow the growing lump in your throat as you let your payload fly towards the leading vehicle.

He doesn’t even try to dodge it.

Watching you with his hollow, glowing eyes, you don’t get anything out of Cliff as he and his entourage erupt into a burst of flames and debris. With the front car down, the other two split up to flank you as even more skeletons arrive to replace the fallen!

“C’mon, Stan…” Eddie mutters as he gently pulls you by the shoulder, “Gotta move…”

Right, you nod, still adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions. You said it yourself: you’ll have time to mourn later, but still-

As if finishing your thought, THE VAN flies over the hill guns-a-blazin’ as Gus lays on the horn! Seeing a cornucopia of spells being hurled out the back too, you quickly come to the conclusion that yes, they picked up Syb at least!

Skidding to a halt next to you, Gus hastily slaps the driver’s side door as the hot rods swoop in for the kill! “Let’s GO!

Helping Tucker load Mitzi into the back past the turret, you rap your knuckles on the side when everyone’s in and blast off!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5365386
“Ha-HA!” Eddie announces as he clambers across the back of the van to the RIP KORD CUTOUT, “I knew we’d make it! We’ve got the STUNTMAESTRO lookin’ out for us!”

FOCUS!” Roars a bloody and distraught-looking Sybil as she runs her hand through a comatose Art’s hair near the back.

C-could someone pl-please t-take over!!?” Yowls Denise as she bounces up and down with every bullet the turret fires! “I th-think my f-fillings are c-coming loose..

Kiki, you command, take over! Denise, help Tucker with Mitz-

AND ART!” Snaps Syb! “H-he got shot because of me… he’s…”

“Just take a deep breath while I get settled in, okay?” Tucker replies in a voice straining to stay calm. “Denise, track down the First Aid kit, please, and any stuff we can tear into bandages.”

As the scientist nods in assent, she and Tucker are both nearly flung out the open van doors as your ride nearly tips over taking an especially-sharp turn!

“And less of that shit, if you can!” Tucker adds in a less-patient tone!

“Sorry–giving Kiki some breathing room.” Replies Gus in the usual monotone.

“Wait a sec–your BIKE, Gus! Where is it!?”

Glancing back at Eddie for a fraction of a second, the delivery man’s face remains unflappable as you smash through a line of skeletons on the road.

“... it’ll be fine.”

Taking up shop next to Kiki, you, her, and Eddie make short work of the hot rod tailing you and even a few motorcycles as well! Having reduced your immediate pursuers to scrap, you find yourself staring at the torn-up remains of the Drive-In until you feel another tap on your shoulder!

“Erm, Gus wants to know where we’re goin.’” Eddie explains in an apologetic tone.

“And I STILL need to treat these two.” Tucker adds pointedly.

“There’s a chance they didn’t hear da’ plan yesterday, kid.” Ly reminds you over the sound of a gently snoring demon behind him, “where we headed?”

Well, you begin, hanging onto the side of the van as it tries to stay steady on the snow-covered roads,

>THERE’S A SUBSTATION WITH A HELICOPTER NEARBY–THAT MIGHT COME IN HANDY!
>FIND SOMEWHERE SECLUDED FOR A SECOND–WE NEED TO BREATHE AND FIGURE SHIT OUT!
>THE LODGE IS UNDER ATTACK–WE NEED TO HELP THEM OUT WHILE WE STILL CAN!
>THE UNIVERSITY IS FAR, BUT MAYBE WE CAN GET SOME SUPPORT THERE?
>THIS SHIT’S GONE ON LONG ENOUGH–WE’RE HEADING FOR CITY HALL AND THAT PORTAL TO THE FLYING FORTRESS. NOW!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5365389
>THE UNIVERSITY IS FAR, BUT MAYBE WE CAN GET SOME SUPPORT THERE?
At least we might be able to leave the wounded with them
>>
>>5365389
>THE UNIVERSITY IS FAR, BUT MAYBE WE CAN GET SOME SUPPORT THERE?
>>
>>5365409
>>5365424
>TO THE UNIVERSITY!
Writing!
>>
We might want to drop off Stan somewhere, Talbot is coming in hot no doubt and that's a fight we don't want happening near wounded.
>>
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You’re going to the UNIVERSITY, you announce after a moment’s thought.

“Got it.” Gus replies as he takes the van towards the main gates. “Hold on tight–gonna get bumpy.”

“The COLLEGE!?” Eddie asks as his optimism quickly morphs into disbelief! “That’s all the way across town, Sta-”

And you don’t want to bring Mitzi and Art into the crossfire if they can’t fight, you snarl! It ain’t up for debate!

“I think it should be!” Eddie fires back with renewed vigor! “We’re driving in a blood blizzard, the stupid school’s probably overrun by now, and we barely survived that shit back th-”

“Here goes.”

With a sudden buzz, the VAN is enveloped in a SHIMMERING ORB as Gus activates the FORCE FIELD!

“Forgot we had that…” Tucker remarks as he moves to assess Art’s injuries next to a crestfallen Sybil.

As bullets plink off it like raindrops against a tin roof, the engine roars like a lion as Gus kicks the van into TURBODRIVE! You and your pals barely have time to cling to the sides of the van before it CRASHES through the front gates in a chorus of squealing and smashing metal!

Barely clinging to the snow capped mountain road, the van teeters on two tires until Gus gives the wheel a definitive twist! Landing on all-fours again with a triumphant thud, the delivery man turns to give you a nod. “Alright, keep goin’.”

“As I was saying,” Eddie continues, “We’d be wasting our time if-”

“I can patch these guys up, Ed, I can’t fix them.” Tucker asks with growing irritation in his voice. “Not with a First Aid kit, at least.”

“And what happens if we get there and there’s no one left, huh!?” Counters Eddie! “What about the MEDICAL WING in that bunker!? They-”

It’s overrun, you interrupt! All of it is!

“Oh GREAT!” Groans the film student, “So what makes the college any different, huh? W-”

“Are you seriously that worried about running into your ex again!?” Tucker growls, forming a glare on Eddie’s face.

“Fuck. You.”

Tucker’s face goes pale as he immediately realizes what he said. “I’m sorry, Ed, that just came ou-”

FUCK. YOU.

To make matters worse, Art adds a sudden coughing fit into the heated discussion, prompting Sybil’s eyes to light up with those familiar blue flames… As the atmosphere in the back of the van heats up, you realize that this might require some direct intervention…

What do?
>FINE, WE’LL GO SOMEWHERE ELSE! EDDIE MIGHT HAVE A POINT!
>WE’RE GOING TO THE UNIVERSITY AND THAT’S FINAL!
>EVERYONE CALM DOWN, DAMN IT!
>OKAY, LET’S JUST SPLIT UP THEN!
WRITE-IN!
>>
> TUCKER, MITZ, ART, GUS, DENISE
Get help for our wounded and find somewhere to hunker in the college.
> EVERYONE WILLING
Set an ambush for Talbot. He's a coming. We either save him or kill him, but we can't have him on our ass the whole way to city hall.
> ANYONE ELSE
Do whatever. Tell Syb it's ok if she wants to stick with Art.
>>
>>5365507
This seems solid enough for me. I would rather we stick around long enough to know if either of the two, Mitz or Art, need that bone-marrow dose (hell, we might be able to split it), but we maybe could leave it with one of them with the instructions to use it as a last resort, and to tie whoever they use it on up.
>>
>>5365513

Definitely all of this as well. The dose should be on Art's person. Hopefully this doesn't end with Art dying because we have to put him down ourselves. Maybe splitting the dose is enough to stabilize both of them but not enough to get them back on their feet?
>>
>>5365521
You can certainly try to split it!
>>
>>5365507
>>5365513
>>5365521
>SPLIT UP!
>TUCKER, MITZ, ART, GUS TO UNIVERSITY!
>EVERYONE WILLING (LOL SO BASICALLY JUST EDDIE) HELP WITH AMBUSH
>ANYONE ELSE DO WHATEVER
>ALSO TELL THEM ABOUT SERUM AND MAYBE SPLITTING IT?

Writing!
>>
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You don’t have to be a mime reader to see what’s going on here. Slamming your fist into the side of the van to get everyone’s attention, you take a long, hard breath before continuing in a measured voice:

The world’s about to end, damn it, and you’re not about to let it happen because everyone’s testy! Here’s how things are gonna go:

Gus, Tucker, Denise: you three will be heading to the UNIVERSITY to try and get some help.

“Bu-”

No buts, you snap, cutting Tucker off before he can get into it, he said it himself: Art and Mitz won’t bounce back without real help!

Everyone else, you continue as you glance between Eddie and Kiki, can roll with you!

“Roll where?” Asks Eddie with renewed interest. Well in case he didn’t notice, you snarl, Talbot’s gone. They’ve got three chances to guess what happened!

“Oh shit...” He mutters as Kiki looks at you with sympathy.

“Stan, I’m sor-”

It’s okay, Syb, you reply in a solemn tone as you squint past the blizzard towards the treeline bordering the road, you’re going after him, one way or another… and that’s what you need help with. That, you conclude with a drawn-out sigh, and everything that comes after.

“Count me in.” Eddie volunteers almost immediately. “I ain’t letting you do it alone.”

“Stan,” Sybil continues, “I can still fight-”

No, you frown, shaking your head, they’re gonna need her at the college. Art’s gonna need her, you add with purpose.

“... Very well.” Replies Sybil with a hint of gratitude in her quiet voice. “Thank you, Stanley.”

Eagerly raising her MACHINE GUN in the air, Kiki gives you a nod through her thick bangs. Guess she’s got your back.

One more thing, you add as Gus quietly scans the road for a suitable turn-off, you got something from DR.DEVON last time you visited THE LODGE–something that might help Art and Mitz.

“Well shit, hand it over!” Tucker asks impatiently!

It’s not that simple, you counter as you retrieve the BONE SERUM from your pocket and show it to the van, this stuff will give whoever takes it your HEALING, STRENGTH, AND SPEED, but there’s one big problem…

“Only one dose.” Eddie remarks with a frown. “Coulda’ been real useful about an hour ago-”

And it’s got TIM’S ESSENCE in it, okay!? you shout, shutting the entire van’s traps in one yell! It’s why Talbot spent all morning trying to kill you and will probably give him full access to whoever takes it too! How’s THAT for a reason, Ed!?

“Still,” Tucker replies in a measured voice, “It could be useful… as a last resort…”

Yea, you nod as you slowly catch your breath, that’s why you’re giving it to them!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5365581
Handing the serum off to Sybil, you give her a gentle pat on her pale shoulder before shrugging. It… maybe if they split the dose between the two-

“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” Sybil sighs as she caresses Art’s hair once more.

Yea, you nod, hopefully. Drop us off here, Gus.

Silently acquiescing, the delivery man delivers you to the side of the winding road where you disembark into a mound of red snow.

Th-there seems to b-be no end to this pr-precipitation…” Shivers Denise as she looks skyward behind her cracked glasses. “I-if it continues we m-may become cut off fr-from each other…

“Gotta hurry before it piles up.” Gus remarks as he gives the van door a few knocks. Right, you blink, say, can someone lend a RADIO? Your last one got busted.

W-with my compliments…” Denise quickly replies, forcing a smile as she hands you hers along with your REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK. “S-s-same fr-frequency?

Yep, you say with a grateful nod! Alright, folks, you add as you stuff the radio into your pocket, watch your asses out there!

“With pleasure!” Eddie remarks as he hops out the back of the van and into the snowpile next to you!

“Keek… Ed,” Tucker mutters as he looks up from feeding Mitzi some water with an apologetic look on his face, “... be careful, yea?”

Kiki nods in assent as Eddie gives his roommate a long, hard stare. “... yea, you too, Tuck.”

Giving the two a strained smile, Tucker resumes his care as Sybil sends a grateful look your way. In complete contrast, Gus gives you a quick wave out the driver’s side window before sending the van screaming down the mountain towards town!

“Well,” Eddie sighs as the three of you stand in the middle of the road like a trio of very confused hitchhikers, “Let’s make it happen, yea?”

Q1: WHERE DO YOU SET UP YOUR AMBUSH?
>ON THE ROAD–EASY TO SEE PEOPLE APPROACHING, BUT LITTLE COVER!
>RIGHT BEFORE A SHARP TURN–LOW COVER, BUT YOU’LL HAVE THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE IF SOMEONE COMES!
>IN THE TREES–MORE COVER FOR YOU AND TALBOT, BUT LESS LIKELY TO INVITE ANOTHER SKELETON PATROL!
>WRITE-IN!

Q2: HOW DO YOU AMBUSH?
>BUILD UP SOME SNOW SHELTERS AND WAIT INSIDE–TALBOT WON’T KNOW EXACTLY WHERE YOU’RE HIDING!
>HIDE IN THE TREES NEAR THE ROAD–YOU’LL HAVE THE VERTICAL ADVANTAGE!
>PLACE TALBOT’S JOURNAL OUT SOMEWHERE NOTICEABLE–MAYBE IT’LL JAR SOMETHING?
>STAY OUT IN THE OPEN AS BAIT WHILE KIKI AND EDDIE HIDE NEARBY!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5365584
>RIGHT BEFORE A SHARP TURN–LOW COVER, BUT YOU’LL HAVE THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE IF SOMEONE COMES!
I'm afraid that Talbot could effectively move in the trees with his tentacles

>STAY OUT IN THE OPEN AS BAIT WHILE KIKI AND EDDIE HIDE NEARBY!
>Also, give Eddie something harder hitting than a revolver from our inventory.
Pastebin is blocked at my workplace for some reason, so I can't point to a specific item. But a good choice would be something that can immobilize or blind Talbot.
>>
>>5365584
>IN THE TREES–MORE COVER FOR YOU AND TALBOT, BUT LESS LIKELY TO INVITE ANOTHER SKELETON PATROL!
Talbot knows where we are at all times. It’s essentially pointless to try and surprise him beyond trying to trick him into thinking we aren’t aware of his presence, but he isn’t exactly subtle when he chases us. The trees provide the best cover for Eddie and Keek to use. What we need to do is find a spot in the woods that has a decent clearing, or a ravine or dip in the landscape. That combined with the snowstorm will make us almost impossible for the skeletons to spot, and provided Keek and Eddie stay at the edge of said clearing/ravine/depression, they can stay out of his range and still have decent cover. He would slaughter both of them in melee, so it would just be us. We need to make sure they limit themselves to short bursts or shots or to draw his attention. If Bones will allow it, we might even be able to use our FRAYED FISHING NET and ROPE LADDER to set up a net trap. It definitely won’t restrain him for good, but it just might buy us enough time to rip that mask from his face, or at least wave his journal in his face. Failing that, we can go for the cliche of a kiss.

So I’m gonna go with
>STAY OUT IN THE OPEN AS BAIT WHILE KIKI AND EDDIE HIDE NEARBY!

If we’re smart, we can crouch out in the semi-open and pretend to wrap bandages around ourself, or something to that effect. Make it believable.

Captcha: SMARDT
>>
>>5365584
>>5365629

Damn I like this option. Support!
>>
>>5365623
>Pastebin is blocked at my workplace for some reason, so I can't point to a specific item. But a good choice would be something that can immobilize or blind Talbot.

I’m on your wavelength, brother.

I also realized looking in the pastebin, that Tucker had a tranq rifle with him. I’m not sure how useful it would have been, but I really fucking wish we would have grabbed it. Unless bones might be willing to retcon that oversight…. We also have that tactical flashlight. It’s not much, but we may be able to blind him with it for a few moments.
>>
>>5365584
I got a question, Bones. What exactly does that MAGIC TRACKING BOLT WAND Eddie has do?
>>
>>5365629

Support and my two dollars of thoughts....

Let's open by beaming him with that goo covered rock we got by nailing him in the face. Maybe since it's covered in his good it'll pierce his defences. If nothing else it's strongly linked to a memory of us.

Let's lead in melee with his own goo mop as well, remind him of our sacred Evening Sanitation bond, then hit him with the journal.

Then yeah, at the final moments let our cap fall off, bunny ears pop, and kiss him. Cliches exist for a reason! And hey, worst case it might squick Tim, he's basically a big nerd.

Let's also cycle elements on our mop as we fight, goo metal might be weak or disrupted by one of them, my money is on electricity or magic.
>>
Do we still have that spare 100 from that one Mendoza thread in case something goes REALLY, REALLY awry?
>>
>>5365665

I think that was in the Mermaid domain. You know, if that's the case we really ought to save for in case things get uh...

green
>>
>>5365659
This is all good thinking. Bean him with the rock and use his own mop against him.

>Let's also cycle elements on our mop as we fight, goo metal might be weak or disrupted by one of them, my money is on electricity or magic.
Electricity sounds like it’s right on the money. Goodboynium is supposed to be metallic.
>>
Oh shit, I ran off and this blew up! Okay, lemme answer a few questions before calling the vote in case people wanna switch around... sorry about that!

>>5365629
I will DEF allow the FRAYED FISHING NET and ROPE LADDER, just expect a roll to get it set up!

>>5365636
Since I'm terrible at managing inventory both in real life AND this quest, I'll say for the sake of creativity that YES, you have the TRANQ RIFLE to use as you see fit! Thanks for reminding me and sorry for not giving it to your guys earlier--it's always the smallest stuff... Flashlight could work too!

>>5365644
It fires a weak homing bolt of magic at the target--like Sybil's ARCANE BOLT, but a chaser!

>>5365665
YEP. The question is when will you use it? Hmmm...

>>5365671
Electricity is definitely worth a shot!

Hopefully that answers everything! Here's what I need from you now: for the sake of organization, please repost/post an updated vote or support after this message just so that I know you guys have read it. I'll check back in a bit and go from there.

Good luck and GREAT thinking!
>>
>>5365684
Alright, then the only thing I’d have to add to all the above is that we give Eddie that Tranq gun.
>>
>>5365684

Yeah I'll go with this
>>
Alrighty, here goes something, I guess! Let's see if I've got your order correct here:

>>>5365629
>>5365633
>>5365659
>>5365696
>>5365704
>IN THE TREES
>STAY OUT AS BAIT AND KIKI/EDDIE NEARBY!

And for the specifics...
>WHIP UP TRAP WITH FISHING NET AND ROPE LADDER
>EDDIE ROCKS THE TRANQ GUN
>PRETEND TO BE BANDAGING SELF
>OPEN BY BEANING HIM WITH GOO ROCK
>ELECTRIC GOO MOP, BUT ALSO JOURNAL
>FINAL MOMENTS CAP FALL OFF AND KISS

Hoooo boy, okay. Awesome planning so get ready for some tasty, tasty BONEuses when rolling happens! Gonna set things up first, though. Writing!
>>
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Yes, you nod as you motion your team off the road and towards the treeline, let’s.

It’s slow-going tromping through the blizzard, especially for someone not accustomed to the cold such as yourself. Fighting the cold draining away your energy and the winds pushing you back, you fight on deeper into the redwoods until you come to a small clearing–one marked by a small promontory that juts out over the center. That’ll do nicely, you nod approvingly.

“Hey, uh…” Eddie mutters as you begin rummaging through your pockets, “Before we start, there’s something I wanted to-”

Here, you interrupt as you chuck both your FRAYED FISHING NET AND ROPE LADDER onto the ground next to you, take that rope and rig up a quick net–it doesn’t have to catch the guy, but it needs to slow him down! Right there in the middle!

“Y-yea! Sure thing!” As he and Kiki start setting up the snare, you rifle through your belongings and start putting aside two other items: first, TALBOT’S JOURNAL. Holding the stained, leather-covered notebook in your gloved fingers, a sigh escapes your mouth as you look at it. There weren’t many entries left, of course, but you never gave it back to the guy.

Next comes the GOODBOYNIUM-COVERED ROCK–the one you beaned the big oaf with and sent him tumbling into the sea. As the goo reacts to your touch, you feel a faint smile form on your face.

“So,” Eddie continues as the two film students work fast despite the weather, “I wanted to apologize for earlier.”

You’re not the one he oughta’ be apologizing to, you reply coldly as you hand your TRANQUILIZER RIFLE to him. He’ll be using this, by the way.

“Err, thanks.” Taking the rifle off your hands, he checks its magazine before loading it back up again. “It’s, uh… it’s not because of my ex, by the way. Don’t know why the hell Tucker ALWAYS has to go there, but-”

Stuffing the aforementioned items into your belt for easy access, you turn to face Eddie when it dawns on you that he isn’t gonna drop this. Eddie, you hiss, this isn’t the time t-

That’s when you hear it. It’s a faint sound, of course–one that you might not have heard if you hadn’t turned to speak to Eddie–one that barely reaches above the sound of howling wind and distant gunfire, but it reaches all the same:

Twigs breaking.

“Guessing that’s no deer…” The film student remarks as you draw your GOODBOYNIUM MOP and stuff it up your sleeve. Nope.

As Kiki and Eddie silently dart for cover on the ledge above the clearing, you take your position in the center of it. Idly wrapping a cloth around your arm that you took from the first aid kit, you scan the treeline like a hawk as the two film students ready the rope for the snare near you.

He doesn’t make you wait long.

>CONTD.
>>
>>5365740
ROLL ME 3d100 FOR THE FOLLOWING! I’LL ADD BONEUSES AFTER THE ROLLS!
1) FOR THE TRAP SUCCESS +5 (-5 FLIMSY MATERIALS, -5 TALBOT’S STRENGTH, +5 CONCEALED, +5 ELEMENT OF SURPRISE, +5 GOOD PLANNING)
2) FOR EDDIE’S AIM WITH THE TRANQ RIFLE! +5 (+5 GOOD PLANNING, +5 IN COVER, +5 SURPRISE, -5 WANDERING MIND, -5 COLD)
3) FOR YOUR OPENING SHOT WITH THE GOO ROCK! +15 (+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 SURPRISE, +5 GOOD PLANNING, -5 COLD)
I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 51, 41, 40 = 132 (3d100)

>>5365741
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
>>
I love it when we get shit done over here.

Pic shamelessly stolen from the ancient Shadow Quest
>>
Rolled 41, 76, 55 = 172 (3d100)

>>5365741
Ah, shit. Here we go again.
>>
>>5365748
Fuckin' lol. Haven't seen too much arguing over waifus, thankfully, or husbandos for that matter, so I'll take that as a win!
>>
>>5365748
>>5365751

I think there was a secret StanMitz shipper that lost his shit when he realized the players weren't cool with Stan going lesbo and chimped out cause he was late to the vote where Stan gave Talbot his first hug/kiss/whatever during the cowpoke arc.

So yeah, if we're speaking relative to that arc, it's pretty accurate.
>>
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While we wait for roll #3...
>>
Rolled 22, 31, 8 = 61 (3d100)

>>5365741

Deep breath.
>>
>>5365744
>>5365750
>>5365773
IT IS DONE! Let's see what we've got here in the ole' basket...

>HIGHEST ROLL (NET SNARE): 56!
>HIGHEST ROLL (EDDIE AIM): 81!
>HIGHEST ROLL (GOO ROCK): 70!

Not bad in the least! Got plans in about an hour, so this might be the last update, but we'll see! Writing!
>>
>>5365755
Yeah, I remember that. Fun times. To be fair to that fella, Mitzi would have been my second choice. Talbot just makes a whole lot more sense.
>>
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You see the tentacles before anything else–bursting from the treeline like vipers, you stand your ground, but duck to the side as a trio embed themselves into the side of the ledge next to you and bore a trio of deep holes into its surface! Ripping back out in an attempt to snag you, you dive to the ground just in time to avoid the shower of debris and being caught! Keeping your self positioned between the tendril’s origin and the snare prepared by your pals, you shout for Talbot to come on out–you know he’s there, WUSS!
https://youtu.be/POjZyOdYAx8
What comes, however, isn’t Talbot… not anymore, at least. Emerging from the bloody blizzard like a predator on the hunt, a gaunt figure wrapped in a mess of pulsating metallic tendrils descends from the treetops like a spider with hollow, glowing eyes that bore into you like burning drills!

Tentacles extended like mattocks, the skeleton slams his metallic appendages into the ground upon landing–thankfully you had the foresight and the energy to dodge out of the way first! As he sends a few more after you, you give Kiki and Eddie the go-ahead before diving through the flailing appendages! Yanking their rope, the net buried beneath the bloody snow snags Talbot’s foot upon moving, causing him to tumble just as he sends an EYE LASER carving through the trees adjacent to you!

Momentarily toppled, the beast wastes no time in tearing the snare to pieces with a few more tendrils as you get into position away from Eddie and Kiki! He’s just about to follow the rope back to its origin when you ready the GOO-COVERED ROCK, and by the time he realizes what’s going on you’ve already chucked it at his foul mask!

A forest of tentacles rises to stop the projectile, but something about the Goodboynium gives them pause–stopping short of swatting it out of the air, the tendrils freeze as the projectile hits him square in the face, causing Talbot to reel in surprise!

Seeing his chance, Eddie opens fire from above with his TRANQ RIFLE–sending dart after dart towards the stunned figure’s body! Though the first volley plinks off of his skin, a few lucky rounds sail into chinks in his armor!

Hissing in anger, the ex-janitor wrenches two mighty trees free from the ground and chucks them both in Eddie’s direction! Struggling to dodge the flying firs, the film student half-stumbles, half-falls away from the attack and down the hill!

Talbot sees his chance. Before you can intervene, he sends a wave of tentacles rushing towards the downed student!

>CONTD.
>>
>>5365812
ROLL ME 3d100 ONCE MORE! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
1) +10 INTERCEPTING THE TENTACLES WITH YOUR MOP! (+5 BONE SPEED, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 TRANQ’D, -5 COLD, -5 MANY TENTACLES)
2)0 FOR KIKI TO OPEN FIRE! (+5 LOTTA BULLETS, +5 TRANQ'D, -5 COLD, -5 GOODBOYNIUM ARMOR)
3)+15 TO GO ON THE OFFENSIVE (+5 BONE SPEED, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 ELECTRICITY, +5 TRANQ'D, -5 COLD, -5 GOODBOYNIUM ARMOR)
>>
Rolled 67, 26, 29 = 122 (3d100)

>>5365815
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
>>
Rolled 57, 22, 68 = 147 (3d100)

>>5365815
CMON STAN GIVE EM A KISS
>>
>>5365815
He recognized the rock. We might actually be onto something again.
>>
Rolled 73, 52, 44 = 169 (3d100)

>>5365867
God
Damn
Dice
>>
Alright, folks--got plans in a bit so that's the last update for tonight! Got work shit to do tomorrow, too, so don't expect the next update until MONDAY AROUND 3-4PM PST! Might be earlier than that, but we'll see what happens!
>>
>>5365812
>>5365872
Might not have the chance to post again, so here's a gameplan that might work.

Pelt Talbot with snowballs or one gigantic snowball, use Laser Eyes with Fire for Heatvision to turn up the temperature around enough to melt the snow, and then use Laser Eyes with Lightning to fry him.
>>
>>5365974

No idea how conductive blood is, but presumably everyone present is fucking drenched from the blizzard. Heavy snowfall is every bit as bad as rain when it comes to being wet, and Talbot has to be producing a solid amount of heat. Lightning lazer eye is pretty fucking awesome to think about though. And it's Talbot's own eye, a further symbol of our relationship.
>>
>>5365997

Water component in blood conducts electricity, senpai
>>
>>5365817
>>5365860
>>5365868
THE COUNT, GENTLEANONS:
>INTERCEPTION: 83!
>KIKI: 52!
>ON THE ATTACK: 83!
Writing! Sorry, had an errand to run after work!
>>
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Oh no you DON’T, you snarl as you rush to intercept him! Sending a few tendrils your way too, Talbot’s attempt at a twofer is thwarted as you leap onto the approaching appendages and use them to boost yourself over to Eddie!

You couldn’t have asked for a better hit–well, maybe you could have, but you’re a little busy right now! Clubbing them all to the side with the help of your trusty GOO MOP, a small bell starts to ring in the dark recesses of your mind as you watch Talbot make no effort to dodge!

“Da’ GOO!” Ly observes as you parry the tentacles away long enough for Eddie to scurry away, “He ain’t reactin’ to it!”

Before you can respond with a hearty ‘DUH’, Talbot abandons the tentacle approach in favor of just leaping at you with his elongated arms stretched out towards your face! At least, that’s what it seems like, but as you beat a hasty retreat by running up the cliff wall you’re currently up against, you’re ambushed by even more sharp appendages bursting from beneath the snow! Tricky bastard!

Not one to be forgotten, Kiki does one of the things she does best and fills your assailants full of burning lead from above! Though it doesn’t manage to tear them all apart, it does give you the distraction you need to head up the cliff and backflip over Talbot’s tentacle-riddled head! Letting gravity do the work, you slam your GOO MOP into his skull as you fall to the ground, filling the area with a resounding ‘CLANG!

Stumbling to his knees from the force of the blow, Talbot wastes no time in sweeping the area around him with a mess of tentacles that send you, Eddie, and even Kiki flying backwards!

Landing with a thud against a snow-covered stump, you feel the wind get knocked out of you as your opponent immediately rushes to eviscerate you! Struggling to recover your breath, you fish the JOURNAL from your belt and hold it up to the charging janitor!

Maybe it’s the hit you landed on his head, maybe it’s the tranquilizer darts doing their job, or maybe T really still is in there, but whatever the reason, he slows down a bit as he sees the notebook dangling from your fingers… yea, you nod encouragingly, that’s ri-

And that’s when the tentacle wraps around your throat from behind you!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5366807
Lifting into the air and gasping for the stuff all the while, you immediately get to work charging your GOO MOP with ELECTRICITY as you notice your two other friends being lifted as well!

Choking your name, Eddie struggles to break free as Kiki kicks at the tentacle wrapped around her. Talbot, though clearly in a better position, seems to sway a bit from the beating you’ve given him, and as you slam your mop into his stretched face, the janitor explodes into arcs of lightning!

Oh shit, you’re still attached!

Enjoying your impromptu shock treatment, Talbot stares holes into you as you and the others writhe in pain–until you notice the small opening in the janitor’s tentacle defenses at his side!

If you blasted him there…

Seeing your plan forming, a wide-eyed Eddie shakes his already jerking head. If you don’t do something, though, everyone’s gonna die! And you’ve tried everything!

Sensing the plan hatching between you, Talbot’s tentacles squeeze tighter–tight as they can with the electrical charge coursing through them! Hey, in a weird way this might be keeping everyone alive, huh?

Oh, right, still dying. Bringing you close to his face, it almost feels like the janitor’s asking you to save hi-

Oh wait nah, he’s charging up his eye laser. Damn.

What do you do!?
>CROAK OUT A PLEASANT MEMORY! A JOKE! SOMETHING TO REACH THIS STUBBORN ASSHOLE!
>BLAST HIS UNDEFENDED SIDE–IT’S THE ONLY WAY!
>LEAN IN FOR A KISS!
>STAB HIM WITH YOUR ELECTRIC BONE CLAWS!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5366810
>LEAN IN FOR A KISS!
As soon as it stuns him, which I’m hoping it should, grab his mask and tear it from his face. It’s got to be that damned mask.
>>
>>5366810
>>BLAST HIS UNDEFENDED SIDE–IT’S THE ONLY WAY!
>>LEAN IN FOR A KISS!

Top ten anime betrayals right here ^
>>
>>5366827
Do this in the opposite order. He'll live.
>>
>>5366810
>LEAN IN FOR A KISS!
>SMASH OUR MAGIC PRISM ON HIS UNDEFENDED SIDE
I'd assume the reason Tim couldn't thrall us in thread 1 was our wild magic anyway, should be able to undo it a bit by hitting Toblerone with some.
>>
>>5366830
>>5366827
I’m pretty sure the implication is that doing that will kill him.
>>
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>>5366810
>>5366847
Switching cause this is some big-brain shit right here!
>>
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>>5366849
Man, imagine if we killed Tatonka by accident, and then we basically made Stan a lesbo for real

#badend
>>
>>5366824
>THE KISS

>>5366847
>>5366851
>KISS AN' SHARD!

Writing!
>>
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As Talbot prepares to kill you about as nonchalantly as someone else would do the dishes, you can’t help but feel your old friend ANGER spread through your slowly-asphyxiating body! This asshole, you think to yourself, this guy right here! It’d be so easy to blow his side into ash from here–so easy that it hurts!

No, wait, that’s just the strangulation. And the electricity. Wait, that second one’s fizzling out a bit! Yay?

Still, that weak spot’s so damn obvious you almost take it! Talbot puts on a big show and all, but if you hit him somewhere unarmored? Hoo, boy!

What you’re trying to say is: at the end of the day he’s really not that strong at all–he’s just stupid! So very, very stupid...

… and you’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t like that about the big oaf.

So when Lady Luck presents an easy way out, you ignore it.

“Oh… great…” Pants Ly as he too starts to lose sensation in his extremities, “You musta’... lost yer… last brain cell…”

Leaning towards Talbot’s melted metal face with your remaining strength, you plant the most tender kiss you can plant on someone when you’re halfway between fainting and dying of oxygen deprivation!

Then nothing.

When it becomes apparent that you aren’t dead… yet, you take your chance when you feel the tentacle around your neck slacken just enough to give you a breath! Sending your hand spelunking, it returns from its voyage to the center of your pocket with your MAGIC PRISM– the one that seems to love slurping up magic!

Smashing it into his unarmored side with reckless abandon, your eyes light up (along with everything else in a nearby radius) as the already-filled prism collides with his body and EXPLODES with energy! Before you can regret whatever you just did, something hits ‘pause’ on your senses as you and everyone around are enveloped in a flash of eerie, pulsing light!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5366979
When you come to, your entire body is stinging from the cold.

And you’re in a tree.

“Stan?! STAN!

Oh good, Ly’s okay too.

“Holy CATS,, kid! We nearly got blown halfway ta’ CUSTERVILLE!

To hell with that, you snarl, coughing up a year’s worth of pine needles! If there’s one place you hate worse than CLEARWATER, it’s CUSTERVILLE! Pricks are probably having a ball listening to the news about all the shit their neighboring town’s going through!

Before you can share some CUSTERVILLE CRIME STATISTICS with your skeleton, you feel something wrap around you! Oh crap, is that a SNAKE!? Slicing with your BONE CLAWS, you inadvertently send yourself tumbling out of the snow-capped tree…

And into the waiting arms of a familiar and very human-looking red-haired janitor.

And he’s… sobbing?!

S-S-Stan…” Bereft of any menacing glowing eyes or freaky skull masks, Talbot’s face is drenched with blood-streaked tears as he struggles to keep himself together. “I… I’m sorry, Stan…

Bringing you into his trembling embrace, the janitor falls to his knees and caresses the back of your head as you struggle to process what just happened!

Unfortunately your mind comes up blank, so your body goes with the next best thing and promptly breaks down into a sobbing mess too. Damn these allergies!

E-everything…” Stammers Talbot as you nuzzle his damp cheek, “I… I saw EVERYTHING… f-FELT everything… a-and I couldn’t st-stop…

Sssh… you whisper into his ear as you squeeze him tighter, it’s… it’s okay…

“N-no… I… I almost k-killed y-you… and Eddie… A-and Kiki… an-and everyon-”

“Oof…” Groans a familiar voice approaching from the trees, “You got that right, T…”

Still covered in tears, you and Talbot glance in the voice’s direction to find both Eddie and Kiki stumbling through the trees covered in pine needles and even a bird’s nest or two!

“Alright, I’ll admit it: you’re tough, okay? Crazy bastard will do anything to impress us, huh, Keek?”

Giving Eddie’s shoulder a playful punch, the girl rushes over and gets in on the hugging action, prompting Ed to join in too!

I’m sorry, g-guys…” Talbot repeats as he brings his arms around the newcomers, “I’m s-sorry-

He’s STUPID is whhat he is, you stammer through your watery eyes! You TOLD him you’d give him an ass-kicking if he ever went crazy again… y-you TOLD him!

“Y-yea…” He chuckles as a smile slowly forms on his face, “You did, d-didn’t ya?”

Staying huddled together for a moment, the four of you bask in the warm feeling for as long as you can.

“... yea, I’m getting soaked. Let’s get off the ground.”

Which isn’t long. Thanks, Talbot.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5366981
You sure?

“Yep.” Talbot nods after having moved the discussion to a nearby felled log, “I’m sure.”

“But… but you’re fine now, right?” Eddie asks as he looks to Kiki for backup. “You can’t ju-”

“I dunno, man… I thought I was fine before and look how THAT turned out.” Talbot counters, pointing at the red marks around everyone’s necks. “I just… I don’t wanna be the guy who ruins everything, y’know?”

No, you snarl, you DON’T know! Did he forget that speech you gave about bringing him back however many times it takes? DID HE!? Keek, find the Thread in the archive!

“It’s not that!” Groans the janitor as he rests his cheeks in his bloody hands. “I’m not asking you to give up on me, Stan-”

“Buuuut you’re asking us to leave you behind.” Eddie concludes as he and Kiki shoot you a puzzled glance. “I dunno…”

“You’re already gunning for TIM, right?” Talbot asks with growing irritation in his voice! “Then let me do my own thing–run interference! Stuff like that! That way you won’t get jumped when you least expect it!”

He makes a good point… maybe? But there’s a lot to do right now and a lot of skeletons roaming around…

How do you respond?
>FINE, GIVE ‘EM HELL AND DON’T DIE, PLEASE.
>YOU’LL TAKE THE RISK–YOU SUCKED THE EVIL OUT, DAMN IT!
>JUST STICK WITH US A LITTLE LONGER, OKAY? THEN YOU CAN GO.
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5366982

Maybe we could send Talbot, Kiki and Eddie to help out at Goodboy HQ while we infiltrate city hall?

Just us against the world, where no one else can get hurt.
>>
That's it for tonight, folks: getting back to work drained the crap outta me and we've got more TOMORROW! Not entirely sure when I'll be back, so look for an update around TUESDAY 4-5PM PST just to be safe! I'll probably get it done earlier than that, though. As always, thanks for playing! Hope to see you at the next one!
>>
>>5366982
Distraction has to be done in a very specific manner because the Lich already told us that he knows everything Talbot does. That means that anything we do, we cannot tell Talbot about. I’m gonna need some time to think up an idea here. Good thing I have until tomorrow.
>>
>>5367044
>Just us against the world, where no one else can get hurt.
You would think that, but villains have a lovely habit of putting the ones you love at gun point to get you vulnerable.

After thinking it over, I argue that the most good we can possibly do is to take out Tim as fast as possible. Going to help out the lodge doesn’t stop Tim from sending in more skeletons or doing some other magic mumbo-jumbo. We could two-prong attack the city hall. We send Eddie and Kiki back to the uni (and telling them this out of Talbot’s earshot), then Have Talbot attack one side of the building while we attack another without telling him what our plan is beyond that we’ll be attacking the building. Once we’re in, he can take off to stay out of the Lich’s grasp.

The only other option is that we find somebody who can pilot a fucking chopper (Pete is probably dead lol) and we use that to get up to the Lich’s castle (which, funnily enough, Tim may not know about given that Pete never mentioned it to anyone but us, and he wasn’t a thrall of the lich) while we have Toblerone run distraction at the city hall under the impression that we will be attacking that way.

I like the second option more since Tim shouldn’t be able to predict it, but I don’t know how we’ll pull it off without finding somebody who can pilot. Maybe Blumenkrantz? He was in Nam’, and he seems grizzled enough to inexplicably know how to pilot an aircraft. Though this might also mean we have to go to the lodge anyway.

This is all open to input. We really need to think this out.
>>
>>5367229
And to add on, I think we need to get a new pair of radios so we can toss one to Talbot and let him know when to bail so that he doesn’t continue to risk himself after we’ve infiltrated the sky castle.
>>
>>5367229
For the sake of promoting more discussion here (since it's been slow and I'm about to head to work) the helicopter idea is certainly feasible--you recall there being no barrier or anything surrounding Tim's Fortress save for a fuckload of flying skulls and the occasional BONE DRAGON or two, but given the blizzard it's hard to tell.

I'll keep 'er open. Hopefully I can get an update started around 3-4ish!
>>
>>5366982

Damn... I can't think of a worthwhile battle plan other than >>5367044 but >>5367229 drives some amazingly good points. I'll just go with the majority vote in that case.
>>
>>5367454
I’m thinking we send somebody to check out the chopper and hope that somehow Pete is there and survived. Failing that, we’ll have to go see if we can find somebody who can pilot at the lodge.
>>
Hmmm, maybe we should just all go to the Lodge together, then recruit Blumencratz to run the heli. Assuming we don't have to fight skele-Blumencratz first, then have Christi pilot it. That feels like a thing that could happen.

Can we ask Ly and Nats for some advice? We've got voices in our head, might as well use them!
>>
>>5367765
So we have two options:

We head for Pete’s chopper now and hope he might have survived and is already there waiting for us. Pete’s chopper should have a radio on it, which would let us communicate our plan to the others through Mitzi’s radio. We give Talbot Syb’s doll so that she can tell him when to back off of his distraction attack on hall once we’ve reached the sky fortress.

The other option is that we go to the lodge, try and secure the place (for once I really hope Boris and his butt-buddies are there fighting the good fight), and get assistance from somebody there to help us fly the chopper and maybe aid the distraction attack at city hall if they can spare the help. We could also get the other gang members to head there from the Uni once we’ve secured it. It would certainly give better aid to Mitz and Art. We can use Syb’s doll for contacting them with that.
>>
>>5367792
I’m going towards number two, which is more or less what >>5367765 said. But of course we could still ask Ly his opinion since he generally has a good head on his shoulders (lol), though Nats is probably conked out still.
>>
>>5366982
>>5367792
>>5367800

This actually sounds like a pretty solid plan. I'll go with this!
>>
>>5367765
>>5367800
>>5367855
>TO THE LODGE TOGETHER!
>BUT FIRST CHECK WITH LY AND SHIT HO BOY THIS IS A TRICKY ONE
Writing!
>>
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Okay, you stammer as your mind struggles to wrap around everything that just happened, just… just gimme a sec, okay? Everyone take a five!

“Yea, but-”

Especially YOU, Talbot! You’re still pissed at him for ruining your morning!

“I said I was sorry for almost killing you–what more do you wa-”

“Wait, wha?” Asks Eddie with a hint of fear in his tone as he shares a glance with Kiki.

Forget it, okay? Just take the damn FIVE! And keep it down–there’s probably more skeletons around! Stomping off in search of a sheltered spot from the blizzard, you give the side of your head a few quick taps. Hey Ly, you hiss, you there?

“Thankfully.” He replies with a sigh. “Cripes, kid, I was sure we was gonna ice T right then and there…”

Yea, you shrug, not yet... but you have no idea how long he’s gonna stay nice…

“Couldn’t tell ya, cupcake.” Replies your skeleton as he borrows your shoulders for a shrug. “Da’ optimist in me says he’s back fer’ good, given all those reminders ya’ gave him of bein’ human, but da’ realist in me says who da’ hell knows?”

Well you sure as hell don’t! Silently and impatiently tapping your foot as the bloody snow falls around you, you switch topics to something more proactive: so, you begin, any idea on what to do next?

“As backwards as it sounds, I think we oughta’ keep Talbot wit’ us.” Ly suggests in a measured tone.

Yea, you nod, that DOES sound backwards! IDIOT!

“Alright, I know yer’ a little emotional from everything dat’ happened today, but cool it, yea?” Ly orders sternly.

Alright, you huff, ”Sorry”!

“Anyways, da’ guy’s dangerous–dat’s obvious.” Continues your bones, “but if we pair him up wit’ anyone else he’s gonna tear ‘em inta’ ribbons if he gets, uh, controlled again, right?”

Yea, you nod with a hint of disappointment, Eddie and the others ARE pretty weak…

“So let’s keep him nearby. Worst case, we have ta’ smack some sense inta’ him again.” Ly suggests. “Best case: we’ve got him on our side for whatever da’ hell’s waitin’ for us.”

Yea, you mutter, nodding thoughtfully to yourself, yea! Hey, he’s not an idiot after all!

Stan.”

You’re sorry, okay!? You’re dealing with a lot of shit right now an-

“It’s cool, kid–I accept yer’ apology. Shit's gone crazy.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5367930
“An’ back to yer’ first question,” Ly continues as you take cover from the blizzard beneath a nearby tree, “I… I really dunno, kid… we’re close to dat’ CHOPPER Pete stowed fer’ us, an’ it’s a long shot, but since TIM don’t know about it, dat’ might just get us up to da’ FORTRESS wit’out bein’ caught.”

But lemme guess, you interrupt, he’s got other thoughts too.

“Yea…” Your skeleton replies as he ponders them for a bit. “I’m… I’m worried about DA’ LODGE.

Dude, they’ve got a friggin’ army down there. And that shitface BORIS! What’s the problem?

“Dat’s my point.” Ly retorts with a frown in his voice. “Dat’ place was locked down–how da’ hell did skeletons get in?”

Well, you shrug, they uh… they probably learned where it was since you brought Talbot there a few times, an-

“Sure, but dat’ don’t explain how they got in!” Concludes your skeleton. “Everyone was worried about some saboteur--what if dat’ did it?”

… then it’d still be a waste of time, you counter! You need to hit TIM ASHT!

“I know…” Sighs Ly as he struggles to come up with a more concrete argument. “It’s… I’m just worried about da’ folks down there, is all, Stan. There’s a whole lotta’ innocents, not ta’ mention Blumenkrantz, Christy, an’ a buncha’ others.”

Yea, you frown, and that’s what makes this so damn difficult.

“At da’ very least there might be some HARDWARE down in dat’ bunker dat’d be useful for an attack on da’ fort… an’ havin security runnin’ interference when we go ta’ infiltrate it would be real helpful…”

All good points, you huff, shivering at the raging storm around you. Man, this sucks…

“You’re tellin’ me…” Ly agrees as he nods your head. “Whatever ya’ choose, we’d better move soon–dis’ place is probably gonna be crawlin’ wit’ boneheads soon.”

Yep, you groan, knowing your luck that’s a pretty good prediction. Pushing off the tree trunk and walking back towards where you left your pals, you give yourself a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Thanks, Ly.

“I’m yer’ skeleton–’s my job ta’ support.”

Still, though.

“Yea, I know… any time, kiddo.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5367932
SO?!” Asks Talbot as he and the others notice you returning, “Hurry up–I don’t wanna freak out again!”

He’s already freaking out, you snarl, now RELAX!

Quietly sitting back down on the log, Talbot watches as you, Kiki, and Eddie all retreat to a spot sheltered from the storm beneath another small promontory. Is he coming?!

“Y-yea, just… shit, it’s cold…”

Scurrying over, your pals await your decision with eager eyes!

“So what’s the plan, Stan?” Eddie asks! “The others are countin’ on us!”

What IS the plan?

Q1: WHAT DO YOU TELL TALBOT?
>YOU’RE GOING SOLO, T. HEAD TO (LODGE? COLLEGE? CITY HALL? WRITE-IN?)
>YOU’RE COMING WITH US, T. IF YOU FLIP OUT AGAIN I’LL JUST KICK YOUR ASS A FIFTIETH TIME!
>WRITE-IN!
Q2: WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
>TO THE LODGE!
>TO THE HELICOPTER HIDING SPOT!
>TO CITY HALL!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5367935
>YOU’RE COMING WITH US, T. IF YOU FLIP OUT AGAIN I’LL JUST KICK YOUR ASS A FIFTIETH TIME!
>TO THE LODGE!

And uh, ask Syb if she can help out through her doll a bit, just like old times eh? But don't let Talbot know where the rest of the crew is, better safe than deboned eh?
>>
>>5367935
>YOU’RE COMING WITH US, T. IF YOU FLIP OUT AGAIN I’LL JUST KICK YOUR ASS A FIFTIETH TIME!
>TO THE LODGE!
>BLINDFOLD TALBOT WHILE YOU’RE HEADING THERE. HE CAN, LIKE, HOLD YOUR HAND OR SOMETHING!
Who’s ready for a snow hike? And don’t tell Talbot where we’re going right away.
>>
>>5367935
>>YOU’RE COMING WITH US, T. IF YOU FLIP OUT AGAIN I’LL JUST KICK YOUR ASS A FIFTIETH TIME!
>TO THE HELICOPTER HIDING SPOT!

While I'm gonna stick with my vote and drag T along cause he's a powerhouse, here's my question: How did the mask get on Tilapia's face in the first place? My guess is that if Tim can get a mask on him remotely, then he can do it again via Tossup's goodboynium skeleton.

TLDR: No matter how many times we defeat Torpid, he's gonna continue to revert to TIM's side.
>>
>>5367958
>>5367935

DAMMIT I MEANT LODGE

>>5367957
Yeah don't tell T cause he's basically Tim's eyes and ears to us.
>>
>>5367958
>Spoiler
Unless the skeletons forced it on him. It’s probably worth asking Talbot what he remembers from this morning.
>>
>>5367951
>>5367957
>>5367958
>YOU'RE COMING WITH, TALBOT!
>TO THE LODGE!
Writing!
>>
First thing’s first, you begin as you retrieve your GAMER T-SHIRT and twist it into a makeshift blindfold, put this on!

“Wait, wh-” Sputters Talbot as you tie it over his eyes! “H-hey!”

Quit fussin’! Making sure it’s fastened, you wag a finger at the confused custodian. He’s coming with you, but he’s not gonna see where you’re headed!

“But what if he turns again?” Asks Eddie as he gives Kiki a boost so she can poke at Talbot’s defenseless forehead.

Then you’ll kick his ass a FIFTIEINTH TIME!

“Psssh, okay, exangeration, much?” Talbot scoffs. “The one or two times you did beat me were because my back ached, so-”

Snatching his hand up in yours, you tug him towards you while trying to avoid eye contact with the others. You’ll be g-guiding him, so quit it! Unless he wants to be led face-first into a woodchipper or something! Moron!

Turning to the others, you mouth your destination so that your escortee can’t hear:

THE LODGE!

“We’re gonna walk all that w-OOF!

Yes, you snap, nodding in appreciation at Kiki’s quick elbow to Eddie’s stomach, you are! And if you move quickly and quietly you’ll probably make it there faster than in a car, so let’s mosey!

Leading Talbot along by your somewhat sweaty hand, you lead the way towards what you hope is Good Boy’s bunker… or what remains of it.

So uh, you mutter, trying to keep things casual, how did he turn, anyways?

“Yea!” Eddie nods eagerly as he ducks under a low-hanging branch, “Where’d that mask come from anyways?”

“Well uh,” Talbot explains as he struggles to tag along behind you, “it was-AAAUGH!

Before he can finish, both you and Talbot trip over a snow-covered root and tumble down the hill into a gulley!

“Watch where we’re going, godDAMN it!” He roars as he spits blood-caked snow out of his mouth! “I don’t wanna die from shitty guidance!”

Y-yea, you stammer, struggling to lever his body off of yours. C-could uh… does he mind getting up?

“Oh. Shit.”

Scrambling to your feet, you wave Kiki and Eddie down to you and pray to whatever deity watching that they didn’t see that!

They totally did. It was awkward.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5368100
After that smooth recovery of yours, you repeat your earlier question: What happened!?

“Well it musta’ been later at night…” Talbot recounts with the clarity and confidence of an Alzheimer’s patient. “I got outta bed to use the bathroom again, cuz, y’know, we drank a few of those before going to bed…”

R-right, you nod, trying and failing to ignore the faint screeching sound akin to a dying rabbit coming from Eddie’s agape mouth, err, m-maybe? You don’t remember last night much! Or having anyone over!

“Uhhh, right… m-me too.” Talbot quickly adds! Good save! “So I got up, right? And I went to the bathroom to, y’know, take care of business-”

“Hold it!”

Heeding Ly’s advice, you immediately plant a finger over the janitor’s lips and motion for everyone to quiet down! Sure enough, a whole platoon of armor-clad skeletons emerge from the blizzard ahead of you–each one marching in unison towards CLEARWATER! Holding your breath as they pass by, you wait for a few more minutes in silence before finally releasing Talbot!

“Holy shit...” He mutters as the rest of you catch your breaths, “There’s still a lot of ‘em, huh?”

Yea, you nod, and they’re still looking for you too, so let’s keep going!

“Okay…” He nods, continuing his story in a quieter voice as you continue towards town far away from the patrol, “So right when I got comfy on the John, I heard it–like a hook scrapin’ inside my head!”

“A hook?” Eddie asks with renewed interest.

“Yea! Or, like, a pipe cleaner or something! Anyways, I had an idea of what was happenin’, so I tried to fight it–but the minute I felt that shit in my head, well… I lost control!”

Yea, you scoff, no kidding!

“Shut up! So I lost control of my arms, legs, even those tentacles I make, y’know? And just when I remember to shout, I feel that goo crap covering up my face!”

The mask, you remark, musta’ been that!

“Yea!” Talbot adds as if telling a ghost story! “A-and after that I was just… on autopilot. Left the RV for a while, found Mitz outside brooding, an’ she waves at me an’ the next thing I know I’m… I’m reaching for her, an-”

“Hey-HEY! That… that wasn’t you, dude! You didn’t do any of that!” Eddie interrupts as he rushes forward to place a reassuring hand on Talbot’s shaking shoulder! “It’s just that bastard TIM–he’s makin’ you do it!”

Yea, you nod as you give the janitor’s hand a subtle squeeze, and that means he can fight it!

“Y-yea…” Talbot stammers, still shivering at his own story, “You’re… you’re right…”

Squeezing your hand back, the blizzard around you feels a little warmer as you continue to descend through the trees…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5368104
https://youtu.be/mDn-DNVfr-o
ROLL ME 1d100 FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>5368108
I sure hope I don't roll a 1 on this absolutely pointless roll.
>>
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>>5368117
well, I got what I asked for I guess.
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>5368108

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>5368108
I'll save us!
>>
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>>5368119

Rest easy, king, you did good...
>>
>>5368117
>>5368121
>>5368125
Highest Roll: 74!
Writing!
>>
>>5368121
Scream anon pulls through again.

>>5368104
>R-right, you nod, trying and failing to ignore the faint screeching sound akin to a dying rabbit coming from Eddie’s agape mouth, err, m-maybe?

F for my boy.
>>
Thankfully the rest of the trip through the hills proves to be surprisingly uneventful–not because you don’t run into anything, of course, but because you manage to avoid most of said things!

“Jeez,” Eddie remarks as you let another horde of flamethrower-wielding skeletons march by, “They’re really mobilizing, huh…”

Yea, you frown, and you hope they’re doing it far from YOU! Descending into the outskirts of town through a derelict industrial park, you and your pals freeze in place (with the exception of Talbot, who ‘accidentally’ bumps his hand into your hindquarters) as a deafening SHRIEK pierces the air above you! Ducking behind a nearby snowbank with Talbot in tow, you and your pals squint through the blizzard in an attempt to get a bead on what made the sound!

Well, you don’t get a good look, unfortunately, but you DO get a pretty decent glimpse at its shadow! And what a shadow it is! Roughly the size of a subway train (and probably ten times as clean), the shape sports two massive wings and a long, reptilian tail trailing behind it! Soaring above the abandoned refinery or mill or whatever the hell they have in industrial parks, the great beast banks higher into the stormy air until you can’t see it anymore!

But you sure can HEAR it!

“Shit!” Talbot hisses from behind his blindfold, “What was that?!”

You dunno, you shrug, but you’d kill to have on your side!

“Wait…” Eddie mutters in confusion, “D-didn’t we? Before?”

Huh?

“N-nevermind… I was mistaken.”

Okay, dork. Rolling your eyes at Eddie’s stupid interruption, you weigh your options from behind the rising snowbank. Despite your cover, the winged horror continues to circle your area–no doubt thanks to STUPID TALBOT!

“Hey! I’m not trying to kill everyone, okay?”

Well try less… err… harder! Giving him a light smack on the shoulder, you bring Talbot closer to you as you weigh your options…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5368190
THE LODGE isn’t that far–not that close either. Still, you’re in the outskirts North of town, and that’s much better than before! The question you hadn’t considered (since you were too preoccupied with the IDIOT squeezing your hand right now) is how you plan on getting there… and IN, for that matter!

You can continue on foot, of course–that’d get you there eventually, but you’d still have to figure out a way in. Taking a quick look at your surroundings, you can just barely make out the word on the shaking, weathered sign hanging over the next lot: “ M OU D OT”! Whatever it is, there’s a few cars over there you could try to bust into!

And then there’s the other option–the one you’d rather not use, but an option all the same: revealing itself by tickling your frost-capped nostrils with an unspeakably foul odor, the origin sits barely peeking out of the snow-covered road nearby: a MANHOLE COVER!

You built up a little tolerance after your tangle with that stupid SERIAL KILLER and it’s bound to be warmer down there than up here, but still–it’s a S-S-SEWER! Who knows what horrible stuff is down there!?

With the flying beast still looming overhead and countless skeletons patrolling the streets, it’s not like the sewers are any safer, but still…

“Hey, ain’t there a BACK ENTRANCE to DA’ LODGE in da’ sewers?”

Yes, Ly, but you were kinda banking on the readers FORGETTING THAT!

“Whoops. Sorry, kid, just lookin’ out for, y’know, our LIVES!

Gee, thanks, DICK!

WHERE TO?
>FIND A CAR NEXT DOOR AND HURRY TO THE LODGE!
>CARS ARE TOO LOUD, EVEN IF THEY ARE FAST! KEEP TO THE STREETS!
>I-IF IT’S THE BEST WAY… Y-YOU GUESS YOU CAN G-GO TO THE S-S-y-you know…
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5368192
>>I-IF IT’S THE BEST WAY… Y-YOU GUESS YOU CAN G-GO TO THE S-S-y-you know…

IF WE DEFEAT A TIMIFIED TABLET, WE CAN SURE AS HELL GO TO THE SEWERS!
>>
>>5368207
>I-IF IT’S THE BEST WAY… Y-YOU GUESS YOU CAN G-GO TO THE S-S-y-you know…
This. The sewers are narrow and confined. They’ll limit the enemy’s advantages (though those flamethrowers might cause issues).
>>
>>5368207
>>5368236
>TO THE... PLACE!
Writing! Might be the last update of the night!
>>
Is it bad I want Stan to be right about the sewer mutants?
>>
>>5368300
Nah. I knew from the moment they got mentioned that they’d have to be around somewhere. Stan was right about Ludwig, after all.
>>
>>5368300
Lmao she probably is
>>
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The more you sift through your options there in the cold, the more the correct answer becomes obvious:

There’s no going around it, you huff as you give your choice a long, hard, defeated stare, so you’re just gonna have to do it:

THE STREETSAACK! OWWW!

“I’m gonna assume youse was tryin’ ta’ keep Talbot outta’ da’ loop.” Grumbles Ly as the sudden pain in your head subsides. “Now tell da’ others what ya’ really meant or I’m gonna find da’ lever in here dat’ll AGE YA’ PREMATURELY!

Apprehension creeps into your expression. He… he wouldn’t!

“Lessee… oh hey, what’s dis’ ‘CROW’S FEET’ button here do-”

OKAY, OKAY,OKAY, you snap as you jab a manic finger at the manhole cover a few times, he wins!

“Uh, y-you sure, Stan?” Eddie asks as he preemptively pinches his nose shut! “It smells like my dad’s laundry basket in th-”

You’re just about to use his excuse as an out when fate slams a whopper of a rebuttal in your face in the form of the horrible flying beast swooping down from above and searing the entire industrial park (your hideaway thankfully excluded) with a deep breath of acrid-smelling fire! Gee, he must’ve had garlic, huh?

“Yeayknowwhatlet’sdoit.” Taking the lead at a full gallop, Eddie wastes no time in sliding over to the manhole and prying it open with his MAGIC TRACKING WAND! Hopping in like it was a pool, Kiki leads the charge followed by Eddie and then you!

… and then YOU!

GO!

Y-yea, well, you stammer, you might j-just take the long way with Talbot and-

“Man, smells like a friggin’ SEWER out here.” Talbot remarks as he continues holding your hand. “And your hand’s sweatier ‘n Hell, Stan. What’s up? You’re not… SCARED OF SEWERS, are y-”

Clearly more engaged in the progression of the plot than you are, the BONE DRAGON circles around once more and sprays the area with burning death–YOU INCLUDED! Though it takes you and Talbot a few excruciatingly-painful minutes to finally die, at least you didn’t have to go into the se-

“Yea, screw this. C’mon, scaredy-cat.”

Yanking the blindfold off his eyes, Talbot drags you kicking and screaming away from the sweet release of death into the open manhole! Clawing at the edges even after he hops in, the combined forces of Kiki, Talbot, and Eddie manage to get you in just in time to avoid becoming a Steamed Stan! DAMN IT!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5368327
“Stan?”



Stan?”

…..

“Damn it, snap out of it, you WUSS! We need the narration and stuff!”

Feeling Talbot’s meaty hand slap you between the shoulderblades, you suddenly find yourself able to have rational thoughts again!

… okay, semi-rational.
https://youtu.be/JKliwRUs_bM
Trying and failing to shake the remaining jitters off, you bite the bullet and swiftly take stock of your dark, grimy, and immensely clammy surroundings! The first thing you notice, obviously, is the SMELL. Holy GOD you thought you burnt your nostrils out with cleaning supply fumes–what the hell is all this?!

Though you waft, waft, and waft some more, you can’t seem to get the rancid smell away–or off of you at this point! Trying to push the pleasant aroma somewhere between rotting bacon and trash juice in a heatwave out of your head, you instead focus on what you can see!

To your relief, you didn’t land in anything’s lair. In fact, you find yourself standing in a crossroads, of sorts–to your left sits a CORRODED METAL DOOR–its surface tarnished by nothing but rust, grime, and the ancient, bleached remains of some kind of sticker near the top–something official, like a MAINTENANCE SIGN, maybe?

To your right and going forward is the funkiest canal you’ve ever seen, and you don’t mean the music your dad listens to! Like one of those rivers you see on those nature shows, it flows deeper into the sewers carrying a cornucopia of trash, human waste, and other things you’d rather not mention.

“Holy crap, is that a DEAD RAT STUCK IN A CONDOM? GRODY!”

Like you said, you’d rather not mention. Thanks, Talbot.

Looking forward, the canal splits further down the tunnel–to the RIGHT the waste seems to be funneled deeper--maybe closer to your destination? Heading STRAIGHT, however, leads deeper via a series of dripping catwalks above the muck below–kinda like the one you’re standing on right now.

“So,” Eddie reasons through his pinched nose, “The place is somewhere down here, right?”

It’d BETTER be, you retort! Because if you know one thing about this place, it’s-

Before you can finish, you hear the faint sound of gunfire ringing throughout the tunnels ahead!

Okay, you sigh, you can deal with skeleto-
https://youtu.be/rUCj9whkx3Y

“Er… was that a dog? Do you think a dog got stuck down here, guys?”

… just choose a route fast, please! Stan’s BEGGING you, anons!
>CLIMB BACK OUT YES GOOD LET’S TAKE THE ROAD!
>HEAD THROUGH THE MAINTENANCE AREA–COULD HAVE MORE SKELETONS, BUT IT’S SAFER… RIGHT?
>FOLLOW THE CANAL DOWN–DEEPER MEANS CLOSER TO THE LODGE, MAYBE!
>TAKE THE CATWALKS–THAT’S WHAT THE SEWER WORKERS USE! A-AND MAYBE OTHER THINGS!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
That's it for tonight, all--got work tomorrow again and you know how that goes, heheh! Hoo boy!
My schedule's been really wonky this week as you've no doubt noticed already, so expect the next update around WEDNESDAY 4-5PM PST! Again, might be sooner, might be a little later--we'll just have to see! Thanks again for playing and good discussions today--glad you guys could come to a good decision!
>>
>>5368331
Thanks again, DB. U a real one.
>>
>>5368328
>TAKE THE CATWALKS–THAT’S WHAT THE SEWER WORKERS USE! A-AND MAYBE OTHER THINGS!
>>
>FOLLOW THE CANAL DOWN–DEEPER MEANS CLOSER TO THE LODGE, MAYBE!

Into the depths!
>>
>>5368328
>>TAKE THE CATWALKS–THAT’S WHAT THE SEWER WORKERS USE! A-AND MAYBE OTHER THINGS!
>>
>>5368328
>FOLLOW THE CANAL DOWN–DEEPER MEANS CLOSER TO THE LODGE, MAYBE!
>>
>>5368328
>FOLLOW THE CANAL DOWN–DEEPER MEANS CLOSER TO THE LODGE, MAYBE!
>>
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>>5368479
>>5368591
>DO YOUR LITTLE TURN ON THE CATWALK!

>>5368573
>>5368629
>>5368927
>AH, THE CANALS! HOW ROMANTIC!

Looks like we're hitting the shitchute! Writi-hm? Wha?

Folks, I've just been informed that Stan is being, and I apologize for the brash tone the crew is using here, 'a little bitchy baby' and can't move on her own! Luckily we're all trained professionals here and know exactly how to get her moving again!

ROLL ME 1d100 TO STOP BEING A WUSS OR ELSE TALBOT WILL CARRY YOU OR SOMETHING AND IT'LL BE REAL EMBARASSING! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Don't forget to include a few CALMING STRATEGIES and NICE, NON-SEWER-RELATED THINGS TO THINK ABOUT AND FOCUS ON!
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>5369140
THERESNOSUCHTHINGASMUTANTSTHERESNOSUCHTHINGASMUTANTS
>>
>>5369143
>36
THEREISSUCHATHINGASMUTANTS
>>
Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>5369140
>>
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>>5369147
>>5369143
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>5369140
THEREMIGHTBEATHINGASMUTANTS
>>
>>5369154
>>5369147
>>5369143

Could have been worse. Imagine a nat one here.
>>
>>5369143
>>5369147
>>5369154
>HIGHEST ROLL: 36
Lol, writing
>>
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“Stan. Staaaaan.” Eddie repeats, waving his hand in front of your twitching eyes, “Anybody home?”

“You’d better say something quick or I’m carryin’ ya.” Talbot warns, unaware of the fierce mental battle being waged within your psyche!

You… you’ve figured it out, you mutter, prompting your friend’s faces to light up excitedly! You’re… you’re having a breakthrough here…

“G-go on!” Eddie nods with an encouraging tone of voice! “What is it, Stan?”

Well… that time with the SERIAL KILLER? When you and Syb went into that basement?

“Yea?”

Well…

“Y-yea?”

That totally wasn’t a REAL sewer, so it didn’t count–turns out you’re still abso-friggin-lutely terrified of sewers and the MUTANTS within!

Returning to near-catatonia, Eddie shares a disappointed look with Talbot and Kiki. “S-so wait… that wasn’t really a breakthrough at all, Stan.”

“It kinda was…” Talbot shrugs as he idly sticks a finger in his ear. “Not, like, a good one, though.”

“No…” Eddie sighs with disapproval in his voice, “No, it really wasn’t.”

MORALE -1!

Staggering from yet another MORALE LOSS, your needlessly-dramatic gesture turns near-fatal when a nearby drainage pipe GUSHES with fresh waste next to you! Filling the tunnel with an uncharacteristically-girly SQUEAL, you stumble backwards off the maintenance catwalk and (thankfully) onto a longboard-sized hunk of plastic bobbing in the river of filth!

Swaying erratically as you struggle to stay balanced, your companions watch with varying mixtures of concern and second-hand embarrassment as your sewer board takes you along on the next exciting leg of its journey:

DOWN THE CANAL!

Picking up speed on the sludge-coated slope, you surf for dear life as the maintenance catwalk disappears above you and the service lights get dimmer and dimmer! Hold on, Ly, it’s gonna get choppy!

“Damn you, Stan. If we die because you were scared of friggin’ mutants I’m gonna kill ya.”

ROLL ME 1d100-5 (+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 FENCER’S FEMURS, -20 S-S-SEWER MUTANTS!!!) I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 21 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5369176
Itty bitty boat
>>
Rolled 5 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5369176
THIS ROLL'S EITHER GONNA MAKE OR BREAK US
>>
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>>5369189
FUCKING MUTIE SCUM
>>
Rolled 4 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5369176
>>5369189
ANON YOU FOOL
>>
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>>5369193
HAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA *clears throat* HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA
>>
>>5369182
>>5369189
>>5369193
>HIGHEST ROLL: 16!
Man, what a crappy way to die, huh? Welp, start thinking of backup protagonists! Writing!
>>
>>5369199
Oh fuck me, that's a ZERO. HAHAHAHA!
>>
>>5369200
OH fuck me TWICE, that's a -1! I'm not even drunk yet--sorry for the triple post! Man, guess Stan's fear was totally justified, huh! Wow!
>>
>>5369199
>>5369200

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHjH3DyKChU

Name a better protagonist... I'll wait.
>>
>>5369193
>>5369189
>>5369182
Best time for this to happen. Stan is going to be terrified of sewers for the rest of her life.
>>
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https://youtu.be/tLKnlzYwVz4
You maybe ride the plastic for a good two seconds–three tops, before something jostles your surfboard and sends you teetering off-balance!

“No… no no NO N-”

Ly’s words of encouragement do little to help you as you tumble backwards into the muck with a sickening ‘SQUIRLSCH!’! Closing your eyes and mouth does little to stop the soul-draining STENCH, and as you desperately flail your arms and legs against the current, you quickly find out just how deep the canal is when something yanks you below the surface!

If it were water things would be different, you think–you’d be able to doggie paddle like a raccoon that fell into a pool and escape! But the… stuff around you has a different consistency–one more akin to some kind of quicksand! To make matters worse, whatever’s dragging you is impossible to see, and as you feel something shake and tear into your leg like it was a steak dinner, it dawns on you that you might be in some serious shit right now!

Pun NOT intended!

Is it a SEWER CROC? a WASTE-CRUSHING MACHINE, perhaps? No, you reason as your consciousness is quickly overpowered by the STINK, it’s worse–

This… this MUST be a s-s-SEWER MUTANT!

As the realization hits you, you drift into complete and sudden catatonia. All fight leaves you as you’re swiftly overpowered mentally and physically.

Before you know it, everything goes dark.

ROLL 1d100 FOR SOMETHING… JUST ONE ROLL, PLEASE!
>>
Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>5369217
We did not come this far it to end like this.
>>
>>5369220
Writing!
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>5369217
>>
>>5369231
Oh wait, that didn't count. :-)
>>
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Nothing. For what must be the eighteenth time in this damned ‘Bones Quest’ of yours, you feel nothing.

Scent, touch, the gut-wrenching noise the goop made when you tumbled in… none of it even registers anymore. So if that’s the case, why aren’t you in that stupid waiting room yet?

Why aren’t you DEAD!?

As you strain to get something… anything... the darkness around you watches impassively.

And that’s when you feel something wrap around you.

T-TALBOT, you sputter in your half-dead prison, he caught up! He saved you! Okay, that dude definitely deserves a prize once this all blows ov-

For a brief second, you feel again. Rising from your fetid tomb, you can just barely make out some dim light beneath your waste-caked eyelids, and as the filth drips away from your ears you begin to make out sounds–distorted, like you were submerged in a bathtub, but sounds nonetheless!

Sludge–lots of it. Oozing off your limp body into the river beneath you as you’re lifted out like a prize bass. Machines! Chugging away at a frantic pace! And muffled, almost mechanical chatter over…

RADIOS!

You open your mouth to shout, to whisper, to do SOMETHING, but all you manage is a weak sputter as you cough up… stuff. Oh jeez…

Two human-sized silhouettes appear in your dim, half-opened eyes. Reaching out to them with a limp arm, the strain proves too much for your strained circuits! As suddenly as before, you’re out like a light…

You’re moving. You can’t feel it, but you know it, somehow. WOMEN’S INTUITION, and all that. Like changing slides in a projector, it feels like you’re only asleep for a few seconds, but when you awaken once more, it becomes painfully clear that you’ve been out for some time.

You find yourself fastened into a sturdy, thick metal gurney–one that’d give your BONE CLAWS a run for their money, you suspect. Not that you can get at it, though–as you test your arms and legs, you immediately realize they’ve been fastened down by a series of intricate metal locks and latches!

But that’s not the worst of it, oh no... as you take stock of your bonds, it dawns on you that your JANITOR COVERALLS have been replaced with a familiar ORANGE variety, and all that cover your feet are the white stockings from your, uh, purchase from HAULIE-PAULIE, wherever the poor SOB is now.

Your relief at being clean is short-lived when it dawns on you that someone took your belongings, and you’re just about to blast yourself an exit when another horrifying realization settles in:

Your laser eye… it’s GONE!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5369241
As panic settles in, you realize that you need to escape! Nothing else matters! Tugging at your bonds, you frantically scan the eerily-sterile metal cell you’re being kept in for a way out… but your choices are pretty slim! There’s the door–metal, heavy, fit for a bunker, and shut, of course, but that means that someone’s bound to come eventually, right?

Then there’s the wall to your right–or rather a mirror. You’d wager it’s some kind of one-way window or something, but you can’t tell for sure… your head hurts too much!

Lastly, there’s the decor: a singular flickering light that swings above you like a headache-inducing pendulum, and a lone grate on the ground just big enough to stuff a tennis ball into. You don’t want to consider what they drain outta’ here…

S-Stan?” Mutters a very bedraggled-sounding Ly, “W-what da’ hell…?”

What do?
>TRY TO SHIMMY TOWARDS THE WINDOW!
>SHOUT! SEE IF YOU CAN GET SOMEONE TO OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!
>ASK LY WHAT THE HELL’S GOING ON!
>ATTEMPT TO KNOCK OVER YOUR GURNEY!
>WAIT PATIENTLY–THERE’S GOTTA BE A REASON YOU AREN’T DEAD YET!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5369242
>WAIT PATIENTLY–THERE’S GOTTA BE A REASON YOU AREN’T DEAD YET!
Either this is a coma-induced fever-dream, or we’ve been captured by Goodboy. Or a race of highly-advanced sewer-mutants. We might as well pretend to still be unconscious. Or better yet, make a show of being out of it. Like we’re addled or under the influence of something. It’ll definitely throw whoever’s around off-guard, even if they know we’re actually awake.
>>
>>5369242
>>ASK LY WHAT THE HELL’S GOING ON!
>WAIT PATIENTLY–THERE’S GOTTA BE A REASON YOU AREN’T DEAD YET!
>>
>>5369247
+1
>>
>>5369246
>WAIT... AND ACT REALLY CLUELESS (MORESO THAN USUAL!)

>>5369247
>>5369260
>BUT ALSO ASK LY WHAT'S HAPPENING!
Writing!
>>
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Squirming under the oppressive light looming above, you flex your dried-out vocal cords into a faint query:

Ly, you hiss, what’s going on?

I didn’t… didn’t get a good look…” He replies in an apologetic tone as a singular camera watches you like a hawk from the corner of the room, “But I think… I think we’re in-

Before he can finish, your answer comes in the form of two GOOD BOY SECURITY GOONS entering the room! Waiting for the door to fully open with a metallic hiss, the two guards wordlessly march in and take position at both ends of your gurney!

Wha.. you babble with a trickle of drool dripping out the side of your mouth to match your dazed expression, Whadooin?

G-good idea, cup…” Ly stammers as the guards silently wheel you out of the cell, “Really sell… really sell da’ ‘confused’ bit… H-ham it up…

You’re… you’re not acting, though! If Ly hears you he doesn’t say anything, and as you’re taken through a long, dark, and almost familiar prison hallway, your fuzzy mind is still able to discern that something is terribly wrong: though your cell was clean as a futuristic whistle, the outside is filled with the stench of death. Gunpowder. Blood. Vomit and voided bowels. Wheeled past pools of blood and still-smoking bullet holes and casings, you get the feeling that you’re in the right place… but not at all how you planned!

The rest of the trip becomes a blur as your near-death experience and sewer-induced breakdown throttle your brain like a drunk in a pub brawl. Despite your dazed and confused status, however, you’re not spared from the sounds around you–mainly hollow screams and shouts followed by reports of gunfire-quick and efficient-then silence.

By the time you come to once more, you hear the dull ‘ding’ of an elevator reaching a floor followed by the sound of said elevator’s doors opening. Still drooling like a baby, you open your eyes to find yourself in some kind of theater… a dark, spacious room dominated by a massive screen stuffed with Lodge security feeds.

Positioning you upright, your two escorts turn to leave the way they came, but their hasty retreat is cut short by the sound of a faint ‘ssshk’ at head level.

… and another.

As the skeletons crumble to the floor behind you, someone, or something behind you clicks a button, and like a floodgate bursting with water, the room is flooded with a chaotic din of screaming, gunshots, and explosions as the feeds unmute!

MEDICAL WING. ADMIN. THE COMMONS. Each screen shows the same thing: Clearwater’s Refugees being gunned down like rabid dogs by Good Boy Security.

You’re left to watch uninterrupted for what feels like minutes until an unfamiliar hand places itself on your shoulder…

And a heavily-modulated voice whispers in your ear:

Guess WHO?

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5369297
Still watching the carnage unfold on the screen, your bonds wouldn’t let you look behind you if you tried.

Guess WHO, Stanley.” Drones the voice uncomfortably close to your ear.

How do you respond?
>STAY SILENT. WHOEVER THEY ARE DOESN’T EVEN DESERVE A RESPONSE!
>BE FLIPPANT. SOME JACKASS, THAT’S WHO!
>IGNORE THE QUESTION. WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY DOING?
>SPIT ON THE FANCY, POLISHED FLOOR!
>GUESS! (WHO IS IT?)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
Aaaaand on that note we're gonna call it here tonight! Work's going late tomorrow, so I can't promise an update until around 8-9PM PST. Might get earlier than that, but again, no promises.

Apologies if this is a big shift from the sewers--I'll be the first to admit that writing a -1 is pretty tricky. All the same, I hope you guys join me next time! Thanks again!
>>
>>5369299
>>BE FLIPPANT. SOME JACKASS, THAT’S WHO!
>>
>>5369299
>GUESS! (WHO IS IT?)
gonna guess Tim even though its obviously wrong
>>
>>5369299
>WRITE-IN!
Continue to lay there drooling and mumbling. Hopefully they’ll get so aggravated they’ll do something stupid.
>>
>>5369393
Supporting
>>
>>5369393
Support, being aggravating is our greatest asset. And you know, buying time for Nats to recover and rip out of here like a bat out of hell.
>>
>>5369393
>>5369495
>>5369666
>DAZED AND STILL CONFUSED!

>>5369350
>TIM!

>>5369309
>LOL SOME JACKASS

Got up a little early today, so before work and shit happens... ROLL ME 1d100+8 (+3 BUNNY SUIT (NO EARS! : O) +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 CINNAMON-SUGAR SCENT, +5 ACTUALLY STILL FUCKED UP, -10 THIS PERSON KNOWS YOUR TRICKS) TO PASS AS A NEAR-VEGETABLE! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>5369691
>>
Rolled 31 + 8 (1d100 + 8)

>>5369691
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>5369691
These dice
>>
Addendum: it's clearly our creepy ceo, evil backstabbing mastermind of everything
>>
Ack, gotta go! Looks like you guys passed, though! Going late tonight so can't promise an update til later--most likely around 8-9 if at all. Sorry for that!

>>5369725
Interesting theory there, anon!
>>
>>5369691
>+5 CINNAMON-SUGAR SCENT

This implies one of two things, and neither of them is good. Either this individual is a demon, or they are charmed by us. But yeah, probably Sonny/Sunny.
>>
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Uh-uh! Nope. Whoever this psycho is, you ain't giving them the satisfaction of playing their little peekaboo game... not yet, at least! Rather than give them the answer they clearly crave, you instead stick to your guns: being dazed and half-conscious!

"Hm?" Drones the voice as you respond to their command with an incomprehensible mumble, "Hey. Heey. Stanley. Wakey-wakey eggs-n-bakey."

You barely respond save for a noncommittal gurgle that roughly translates to: 'Fat chance, dick! You've been sleeping in and refusing to wake up your whole life! Even if you do the 'eggs-n-bakey' thing, it ain't happening!'

"StaAaAn..." Persists the modified voice in an unnervingly-playful tone, "I'm gonna lick your cheek if you don't answer~"

You just spent an inordinate amount of time floating through a river of shit--you can live with that!

Feeling something sharp poke into your cheek, you feel a faint trickle of blood run down your face before it's swiftly scooped up by your captor... and sampled, judging by the subsequent smacking of their lips.

"Hm! Thought it'd be more tangy... Welp, if you're still conked out then that makes this next part a lot easier... now where were w-D'OH! Alway when I'm in the middle of something..."

Before the mystery tormentor can perform whatever sick process they were planning on doing, they pause.

"Speakiiiing! Talk to me, honeybuns."

Phones don't work and you didn't hear them take out a radio... a headset, maybe?

"Right on schedule," The voice purrs, pronouncing the word as 'shedule', "AHEAD of it, in fact! Yep, you wouldn't believe who just washed up in the WASTE MANAGEMENT FACILITY like an old candy wrapper-hey, right on the first try!"

Despite talking loudly behind you, the speaker is careful not to reveal themselves. Do... Do they think you're gonna wake up?

"About to give OPERATION SMOKEOUT the green light--place is a, heh, boneyard save for a few stragglers in those pesky panic rooms... As for our special guest, well..."

The voice pauses, no doubt to glance your way. "She's still out of it... D'awww, I KNOW, she's had a twugh kwouple of dways! Hahah! Anyways, I'm gonna cut to the chase here and meet up with you after, okay?"

Another halt.

"Well of COURSE I'll save some for you! I'll... just let me track down some Tubberware or something and I'll bring you your half. No. Noooo... of course you can trust me! ... Well I got you out of that Christmas fiasco, didn't I?"

Something snaps in your head--something that nearly springs you out of your pretend stupor!

"Hey, no apologies, you! You know me--I never get mad! Hey. HEY! On three, okay? One... twooo.... THREE! I LOVE YOU!"

If you weren't so shocked by that 'Christmas' bit you'd be puking right now.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5370232
"Alright, honeybuns, I’m on the clock here, okay? Ciao!" Giving the headset another exaggerated kiss, the speaker lets out a drawn-out sigh before giving your cheek another poke with their sharp object. A knife? Nah, too thin--an ice pick?

"Poor wittle Stanley... guess that sewage really did a number on ya', huh? Well hey, if you have any objections to me carving you open and drinking all your MAGICAL MARROW, say 'pinecone'! No? Atta' girl, nose to the grindstone, I like that... Hokay, here goes..."

Before you can do anything, you see a long, thin blur dart towards your right elbow!
ROLL 1d100-2 (+3 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 BONE SPEED, -5 SPEAKER SPEED, -10 ACTUALLY STILL OUT OF IT FROM THE SEWAGE) TO STOP THEM! UNLESS YOU WANT THEM TO CUT YOU, FOR SOME WEIRD REASON! SICKO! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! If you've got anything to say to interrupt them with, WRITE IT IN!
>>
Rolled 91 - 2 (1d100 - 2)

>>5370235
“Nah, I’ve put up with enough shit for one day, thanks.”
>>
Rolled 79 - 2 (1d100 - 2)

>>5370235
>>
Rolled 66 - 2 (1d100 - 2)

>>5370235
>>
>>5370243
>>5370248
>>5370256
>HIGHEST ROLL: 89!
Hate to BITCH out all of a sudden, folks, but I'm wiped from today and don't really feel up to forcing an update--is it cool if I pay you back FRIDAY AROUND 4-5ish PST instead? I'll definitely have more energy then!
>>
>>5370269
Rest easy senpai!
>>
This is a bit left field...but I think this might be Boris Ponderosa's previously thought dead mother. Ok, that's tremendously left field, but we know Boris is coming back into this picture somehow...
>>
>>5370307
That’s so left field it swings back around to the right field again.
>>
>>5370235
BEAT HIM UP WITH THE GURNEY!
>>
>>5370307
It's probably Boris' mother AND Boris trying to kill Stanley for her life essence to somehow preserve the mother who is, more than likely, a bag of bones-- that's my half-assed guess.

In which case Boris is either THE traitor or A traitor and everyone who was unironically shitting on him the whole quest was right about him all along.

FUCK YOU BORIS.
>>
>>5370609

Stan does emit enough wild magic to summon demons and power Atlantis, with the right setup she could probably resurrect the dead.

Hopefully we get some interesting information on the nature and origin of Stan's wildmagic and fugue states, I'm still betting on everything starting and ending with good boy.
>>
>>5370307
BORIS YOU MOTHERFUCKER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
>>
>>5370635
>>5370609
Which would mean Sunny is actually Boris’ mother?
>>
Well well, you guys were certainly busy while I was gone! Writing!
>>
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You’d like to think you’re a pretty decent actress, but you’re not committed to the craft enough to let your arm get diced like an onion! Giving said limb a futile shake in the confines of its bonds, you spring into action with another one of your FAMOUS QUIPS:

‘Nah, I’ve put up with enough shit for one day, thanks.’

Despite your nonchalant delivery and frankly unconcerned tone, the weapon about to bisect your arm from your body stops on a dime and quickly retracts out of sight like a chameleon’s tongue!

“Ha! Just had to set me up for the joke, huh? I had a hunch you were awake, Stanley!”

Letting loose another heavily-modified laugh, the figure behind you chucks some kind of RESPIRATOR across the room!

“Good… good… I was hoping we’d have a chance to chat a bit before… well I guess you could call it… severance pay?”
https://youtu.be/_bIiXPPEm4A
The voice’s owner gives your hair a playful tousle before revealing themselves in front of you. Clad in an all-too-familiar white long coat, matching business suit, and a black dress shirt topped off with a Good Boy tie, you feel a pit form in your stomach as SONNY BRUCKMANN JR. cocks their blonde head to the side and gives you a toothy grin!

You friggin’ knew it…

“Gee, that’s a shame. Probably could have taken me aside for a lil’ power meeting before all this happened!” Jokes your boss as they gesture to the ongoing chaos in the security footage. “I love ya’, Stan, but your timing could use a little peer review, if you don’t mind my saying!”

Pacing around the room like they own the damn place (damn! They DO!), you fail to cover up your surprise when you realize what your boss is doing! Wait a sec, you mutter, weren’t they-

“Crippled? Handicapped? Differently-abled?” They reply, raising an eyebrow as their visible yellow eye watches you with unhealthy interest. “You’ll be happy to know I’m all better now, Stan–I’m cured!”

Raising what used to be a stump in your direction, you bring your head back as far as it can go in restraints when a set of gnarled, gaunt, branchlike claws appear in front of your face in the blink of an eye! Showing off their replacement leg in a similar fashion, Sonny gives the claws on their new arm a quick snap to demonstrate. “Oooor maybe I always had these and was just pretending before? I’m what you call a ‘pathological liar’, Stanley–slipped my mind earlier. Sorry, but I am who I am!”

“But who da’ hell are they, really?”

Good question, Ly.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5370979
Running their thorny fingers through your hair, the CEO clicks their tongue in disappointment. “It’s sad, really: you act a little eccentric and you can get away with anything nowadays…”

Turning to watch the security footage, Sonny shakes their head as the bedlam increases with every passing second. “For what it’s worth, Stan, I take no pleasure in what’s happening here–not one smidge.”

Facing you once more with their glowing eye, the boss punctuates their statement with a playful shrug! “But ya’ can’t run a company on kindness–been sayin’ it for years now!”

Looks like they’re in a talkative mood, at least, and that might buy Talbot and the others time to do… whatever they’re planning… you’re pretty sure you have time for about THREE TOPICS…

>WHO’S HONEYBUNS, HUH?
>CHRISTMAS. TALK. NOW.
>WHAT THE HELL DO YOU GET OUT OF KILLING THE WHOLE TOWN?
>OPERATION SMOKEOUT? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO TO THESE PEOPLE?
>SERIOUSLY: WHERE’D YOU GET THOSE LIMBS FROM, HUH?
>SO YOU’VE BEEN WORKING WITH TIM THIS WHOLE TIME? HOW?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5370981
>>CHRISTMAS. TALK. NOW.

Honeybuns is Boris, no doubt about it. Don't waste time there. Actually fuck it. Let's have CANON satisfaction that Boris is an unironic asshole.

So:
>WHO’S HONEYBUNS, HUH?

Then we can kill him for real. :-)


>WHAT THE HELL DO YOU GET OUT OF KILLING THE WHOLE TOWN?

She's in-league with the lich and don't convince me otherwise, hence Operation smokeout and why she's killing the refugees. They're definitely going in the bonepile.
>>
>>5370986
I'll second this line of questioning. Who do we need to kill next, how do we fit into this mess, and what's the next problem we need to thwart?
>>
>>5370986
+1
>>
It's all coming together. Sunny (who is actually his ancestor kept young by evil magic) has been planning this for decades. He buys and renovates the mines, intending to make it the Lodge. He builds the dog bone factory as an excuse to stockpile bones. Then he brings Tim back to life, perfectly positioned to immediately form an army. Then he empowers that asshat BORIS with a mask to actively gather up the townsfolk into the lodge. He even arranged for the bravest people to go on 'patrol' so he could arrange their deaths in tandem with Tim. With all the boldest out of the picture Sonny is free to murder the captive townsfolk, confident that most of the town is here in the lodge, not scattered in the woods or in buildings.

I even bet the security goons have been slowly deboned over time, they stopped doing skin checks after a while didn't they?
>>
>>5370986
>>5371018
>>5371028
>CHRISTMAS!
>WHO'S HONEYBUNS?
>WHAT'S YOUR DAMN MOTIVE, STUPID?
Writing!

>>5371067
Interesting theory, anon!
>>
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Yea, you nod as best you can being locked into a gurney, they’ve been saying a lot of things, haven’t they? Christmas, you snarl, TALK.

“Ooohoho, now that’s the go-getter attitude I like to see!” Sonny says with a sadistic chuckle! “You can order me around any day, hon-”

Struggling against your restraints, all you get out of your boss is an unimpressed eyeroll. “All business today, aren’t we? Very well, Stanley, I suppose you’ve earned a little treat by now… not that you managed to uncover our traitor problem. Or save the day…”

Leaving you with a coquettish wink, Sonny strolls over to the bank of security monitors and begins to leisurely rifle through the desk below. What the hell are they doing!?

“Why, finding the original footage, of course!” Replies the boss in a jaunty tone! “You know what they say about pictures being worth words, don’t you? Well I’m certain that video will be worth quite a few, yes?”

They ain’t wrong–taking a breather for a moment, you wait for a minute or two before you realize they’re just deliberately opening and closing drawers. HEY!

“D’oh, I’m sorry, Stanley–it completely slipped my mind!” Groans Sonny with mock embarrassment as they turn to face you with a matching look on their face! “I’d love to show you footage of the thuggish brute who manhandled and maimed Blumenkrantz’ pride and joy, but, and promise you won’t be cross with me, someone disposed of the evidence! Of all the rotten luck, hm?”

Yea, you growl as Sunny returns giggling like a hyena, you don’t buy that for a second!

“Well it’s a good thing I ain’t in the BS business, huh?” They reply as they give your ribs a good nudge! “D’aww, don’t be mad, Stan–you’re so much cuter when you smile!” Giving your cheek a pinch with their monstrous claw, the boss lets out a drawn-out sigh. “But I suppose I owe you a little clarity–I did inadvertently get a peek under your coveralls when I cleaned you off, after all… top notch, by the way!”

Quit screwing around and talk, you sicko, you snarl as you nip at the thumbs up your boss gives you!

“Okay, OKAY, I had the skeletons do it, honest! Would I lie to you?”

Go to Hell!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5371192
“So feisty!” They giggle, clapping their hands together! “Well I can tell you this with absolute certainty, my pet: a certain… associate of mine had a bit too much giggle-juice and tried to force himself onto Christy, not you...” Sonny’s expression darkens with mild irritation. “Naturally I was SCANDALIZED, but this person, well… I find it hard to say no to them… very hard…”

So what, you growl as Sunny looks away with a wistful sigh, they just decided to pin it on you?

“You pinned it on yourself, really.” Replies your boss with a bored shrug. “I’d heard you suffered from those FUGUE STATES when I skimmed your files once upon a time, but when you just happened to be suffering from one that night? Why, it’d be downright irresponsible of me not to use it to our advantage, wouldn’t it?”

A sly grin forms on the boss’ pale face. “And imagine how giddy I was when we learned what caused those episodes? And when we realized we could TRIGGER them? MMM!” Sunny gushes, kisses their fingers like a chef! “Why, I’d be a fool to let you go after that! What a TREAT you were, Stan!”

Wait, you mutter as the realization slowly settles in, so this whole time… they knew?

“Why Stanley, you INSULT me!” Sunny scoffs, “I make it a point to read over all of my employee’s files–what is this company without their sweat, blood and tears?”

They narrow their eye at you like a wolf stalking a rabbit. “And what kind of boss would I be if I didn’t capitalize on that tasty little tidbit?” Sunny taps their chin in thought. “Why, now that you mention it, Stanley, I’m sure I saw something inside that drawer… don’t go anywhere, okay?”

Returning to the security booth, Sonny swiftly retrieves a video cassette from one of the draws and blows the dust off its surface before shoving it into an ancient VCR!

“Be kind, rewind…” They say with a snort as they fast-forward through what appears to be a day of work at the factory. Stopping near the end, Sunny scampers over to you with remarkable speed and wheels your gurney closer to the screen! Tapping the play button, the two of you watch as the feed shifts to an abandoned factory floor–BONE PROCESSING, to be precise. Before you can ask, your answer comes in the form of a familiar Evening Sanitation Coordinator staggering past the camera like a zombie!

“No need to be self-conscious, Stan–the camera adds ten pounds to everyone!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5371193
You’re-well, the past you is clutching something in her arms. Something that doesn’t resemble any animal bone you’ve ever seen before! As the realization slowly dawns on you, Sonny gives your shoulder a playful shake as they nod excitedly!

“You wouldn’t BELIEVE how many shifts it took… one per bone, if you can believe it–had to be hush-hush!”

The color drains from your face as your boss rewinds the video and plays it for you again. N-no…

“Y-yes.” They nod. “Hey, don’t be glum, chum! If my eye doesn’t deceive me, you look like you just scored yourself some OVERTIME! Up top!”

Raising their hand for you to slap, Sonny stifles a grin when, naturally, you fail to reciprocate. “D’aww, don’t be mad–did you really think I’d put someone on the graveyard shift all alone when they suffered from a medical issue? Don’t worry–I had one of my best employees monitoring you… every. Single. Shift.” They blink. “Well, not every shift–we’d switch off now and then. Only fair!”

This… this employee, you stammer, head still reeling from the footage being looped on the screen, that’s their Honeybuns’, isn’t it?

WHAT?! WHO TOLD YOU?! WHO TALKED!?” Roars Sonny as they shove your gurney over onto the floor in a sudden fit of rage! “WHY, IF I FIND OUT WHO SQUEALED I’LL SKIN THEI-oh, you were eavesdropping, weren’t you? Naughty naughty!”

Wagging their gnarled finger with a few disapproving clicks of their tongue, the boss squats down to your level. “Yes, Stanley, the rumors and tabloids are true… I tried to keep it a secret, but, well, I can’t stay quiet anymore!” Standing up with their arms spread towards the heavens, the boss proclaims their secret to the whole room! “I… I’m in love, Stanley! Well, been in love.” Giving you an apologetic look, Sunny shrugs. “Sorry, Stanley, I didn’t mean to lead you on, but-”

Who the hell are they, you interrupt!

“Hmmm… sorry, Stanley, but I’m not the kind of person to kiss and tell... though if it’s you asking I’d be more than happy to kiss… and do a few other things instead…”

Lifting your gurney back up with one hand, Sonny lets out a brief sigh. “Now I know what you’re thinking, my pet, but don’t worry–he knows how I feel about you… and he’s fine with it. All of it, baby.” Sonny concludes with a wry grin.

So that’s how it is, you mutter to yourself as you feel jigsaw pieces fitting into the holes in your head, they’re just doing what this ‘Honeybuns’ wants, huh? Lame!

“Jealousy really doesn’t suit you, Stan. "Huffs Sunny as they lean against a nearby wall. “And I suppose you’ve earned an explanation or two…”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5371194
“First of all,” Sonny begins, “What exactly do you know about my father, hm? Pop Quiz!”

Enough, you say with a shrug. His ancestors found TIM and formed that stupid cult to him, then Sonny Bruckmann Sr. formed the company, made a few weird investments, and died of, you dunno, AIDS, probably.

“Ooh, see me after class, Parble… Please!” Replies your boss with a wink! “Well you know the basics, and that’s more than enough–but there’s a few bits and pieces you didn’t touch on and that hurt your score, I’m afraid…”

Drumming their claws against the wall, Sonny runs their other hand through their slicked-back blonde hair revealing an eyepatch covering their other eye. “To his adoring public, daddy was a knight in polyester three-piece armor. But behind closed doors, well… he was anything but.”

Let me guess, you groan, this is the part where they explain why they’re not that evil, right? Where they justify killing a whole town?

“Something like that!” Sunny shrugs with a laugh! “Being a Bruckmann and the face of Clearwater, daddy eventually got to wanting an heir–most people do eventually.” Your boss starts carving divots into the wall with their claw. “He got one… in a manner of speaking. My father never failed to remind me well into my teens that when I was born, the doctor burst from the operating room caked in blood claiming that I had ‘clawed my way out of my mother’. You can imagine how he felt about that!”

Giving the wall one more stab, Sonny returns to your side and places an arm around your shoulders. “Ooh, he was CROSS, Stanley! A murderer… and a DAUGHTER no less?! Not a day went by he didn’t tell me how much he LOATHED me! How I CHEATED him out of his legacy!

And when he learned from his fellow cultists that I had absorbed WILD MAGIC my mother had soaked up during their little cult playdates, well…” Your boss shoots you a knowing glance, “My brief tenure as his daughter ended… and I was ‘promoted’ to magic guinea pig.”

A long, weary sigh drifts from Sonny’s mouth. “I can’t be too mad at daddy, of course. If he hadn’t locked me up under the guise of being at ‘Boarding School’ I never would have felt the need to reach out to their dusty old savior behind their back!” A dreamy smile slowly forms on Sunny’s face. “And I never would have met, well, my partner either! So when my father suddenly fell ill a few years ago, Stanley, I wasn’t too broken up about it! And when his cultist friends just so happened to vanish during this unfortunate tragedy you’ve been cleaning up, well…” She shrugs again. “I feel almost liberated, in a way!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5371196
So the Chief of Police… the Dean… all of the-

“Oh don’t feel sorry for them, Stan–if we hadn’t summoned TIBIUS then they would have eventually… or did you not notice those magical traps and devices those old fools kept around?”

Yea, well-

“Nothing but a school of pretentious old fish lording over the glorified mudhole they called home.” Spits Sunny as she runs her claws through your hair. “But my… associate… and I? Well, we’ve got big plans, Stanley–big plans, and they involve appeasing that magic-slinging fossil up there a little longer.”

A big grin forms on Sonny’s face as she imagines said plans next to you. “Which, as you have no doubt surmised by now, is why you’re here and not face-down in a sea of crap! Not a bad deal, huh?”

And just what might those plans be, huh?

“Ah-ah-ah! I’ve spilled way too many beans already, you little MINX, you!” Giggles Sunny as she tweaks your nose! “Now I’d just like to say that I tried, Stan… OH how I tried! I tried SO hard to find a solution that keeps you alive through all this, but, well, it just wasn’t meant to be, I’m afraid… I even had the good DOCTOR DEVON working on a solution–well, his bones, anyways. He wasn’t very cooperative while he was still breathing, you see.”

Before you can respond, your boss whips out a familiar bloodied surgical mask from her breast pocket. “Nor was he very forthcoming about that SERUM he made from your blood–can you believe he was going to destroy it? Sounds like he took the ‘Hypocritical Oath’, huh?”

Dropping the sullied surgical mask to the floor, the boss gives you a halfhearted shrug. “I’d love to say this was just business, Stanley, but I’d be lying–truth is it’s personal… very personal.”

Nuzzling your cheek, Sunny lets out a contented sigh. “Don’t worry–I’ll take care of your remains… extra special care…”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5371197
For a brief moment, you can almost hear something rustling in the vents above you. Sounds like you’ve got time for ONE more question or comment before something happens!

>OPERATION SMOKEOUT? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO TO THESE PEOPLE?
>WHERE’S BLUMENKRANTZ? CHRISTY? THE OTHERS?
>YOU REALIZE TIM’S GONNA MOP THE FRIGGIN’ FLOOR WITH YOU, RIGHT?
>YOU’RE GOING DOWN, BOSS. VERY, VERY SOON.
>WRITE-IN!

That's all for tonight, by the way--still pooped from work today! Should have more SATURDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST, but have a few plans later on in the day so it might be sporadic. Hope to see you then!
>>
>>5371200
>OPERATION SMOKEOUT? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO TO THESE PEOPLE?
>>YOU REALIZE TIM’S GONNA MOP THE FRIGGIN’ FLOOR WITH YOU, RIGHT?
>>
>YOU REALIZE TIM’S GONNA MOP THE FRIGGIN’ FLOOR WITH YOU, RIGHT?

See if we can goad a weakness for Tim out of her.
>>
>>5371200
>YOU REALIZE TIM’S GONNA MOP THE FRIGGIN’ FLOOR WITH YOU, RIGHT?
>>
>>5371200
>YOU REALIZE TIM’S GONNA MOP THE FRIGGIN’ FLOOR WITH YOU, RIGHT?
>>
>>5371200
>YOU REALIZE TIM’S GONNA MOP THE FRIGGIN’ FLOOR WITH YOU, RIGHT?

Try and convince her that Tim is already aware of her plans Because he probably is.
>>
>>5371200
>YOU REALIZE TIM’S GONNA MOP THE FRIGGIN’ FLOOR WITH YOU, RIGHT?
>>
More than a little late to change my vote but...

> WRITE IN
You're just like your father. You've been controlling and manipulating me, seeing me as just another wild magic tool, just like your daddy did to you. And Tim is doing the same to you. You know what that means right? You're just as chained up as I am right now.

Sonny is probably too much of a magnificent bastard to care, but there are more than a few parallels between her and Stan.
>>
>>5371204
>>5371248
>>5371274
>>5371292
>>5371351
>>5371357
>FISHIN' FER WEAKNESSES!

>>5371204
SAME AS ABOVE BUT ALSO PICKED ANOTHER ONE BECAUSE THEY THINK THEY'RE SPECIAL... AND OKAY, I GUESS THEY ARE, KINDA! STILL NOT GIVING YOU TWO DIALOGUES THOUGH, SNEAKY SALLY!

>>5371469
>CALL 'ER OUT!

Looks like we're dredging for info, folks. ROLL ME 1d100+3(+3 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 CINNAMON-SUGAR, -10 THEY KNOW YOUR TRICKS) I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 71 + 3 (1d100 + 3)

>>5371524
>>
Rolled 46 + 3 (1d100 + 3)

>>5371524
>>
Feel free to roll again--you basically passed and I've got plans in the afternoon so I don't mind rushing things along a little bit!
>>
Rolled 40 + 3 (1d100 + 3)

>>5371646
>>
>>5371532
>>5371604
>>5371654
>HIGHEST ROLL: 74!
Writing! Thanks for that!
>>
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You… you really should have something to say here–something that’ll crack the case and solve everything in one fell swoop, right?

But in that split second, all you can do is laugh as everything that’s happened in the past few hours crashes onto your already-flimsy psyche like a bowling ball onto a cardboard box! It’s… this is all just… just STUPID!

“Now now, in the entrepreneurial world we call that stuff ‘WEAK SPEAK,’ Stan! Gotta flush that stuff outta’ your system!” Giving your shoulder another playful shake, Sonny lets out a nostalgic sigh. “Ah, if the board of directors could see me now-”

No, you giggle, sh-SHE’S the stupid one! She and her dumbass partner! They did all this just to get a crack at TIM? He’s gonna flip them both like OMELETTES!

“Glowing endorsement aside, it’s kinda funny you of all people say that, Stanley.” Chuckles your boss as she rubs her chin with her claw. “Or do you really think you could defeat him without the powers you pilfered from his thralls?”

Damn right you stole ‘em, you reply nodding confidently, and that’s more than they could ever slap together! Creeping around in the shadows like a bunch of wusses!

“Is that any way to speak to your boss?” Sunny asks with a wry grin on her face! “I knew that workplace etiquette seminar wouldn’t stick, but did HR believe me? No..” Drumming her fingers along your arm, the boss leans in close to your face. “At any rate, Stan, you don’t need to worry about me–I’m no stranger to the occasional… hostile takeover.”

Snipping her clawed fingers together like a pair of really messed-up scissors, Sonny snips off a lock of your hair and idly stuffs it into her breast pocket. “You tend to pick up a thing or two when your father runs a cult–sometimes a replacement limb, sometimes a boost in speed… not to mention knowing who originally defeated the lich… as well as having his sig-”

Before she can finish, the room is rocked by a roll of quakes ripping through the facility! As the lights shake above and the security monitors teeter on the wall, your gurney tumbles to the floor once more as a low chuckle escapes your boss’ grinning mouth! OW!

“Well, well, is it that time already? Oh Stanley, time spent with you just flies by…” Strolling over to the security desk, she presses a few keys bringing back camera footage to the screens!

“Let’s see here…” Sunny begins, clicking her tongue as if reading a menu at a restaurant, “Multiple simultaneous detonations spaced all across the facility occurring just far enough from saferooms to get the thralls to investigate the damages…” Shaking her head, the boss turns towards you with a smile on her face!

“Blumenkrantz is making his move! Gotta admire his tenacity… guess this is what I get for hiring a veteran, huh?”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5371701
Watching the chaos unfold with a growing grin, Sonny lets out another long, weary sigh as she begins to dig around in one of her many coat pockets!

“Well you know how much I love our little talks, Stanley, but I’ve gotta scoot to my next meeting–those stragglers won’t wipe themselves out, after all! So what say we put a pin in this for now, okay?” Retrieving a familiar REMOTE-CONTROL DEVICE from her pocket, she gives the gizmo a quick toss before pointing it at your bound form!

“Now I know how sneaky and slippery you can be, so I’m just gonna turn you off for a little bit until I get back! Don’t worry–it’ll be just like taking a catnap! Or a raccoonnap in your case! Kisses!”

Before you can protest, everyth
OW!

Your senses return with a bang as your ears are buffeted by the dull ringing of a facility-wide alarm and your face is drenched with a layer of hot mist! Wiping it off with your hand, you nearly choke when you find your mouth stuffed with something salty… and familiar.

Pickle Chips?

And wait a sec, how’d you get free?!

The answer to both your questions appears in front of you as the fuzziness slowly fades from your eyes revealing the fuzziness currently biting your head in an attempt to wake you up!

“L-Lil’ Stanley!”

Ly’s right! Rising from the floor, you bring your ‘pet’ into a hug and send the half-empty bag of chips scattering across the floor–you thought she was a goner!

Chittering in relief, the raccoon gives your face a quick lick before squirming out of your hands and scampering towards the room’s exit past the chewed-up remains of your bonds!

“Never thought I’d be happy ta’ see dat thing…” Remarks your skeleton as you slowly rise to your feet. “Now we just gotta’ find da’ others… an’ our stuff.”

Cracking your stiff neck, you take a moment to scan the security feeds for clues as to where-aha! BINGO!

A familiar white-suited figure strides confidently past the feed marked ‘MAIN LIFE SUPPORT ACCESS’!

“If I wanted ta’ kill a whole bunker, I’d be headin’ there too…” Ly mutters as Lil’ Stanley returns from her scouting mission! “Riiight, forgot da’ Doc lost dis’ fuzzball in da’ vents for a while… guess she knows her way around!”

Looking up at you expectantly, it almost seems like Lil’ Stanley is asking where you want her to take you! Well…

>BLUMENKRANTZ! BIG, SCARY GUY!
>TALBOT AND THE OTHERS! FRIENDLY!
>EQUIPMENT! GUNS! CLOTHES! SHOES!
>BOSS! BAD! EVIL! CREEPY!
>LIFE SUPPORT! UH… BIG MACHINES?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5371702
>LIFE SUPPORT! UH… BIG MACHINES?
>>
>LIFE SUPPORT! UH… BIG MACHINES?

See if we can get there first and ambush Sonny. Better keep a mouthful of pickle chips for our focus.

The person who defeated Tim's...

Sign? Signature? Signora? Cigarettes? Signed holy book of holy stuff?
>>
>>5371731
>>5371752
>LIFE SUPPORT! BIG MACHINES!
Writing!
>>
>>5371702
>>LIFE SUPPORT! UH… BIG MACHINES?
>>
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Feeling sensation slowly return to your extremities, you contemplate how to respond for a moment before walking over to the security terminals! There, you explain, finding the feed depicting LIFE SUPPORT: a mountain of almost steam age machines so big it spans several monitors, can she take you there?

Scratching the back of her ear with her hind leg, the raccoon studies the feeds with the eyes of a professional–r-raccoons have good eyesight, r-right?

“You sure we don’t wanna find our stuff first, kid?” Ly asks as Lil’ Stanley hops onto the desk and starts feeling the monitors with her almost human-like paws!

No time, you frown, if Sonny’s already on her way then that means you don’t have much time… and neither do those remaining refugees in the saferooms! Plucking a pink POST-EM NOTE from one of the monitors, you stick it over your missing eye and sigh–you’ll just have to make do with whatever you find along the way!

YOUR LASER EYE AND INVENTORY IS GONE! YOU CAN-

Uh, you literally just explained that, asshole! Quit it!

CHRIST, ‘SORRY’!

As you quietly lament your lack of shoes (but thank whoever’s watching up there that you still have prisoner’s coveralls), you feel a tiny paw tug at your leg–guess your pet’s ready to go!

Taking the lead, the woodland critter starts by hopping onto your overturned gurney, then up into the vent she apparently climbed down from! After making sure the coast is clear, the raccoon stares at you expectantly with glowing eyes!

Though still a little woozy from your near-death experience in the sewer, you don’t have any trouble remembering how to jump, and within seconds both of you are scurrying through the vents towards what you hope is your intended destination!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5371794
As the two of you slowly burrow deeper into the belly of the beast, you hear what little remains of THE LODGE’S safety slowly crumble around you! Crawling further into the vents, both you and your pet pause when you hear a muffled shout below you or the sound of gunfire.

“Sounds like Blumenkrantz’ guys aren’t takin’ dis’ lyin’ down…” Observes Ly as a wayward bullet punches through the vent inches from your face! “Err, we sure about dis’?”

No, you hiss as your fuzzy escort continues on ahead of you, but it’s the only plan you have right now and it’s loads better than outright scrapping with those skeletons-

You’re about to continue forward when you feel the vent creak and groan around you! Shooting you a frantic glance, Lil’ Stanley watches in helpless terror as you feel the duct start to fall!

ROLL ME 1d100+8(+3 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 BONE SPEED, -5 CRAMPED QUARTERS) TO NOT FALL! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 54 + 8 (1d100 + 8)

>>5371799
Don’t worry, folks. This ain’t the first time a vent has come off its supports because of Stan’s weight
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>5371799
>>
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>>5371821
>That spoiler
>>
Rolled 82 + 8 (1d100 + 8)

>>5371799

>>5371821
i keked
>>
>>5371831
Fuck.
>>
>>5371821
>>5371825
>>5371834
>HIGHEST ROLL: 90!
Stan stepped outside and won't stop chucking glass bottles around, so I'm just gonna start writing... hoo boy...
>>
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Leaping into action as quickly as the cramped quarters will allow, you scurry up to Lil’ Stanley like a raccoon climbing a falling tree and slip into the opening just as the duct gives up the ghost! Crashing to the cement tunnel floor below, the ductwork is immediately torn into ribbons by a high-caliber chaingun–one wielded by one of those BIG DOG ROBOT SUITS you saw back at that Top Secret Lab in the woods!

Joined by two comrades clad in Good Boy Security Exoskeletons, the robot’s just about to lock eye-err, sensors with you when a whizzing projectile smacks into its front armor plate and explodes, staggering the automaton and burning the Good Boy Mascot Decal on the front to a sizzling crisp!

LIGHT ‘EM UP!

Before the robot and his friends can retaliate, their unseen assailants (human, judging by the shout you just heard) open fire with some more rockets–reducing the exoskeletoned endoskeletons to mulch and blasting the robot’s crab claw arm into ash! Firing a few rockets of its own, the robot stomps forward undeterred as you hear its weapon hit its mark with deadly accuracy as a severed, bleeding arm flies forward from the resulting blast and bounces harmlessly off the mobile armor’s hull.

Yep, time to keep moving.

“Dat’ uh…” Ly mutters as you hurry after the impatient critter ahead of you, “Dat’ was a close one, huh?”

Yea, you growl–duct must’ve been old or something. Ancient, even–had nothing to do with your WEIGHT!

“Never said it was, cupcake.” Your skeleton replies with a hint of confusion in his disembodied voice. Continuing onwards without any more close calls, you eventually come to a grille blocking your way into what appears to be some kind of MAINTENANCE STOREROOM! Sticking her twitching nose through the vent cover, Lil’ Stanley gives you a quick nod before moving out of the way!

With one swipe of your claws, you reduce the covering to scrap and deftly land between two rows of ransacked lockers… and into a pool of cold blood. Welp, these stockings are gonna need laundering…

Speaking of, as you hastily leap to safety onto a nearby bench, you spot a few items that could come in handy!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5371884
In one open locker you find a COMPLETE SET OF GOOD BOY ARMOR–HELMET, MASK, AND EVEN A FRESH N4 AUTOMATIC RIFLE! A quick examination of the goods tells you three things: First, it seems to be clean and in working order! Second, it’s a little baggy on you (except in the waist, hip, and chest regions–don’t even START), but it should fit! Third, and most distressing: THIS IS THE MEN’S CHANGING ROOM! EEEEW!

Attempting to distract yourself, you examine the other goods you spotted! Directly across from the aforementioned SECURITY KIT is a pair of GOOD BOY MAINTENANCE COVERALLS AND RUBBER BOOTS–UNISEX AND ONE SIZE FITS ALL, BABY! It even comes with a CUTE LITTLE HELMET WITH A HEADLAMP, TOO!

The bad news is that the front is totally SPLASHED in blood, like, wow. Looks like whoever the blood on the floor belonged to sprayed a bit of it on the coveralls. Bummer. Granted you could probably wash ‘em off in a sink, but it’s not like you’ve got a lot of time on your hands right now…

Lil’ Stanley shoots you a pleading glance as you look over your options. Do you have time to change? You don’t really like walking around in your stockings, but-

Hey… what’s that?

Another locker sits ajar as well near the edge of the row–you’re just about to search it when you hear the report of muffled gunfire nearby–who knows who it belongs to!

With time not on your side, you decide to:
>MOVE ON! YOU’RE FINE WITH WHAT YA’ GOT!
>GET THAT SECURITY KIT ON! COULD MAKE A DECENT DISGUISE, MAYBE? UNLESS SOMEONE SHOOTS YOU ANYWAYS…
>MAINTENANCE GEAR IS YOUR THING!
>MIX N’ MATCH! TAKE A FEW THINGS FROM EACH! (WHICH ITEMS?)
>WAIT A SEC… IS THAT A-(WRITE-IN AN OUTFIT IN THE MYSTERY LOCKER!)
>>
That's it for today, folks--got plans in a little bit. Should have time for more SUNDAY AROUND 10-11am PST, but work resumes for me on Monday so I suspect updates might slow down a bit. Sorry for the awkward pacing--still approaching the end and you're doin' GREAT!

... so far! Hope to see you next time!
>>
>>5371885
>MIX N’ MATCH! TAKE A FEW THINGS FROM EACH! (WHICH ITEMS?)
Just grab the security vest since it’s armor and will have extra magazines, the rubber boots since they’re quick to slip on, and the N4 RIFLE.

>>5371886
Thanks again, boss.
>>
>>5371892
>>5371885

Seems like a pretty solid plan to me.
>>
>>5371885
>>5371892
Support!
>>
>>5371885
>>5371892 +1
>>
>>5371892
>>5371951
>>5372058
>>5372430
>MIXING N' MATCHING SEC VEST, RUBBER BOOTS, AND N4
>NOT STUMBLING UPON A SUIT OF POWER ARMOR
>OR MAGICAL WIZARD ROBES
>OR, I DUNNO, A LICH-BANISHING VEST
>SHIT, A SUIT MADE OF GOLD
>NOPE, JUST MIX-N'-MATCH
Based and buffoon-pilled. Writing! No takesy-backsies!
>>
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Not keen on taking your chances with a disguise (or getting filled full of holes when it fails), you opt to take the same approach you utilize when you eat at a buffet–mixing, matching, and going back for seconds!

“And thirds.” Ly mutters as you slide the SECURITY VEST over your coveralls and take the N4 RIFLE from the guard’s locker. It depends, okay?! You LOVE mashed potatoes, is that a crime!?

Topping things off by sliding on a fresh pair of RUBBER BOOTS, you load a fresh magazine into your new gun as Lil’ Stanley warily sniffs at the AIRLOCK DOORS at the end of a small tunnel on the other side of the room. Guess that’s your destination, huh?

Sidling up next to the doors, you shoot your pet a concerned glance–she smell anything? The raccoon responds with a rough pantomime of someone holding a big gun before sticking three claws into the air. Great. Any chance of another vent?

The critter shrugs. Well if she doesn’t see anything… giving yourself until the count of three, you do the countdown in your head before rushing the do-OW, FUCK!

“Yea, might wanna try openin’ it first, kid.” Ly suggests as you slowly recover from faceplanting directly into the door! Actually, you frown, you might have a plan here… when it’s clear that the guards opposite the airlock aren’t coming to investigate, you decide to…

>OPEN THE DOOR AND RUSH ‘EM! MAYBE THERE’S A FIRE EXTINGUISHER YOU CAN SHOOT TO BLIND ‘EM!
>MAKE SOME NOISE, LET ‘EM COME TO YOU, THEN OPEN THE DOOR AND BLAST ‘EM!
>SET A TRAP IN HERE AND BAIT THEM OVER! MAYBE YOU CAN SPILL SOME WATER OR SOMETHING!
>CAREFULLY OPEN THE DOOR AND HIDE WHILE LIL’ STANLEY FLANKS ‘EM!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5372747
>SET A TRAP IN HERE AND BAIT THEM OVER! MAYBE YOU CAN SPILL SOME WATER OR SOMETHING!
>>
>>5372747
>SET A TRAP IN HERE AND BAIT THEM OVER! MAYBE YOU CAN SPILL SOME WATER OR SOMETHING!
Is blood slippery? There’s a good amount of it lying around and nobody seems to be using it at the moment.
>>
>>5372823
On this floor? You betcha!

>>5372759
>>5372823
>TRAP AND BAIT!
ROLL ME 1d100+15(+5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 ELEMENT OF SURPRISE) TO SEE HOW EFFECTIVE YOUR TRAP IS! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 14 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5372866
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>5372866
>>
Rolled 40 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5372866
>>
>>5372910

I meant +15.
I assume this is still a fail?
>>
>>5372912
Why would you assume that, anon? 40+15 is 55--that's a close pass in my book! Dice mistake doesn't mean much to me!

>>5372868
>>5372874
>>5372910
>HIGHEST ROLL: 55!
Writing!
>>
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Hurrying back to the lockers, you quickly snatch up the BLOODY MAINTENANCE COVERALLS from where you found them and swiftly get to work smearing it on the floor in front of the airlock!

“Well dis’ is new.” LY remarks as Lil’ Stanley watches with visible confusion as you wring out the blood from the jumpsuit, “What, are we gonna Bloodborne Pathogen ‘em ta’ death?”

You’ve never heard of that band, so you respond with a shrug. You might be in a hurry, you huff as you dampen your ‘paint brush’ from the puddle near the lockers, but not enough of a hurry to rush into an ambush!

“So we’re gonna ambush dem’, huh?” Your bones observe with approval in their disembodied voice! “Not bad, not bad!”

Though it chills you to your very core to intentionally create a mess and, by association, create more stuff for you to clean up later, you manage to whip up a sizable slipping hazard right in front of the airlock… and you just happen to have forgotten your wet floor sign today! Nyeh heh heh!

Taking a moment to admire your DEVILISH HANDIWORK, you count to three once more as Lil’ Stanley takes cover behind you, then smack the side of the airlock with the butt of your rifle before running and diving behind the lockers!

You don’t have to wait long for the fun to start. Within seconds a trio of whirring servos herald the arrival of three EXOSKELETONED SKELETONS–their features hidden behind Good Boy Security Armor, but given away by the bright red glow behind their eye lenses! Marching through the door without hesitation, all three waste no time in scanning the room, aiming their LIGHT MACHINE GUNS at every corner like flashlights in the dark!

That’s when it happens–the lead skeleton’s footing falters as his armored foot steps into the puddle, sending the armored behemoth into an almost slapstick battle to regain his balance! Seeing your chance, you pop out of cover and immediately spray the tunnel with your rifle and send the lead bonehead tumbling to the floor in surprise!

Have a nice FALL! HA!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5372963
Unfortunately his squadmates have much more stable footing, and upon seeing you they waste no time in tearing the lockers to ribbons with their heavy weapons! As you armor up and dive to the floor, you stay low as high-caliber bullets rip through your cover! Damn it!

You stay prone as you peer out again, this time aiming lower! Blasting the rightmost skeleton’s leg into dust, you scurry back just as all three skeletons concentrate fire on the tiles you were just lying on!

Sticking behind what little remains of the lockers, your return fire is deflected by the skeleton’s armor as the one in the center rushes your position while the other two provide cover! Though you fill the charger’s chest full of lead, you feel yourself get picked up by a hydraulic-powered arm before you can get some distance! Held aloft in front of the skeleton’s gun, you manage to break free by sticking your BONE CLAWS through his helmet and into his face!

As both of you crumble to the ground in a heap, you barely manage to roll backwards as the two remaining skeletons, one now missing a leg, open fire on you again with unnerving accuracy! Feeling the burning rounds plink off your armor, you feel a solitary bead of sweat trickle down your armored brow as you notice even more skeletons approaching from the hall beyond the airlock! You’re gonna have to push through!

ROLL ME 1d100+3 (+3 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 RACCOON INTERFERENCE, -10 OUTGUNNED) TO FIGHT YOUR WAY THROUGH TO LIFE SUPPORT! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 67 + 3 (1d100 + 3)

>>5372965
>>
Rolled 39 + 3 (1d100 + 3)

>>5372965
>>
Rolled 77 + 3 (1d100 + 3)

>>5372965
I’m just gonna go ahead and roll again…
>>
Work for me--Sundays are always pretty slow!
>>5372974
>>5372979
>>5373081
>HIGHEST ROLL: 80!
Writing!
>>
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With only one way forward and none of your pals in sight, all you can do is shoot! Aiming for a pipe running along the tunnel wall, you open fire on a red valve and bowl both of your current assailants backwards with a burst of steam! Good thing you know about that stuff now, huh?

“Yep,” Ly nods as you fill one of the flatfooted skeleton’s faces full of lead, “Hey, watch out!”

Ducking beneath a burst of gunfire from another approaching skeleton, you quickly retaliate by blowing open a fire extinguisher halfway down the tunnel! As its contents spill all over your opponents, you use the explosion to rush forward and use the pool of blood you made to slide up in the remaining skeleton’s grill!

Shrugging off your bullets with his armor, the security skeleton wordlessly sends one of his exoskeleton’d arms your way in the form of a punch with the force of a jackhammer behind it! Sliding through his legs, you bring a BONE CLAW up through his pelvis and all the way through his torso! Man, if he still had flesh that’d be a nasty one!

Met with a hail of bullets from three new arrivals, you waste no time in rising to your feet and stabbing your other claw into the closest armored skeleton’s face plate! Knocked off-balance by some more gunfire, your armor takes the brunt of the blow as you stumble to the side of the tunnel as the skeleton you stabbed slowly burns away in a cloud of blue flames!

As the skeleton that hit your armor advances while still firing, he neglects to notice the snarling ball of fuzz that rushes him from his blind spot! Leaping onto his face like a creature out of a sci-fi flick, Lil’ Stanley buys you just the right amount of time to donate some lead of your own into the skeleton’s chest!

Though your bullets more or less bounce off, it gives both you and Lil’ Stanley the time you need to act–the latter leaping onto the last visible skeleton while you finish off the mauling victim with a burst of rifle fire into his face!

Doing the same for Lil’ Stanley’s final target, you break into a jog when you realize the path is clear… but stop shortly after when you come face to face with another very heavy and very locked door!

Dang it!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5373177
LIFE SUPPORT CONTROL.” Ly reads as you give the door a frustrated kick! “Figures she’d lock it behind her…”

What tipped him off, you ask as you angrily point to the heart carved into the door’s surface! Damn it, if only you had that rocket launch-

Before you can finish your rant, the control panel next to the bulkhead fizzles for a moment before a low ‘ding’ rings out across the tunnel! As you scurry over to check it out, you’re met with a short line of text:

I’m routing your friends towards you. Grandpa’s on his way too with security. Give ‘em Hell, Stan. ~C

Your face is met with a rush of hot, muggy air as the doors grind open revealing a tall, metal staircase leading into a jungle of machinery… and a squad of about eight GOOD BOY SECURITY GOONS CLAD IN EXOSKELETONS hidden behind a wall of ballistic shields. Before you can get a bullet in, your eyes are blinded by several migraine-inducing floodlights activating simultaneously!

STANLEY PARBLE: DROP YOUR WEAPON NOW!Target sighted, boss.” reports one of the guards hidden behind the light, “She’s alone.” A radio, maybe?

Wait…” Mutters another, “Wh-what happened to the skeletons?

“Probably neutralized ‘em. Fire on my signal.”

Still blinded on the stairs, you hear the sound of rifles being aimed through the barriers–a few are shaking.

“Hey…” Hisses another, “Is it true that she’s got… y’know, p-powers?”

“None that stop bullets.” Whispers another goon. “... none that I know of, at least…”

“My buddy said she took down that serial killer, though…” The worried goon fires back, “And he was a f-”

CUT THE DAMN CHATTER!” Roars the squad leader! “Boss, we need orders!”

You take a step towards the lights. No one shoots you.

“Boss says whoever takes her down gets a year’s paid vacation… company stock… aaaand their own reserved parking spot. Permanent.”

The passage becomes quiet enough to hear a pin drop. “... two years paid if it’s a clean kill.”

As the security guards quietly contemplate their options, you take another step towards them. Still no bullets.

What do?
>JUST KEEP WALKING. THEY KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
>REMIND THEM WHAT BLUMENKRANTZ WILL DO IF HE FINDS OUT ABOUT THIS!
>EXPLAIN WHAT THEIR BOSS PLANS TO DO! THEY NEED TO SEE REASON!
>FLING LIL’ STANLEY AT THEM AND TEAR THE TRAITORS APART IN THE CONFUSION!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5373182
>WRITE-IN!
Really? The living dead are wandering around outside in powered armor slaughtering anybody who can still breathe, and our boss has just gone to shut off life-support to finish the job, which will kill all of us by the way, and you idiots are concerned about paid vacations? They aren’t going to be worth anything if you’re dead, nimrods. This is the thanks we get for saving Ted and a bunch of other security goons.
>>
Gonna hold off on this until MONDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST--maybe earlier depending on how the day goes. Going back to work for real early tomorrow so ole' Bones is gonna take 'er easy for the rest of the night. Thank you again for playing and hope to see you again next time!
>>
>>5373360
>>5373182

Support! We should be ready to bolt/power-up if need be!
>>
>>5373360
>>5373182

This, plus an offhand remark that one of our powers does in fact stop bullets.
>>
>>5373458
Ye add this.
>>
>>5373182
>Do these guys really think they stand a chance? You took out both TERRY THE TERRIBLE and his brother
>>
>>5373497
Holy shit.
>>
>>5373360
>>5373379
>>5373458
>>5373461
>>5373497
>>5373589
Yea, I can probably string these all together! Writing!
>>
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It takes a few more steps before the reality of the situation hits you, and when it does all you can do is let loose an exasperated groan that causes the sentries to flinch in near-perfect unison. Really? REALLY, you dumbasses?!

“S-stand down or-”

The LIVING DEAD are strutting around the base wearing their power armor like they own the damn place and the unrepentant FREAK who DOES own the damn place is gonna kill every remaining refugee by cutting off LIFE SUPPORT! How are ya’ gonna cash in that vacation time when you’re all dead, DIPSHITS!?

“B-b-but the p-parki-”

Newsflash, piss-pants: there ain’t gonna be anything left to park on once that suit-wearing dickhead finishes up in there, so you’ve got two options, you snarl as you advance even closer to the shield wall, you can either get outta the damn way or they can hold still while you TUNNEL through ‘em!

“S-she…” Stammers one of the guards, “Sh-she’s bluffing! J-just one clear shot a-”

Silently donning your BONE ARMOR, you rap your chitonous knuckles against the side of your now-armored skull! He was saying?

If they weren’t paralyzed with fear before, they are now! Getting close enough to kick the shield wall if you really felt like it, you conclude your big argument with one more irritated groan! Are they SERIOUS right now!? HUH!? You took down all of TIM’S stupid LIEUTENANTS and more mermaids, skeletons, and demons than you can count!

“Really, she can’t count dat’ high!” Ly adds, even though they obviously can’t hear him.

Reaching to climb over the shields, you lean in close to one of the security guard’s face masks as Lil’ Stanley growls menacingly from atop your head.

Not to mention, you add in an absentminded tone, TERRY THE TERRIBLE… AND his probably-stronger brother: TORY? the uh… TORRIBLE?

You barely manage to finish saying Terry’s name before the squad disperses amidst a chorus of the words ‘Holy SHIT!’ Leaving their weapons and lights where they fall, the sniveling security goons scamper off towards LIFE SUPPORT screaming and flailing their arms behind them like they’d just seen a ghost! Watching them scurry to the shadows like rats behind a convenience store dumpster, you feel a welcome, albeit worn-out presence rouse within your body!

Rrrmgh… nrff… Whuh? Whad’ I… whad’ I miss?

“Stan’s reputation finally preceded her!” Ly shrugs as you climb over the shields, “Just sent a whole security detail runnin’ for da’ hills! I’m so PROUD!

Yea, you smirk as you and Lil’ Stanley exchange a high-five, it’s about damn time, too!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5374390
Following in the security guard’s cowardly footsteps, you scale the remaining steps and enter LIFE SUPPORT in all its steamy, muggy splendor. Snaking through the maze of colossal machines, you’re just in time to hear a faint whimper just around the corner before it’s cut short by a gut-wrenching ‘SSHCK!

You peek around the bend just in time to watch the bodies of the employees of the month topple to the metal floor in perfect sync–their helmeted heads idly rolling through the communal pool of blood forming beneath them.

“Y’know, those articles in BUSINESS WEEKLY were right–you just can’t find good help these days!”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_bIiXPPEm4A
Following the familiar androgynous voice upwards, you find SONNY sitting on a catwalk railing idly stretching her claw. Upon noticing you staring, she gives you her trademark Cheshire grin.
“And surprise, surprise: you managed to escape! See, I knew I should have done something about those hamstrings of yours… rookie move…”

No, you snarl as you point an accusing finger in her direction, she’s the one making the rookie moves!

“Yep, just said that.”

Yea, well… i-it’s over, Sonny! You’re DONE! Roll credits! No post-credit scenes allowed!

“Very astute, Stan!” She snickers as one of her impeccably-shined loafers falls off revealing a long, shining blade in place of her missing leg, “Finished the preparations up minutes ago, actually! Punctuality never was your strong suit, was it?”

Blinking in confusion, you watch as she points her finger towards the diced terminals sitting behind her. “Now I’ve never really been an exact numbers person, but in a few minutes this bunker’s gonna heat up like a slow-cooker… which means we have just enough time for a little fun… so,” she purrs, raising a blonde eyebrow your way with unwelcome interest, “what’ll it be? Truth or Dare? Pillow Fight? Ooh, Investment Tips and Racy Massages?”

Firing your N4 RIFLE from the hip, you watch in disbelief as Sunny leans away from the bullets about as easily as one would dodge a beach ball drifting their way!

That’s a fun one too… okay, Stan!” Twirling the MAGIC REMOTE in her claw, your boss makes a show of stuffing it into her breast pocket as a sinister chuckle escapes her throat! “Wouldn’t want to finish too early, would we?”

Rising from her seat, the boss stands atop the railing with both arms spread outwards as if to give you a hug!

“Go on then–I’ll even let you take the first shot!”

“Careful, kiddo…” Ly warns as Sunny shoots you a toothy grin, “Dis’ one’s tricky…”

ROLL ME 1d100 TO STRIKE FIRST AND STRIKE FAST! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>5374393
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>5374393
I am a great and powerful magician

>5374429
You will roll a 53!
>>
>>5374426
Sonny wins
Tim wins
Boris wins
>>
Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>5374430
my roll says otherwise
>>
>>5374442
C L U T CH
>>
>>5374406
>>5374426
>>5374442
>HIGHEST ROLL: 62 (PLUS A FEW SECRET BONEUSES: +3 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 BONE SPEED, -10 BOSS SPEED-WAIT, BOSS SPEED?! = 65!)

Writing!
>>5374442
Damn right it does! Well done!
>>
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As you aim your rifle at the boss, you feel an uncanny sense of danger brewing in the back of your cleaning product-addled mind–yes… yes! It’s your FEMININE INTUITION! And it’s telling you to…

Dodge?

You do, of course–what kind of girl would you be if you didn’t listen to your intuition? Diving to the side, your caution immediately bears fruit when one of the boss’ bladed claws appears in the space your head was just occupying! Did… did you guys see that!?

“Nah, t-too quick!” Ly sputters as you regain your footing!
Really quick…

“Tsk tsk, Stanley…” Purrs Sunny as her claw instantaneously returns to its normal length, “would it kill you to read the room?? Everyone knows you always let your boss go first…”

A fiendish glint forms in her eye as she blinks out of existence and appears right in front of you! Sending a bladed kick towards your stomach, you barely manage to catch it with your BONE CLAW before it can spill your guts open!

“Let’s savor this, shall we?”

Pushing off of your claw before you can retaliate, Sunny laughs softly to herself as she gracefully backflips a few feet away from you and lands on the metal catwalk with a faint ‘click’!
https://soundcloud.com/kakyoin-dies-566727774/ff7-remake-ost-rufus-shinra
It’s your turn now, probably! What do!? REMEMBER: YOU’VE GOT NO ITEMS! : C
>KEEP HER FAR AWAY–PEPPER HER WITH BULLETS!
>GET AGGRESSIVE–RUSH IN CLOSE AND BONE CLAW PAST HER DEFENSES!
>CHUCK LIL’ STANLEY AT HER AND CATCH SUNNY IN A PINCER ATTACK!
>DISTRACT HER WITH YOUR DOPPELGANGER, THEN STRIKE!
>BAIT AN ATTACK, THEN COUNTER!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5374481
>>DISTRACT HER WITH YOUR DOPPELGANGER, THEN STRIKE!
>>
>>5374481
>WRITE-IN!
JUMP PAST HER AND JAM AN ELECTRIC BONE CLAW IN THE CONTROL PANEL!

Objective control! And you know, doing something unexpected!
>>
>>5374481
>>5374532
>JUMP PAST HER AND JAM AN ELECTRIC BONE CLAW IN THE CONTROL PANEL!

Changing vote!
Support!
>>
>>5374532
>>5374535
>AGGRESSIVE MAINTENANCE!
Using the ole' noodle--I like that! Here goes something...

ROLL ME 3d100+3(+3 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 ELECTRICITY BONEUS, -10 BOSS SPEED) TO GIVE IT SOME JUICE... WHILE BEING ATTACKED BY A RABID CEO! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Probably won't write the next update until TUESDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST either--first day back at work was pretty crazy and I'd rather not force or rush through any updates! Will catch you then, hopefully--roll big!
>>
Rolled 14, 99, 63 + 3 = 179 (3d100 + 3)

>>5374613
>>
Rolled 23, 24, 71 = 118 (3d100)

>>5374613
>>
Rolled 62, 44, 53 = 159 (3d100)

>>5374613
>>
>>5374614
>>5374620
>>5374622
>HIGHEST ROLLS: 70, 107, 79 (Since I forgot a fucking BONE SPEED +5 BONEUS)
Writing!
>>
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A fresh idea forms in your head as you rush towards the sliced-up life support consoles behind your boss–gotta buy more time! Grinning at your approach, Sunny quietly reaches into her coat and whips out a GOLD-PLATED MACHINE PISTOL– one with the biggest magazine you’ve ever seen! Aiming the gaudy weapon in your direction, you barely have time to armor up before she sends a storm of bullets heading your way!

As they plink off the sides of your armor, you nearly fail to notice the piano wire-thin blade extended in front of you–so much so that as you slide underneath, you feel a thumb-sized chunk of your chiton get lobbed off! Rising to your feet and leaping up towards the consoles, your boss meets you mid-jump and lunges at you with bullets, claws, and blade foot!

“You wouldn’t be trying to ignore me, would you?” She jokes as the two of you twirl through the air like two birds fighting! “After all I’ve done for you?”

Though you manage to keep her and her razor-sharp claws at bay, you quickly find yourself losing ground–her speed… it’s something else! Delivering a spin-kick to your abdomen, Sunny inadvertently knocks you over to your destination before embedding a long claw into the catwalk next to you!

“You might be getting the hang of those powers you stole, Stan, but me? I’ve had ‘em for YEARS!

Launching herself towards you by yanking forward on her claw, Sonny’s blade leg extends towards your chest as she continues to fire her machine pistol into your armor! Hastily charging your BONE CLAWS up with electricity, you jam both into the nearest terminal and are instantly rewarded with an impromptu light show as the whole bank lights up with activity!

Sonny shoots you an intrigued glance as electricity arcs out from the machines and into her chest launching her halfway across the plant! Smashing into a massive pipe with a resounding ‘TONG!’, the boss deftly corrects her fall and lands like a cat on the catwalk below!

“Now that’s some out-of-the-box thinking, Stanley!” She snickers as the machines around you slowly come back to life, “Now just keep doing that for an hour or so and this place’ll be back on its feet in no time!”

Brushing some of the shock-induced soot off of her white suit, Sunny takes a seat on a nearby rail before loudly snapping her fingers! At her call, a pair of EXOSKELETONS drop from openings in the mess of pipes above–each one sporting a LIGHT MACHINE GUN!

“Business Rule #1: Don’t wear yourself out doing what your employees can handle on their own!” Punctuating her sentence with a cheeky grin, Sunny points a finger your way, prompting the two to open fire!

ROLL ME 1d100+8(+3 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 BONE SPEED, -5 LOTS OF BULLETS) TO NOT GET SHOT! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 7 + 8 (1d100 + 8)

>>5375276
>>
Rolled 57 + 8 (1d100 + 8)

>>5375276
>>
>>5375276
This is just Tuesday at this point. You’d think these evil-doers would catch on eventually, but no.
>>
Rolled 84 + 8 (1d100 + 8)

>>5375294
Forgot my dice again.
>>
>>5375288
>>5375290
>>5375298
>HIGHEST ROLL: 92!
Writing!
>>
>>5375305
Yeah…

Get to writin’, boy… I like that.
>>
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Yea, no THANKS! Cartwheeling out of harm’s way, you ride that ELECTRICAL HIGH you’ve still got coursing through your claws and transfer the rest of the charge to your N4 RIFLE–the BULLETS, to be precise!

And be precise you DO! Slinging electric death at your opponents, you race around the catwalks like an old FPS character as Sonny continues snapping to summon reinforcements for each skeleton you reduce to a twitching mess on the floor!

“Sure, they’re a bit dumber than I’d like,” She sighs as she interrupts your gun kata by dumping another XXL magazine of machine pistol your way, “but you wouldn’t BELIEVE how much we save on healthcare costs! Automation’s the way to go–no doubt about it!”

Automate THIS, you snarl as you dive away from her bullets and send a few of your own at her smug grin! Nonchalantly hopping off the railing and sauntering out of your line of fire, a confused expression creeps onto her pale face when the next replacement skeleton falls out of the pipes missing a leg… and another missing his entire upper body!

Using the confusion to rip apart Sonny’s remaining cronies with your rifle, both you and your opponent freeze as the acrid smell of cigar smoke mixes with the muggy air around you!

Man, you remark with a smile spreading across your face, you never thought you’d be glad to see THIS guy! Crashing to the ground like a meteor wrapped in a blue long coat, an all-too-familiar pissed-off old man casually snaps the skeleton he’s holding over his knee before snarling at his bemused boss!

“You pissed off the wrong veteran, you traitorous sonnovaBITCH!
https://youtu.be/tY_kfFnyoic

Unloading his HOLT 1912 PISTOL in Sonny’s direction, Blumenkrantz turns his massive head your way as your boss deftly leaps to safety!

“Your little cheerleaders are helping Christy and my men mop up this FREAK’S mess, Parble–don’t even think of disappointing me now or I’ll kill ya myself!

Oh, you won’t, you grin as Sonny appears next to you with a menacing smile! Er, actually…

Swiping and kicking at you like a coked-out emu, your boss draws you away from Blumenkrantz’ line of fire and towards a wall of pipes!

Ducking and weaving through her flurry of blows, you decide to turn the tables by:
>COUNTER AND STRIKE!
>FLIP OFF OF THE WALL AND ATTACK HER FROM BEHIND!
>ACTIVATE YOUR DOPPELGANGER AND GET HER WHILE SHE’S DISTRACTED!
>BRING HER BACK TOWARDS BLUMENKRANTZ! HE’LL KNOW HOW TO FIX HER WAGON!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5375343
>WRITE-IN!
Pull a feint! Retreat towards the mess of pipes and then strike out in melee. She might be tough, but she’s arrogant. We can use that to our advantage and draw her in. It’ll probably only work once, twice if we’re really clever, but we might only need it to work once. When we get her on the back foot, we can get her caught between us and Blumenkrantz! But we have to make sure to keep him alive. He might be our only means of piloting that chopper.

I have the dumbest grin on my face right now
>>
>>5375343
>>5375346
FREAKIN GENIUS-- SUPPORT!
>>
>>5375346
>>5375348
>FEINT AND FIGHT!
Here goes something! ROLL ME 1d100+8(+3 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 COUNTERING, +5 CARVING KNOWLEDGE (TOTALLY FORGOT YOU READ THAT BOOK AGES AGO! SORRY!), -10 BOSS SPEED) TO BAIT AND SWITCH! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
>>5375387
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
>>
Rolled 43 + 8 (1d100 + 8)

>>5375391
>>5375387

Forgot roll
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>5375387
>>
Rolled 91 + 8 (1d100 + 8)

>>5375387
I made a huge mistake
>>
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>>5375393
>>5375395
>>5375438
>HIGHEST ROLL: 99!
Writing! Also found this on Twitter and immediately thought of Stan and Talbot... or Stan and Lil' Stanley.
>>
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By reeling her in, of course! Emboldened by Blumenkrantz’ dramatic entrance, you gradually make your way back towards the pipes as your movements become slower and slower… and Sonny’s attacks become even FASTER! If you can just draw her in a little closer…

“Don’t tap out yet, Stanley~” She coos as she blindfires her MACHINE PISTOL in Blumenkrantz’ general direction, “I’m just getting started!”

Sweeping your feet with her leg blade, you take the bait and hop over the telegraphed attack just in time for your boss to stab at your chest! Anyone else wouldn’t have expected it, but you aren’t just ‘anyone else!’ Deftly swatting her claw to the side, you barely see a change in Sonny’s eye as you let gravity carry you and your other claw downwards! Though she darts to the side, it’s too late–tearing through fabric and flesh, your boldness is rewarded with a spurt of hot blood to the face as your blow opens up a sizable wound on your boss’ upper arm!

Swatting you away with a spin kick, Sunny uses her superior speed to retreat onto a nearby pipe above you!

“Now you’ve done it–do you know how much one of these suits COSTS?” She snickers as she darts away from Blumenkrantz’ bullets, “That’s coming outta’ BOTH of your paychecks!”

Put it towards your funeral, you snarl as you leap up and position Sonny between you and Blumenkrantz! Sampling the fresh blood oozing from her arm with a contented sigh, your boss keeps you at bay with a sweep of her blade leg!

“MmMm, umami! So tell me, you two, since we never get a chance to chat…” she purrs, disappearing and reappearing behind you, “How does it feel, hm?” Ducking under a swipe of her claw, you elbow her open wound and twirl around with your BONE CLAWS, but it’s too late–she’s already sitting on another pipe across the chamber.

“Blumie–how’d you not notice after all these years? All of that anger… all of that paranoia... and for what? To get everyone killed anyway! That’s not gonna look good on your performance review, mister!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5375513
“Can’t write me up with a BULLET in your skull, FREAK!” Retorts Blumenkrantz as he empties his magazine at the smiling CEO. Dancing from pipe to pipe like a flamenco dancer, Sonny forces him into cover by unloading her machine pistol at him!

“So volatile… And something’s been bugging me, Stanley–I’m thinking I’ll have you stuffed, of course, but are you more partial to the Living Room, Parlor, or the Foyer?

Launching towards you at breakneck speed, you barely manage to dodge to the side as Sonny lands blade leg-first into the pipe next to you! “Yep, still regretting those hamstrings… anyways, thoughts? Be honest, now!”

“Cripes, she barely felt it…” Ly shudders! “Dis’ broad…”

He’s not totally wrong–despite her strong front, you definitely nicked Sonny there–the question is, what’s next? You’ve got her between you and Blumenkrantz!

>BAIT HER INTO BLUMENKRANTZ’ SIGHTS–LET HIM BLAST HER FROM BEHIND!
>SIGNAL BLUMENRANTZ TO FIRE, THEN INTERCEPT WHEN SONNY DODGES!
>HAVE BLUMENKRANTZ BAIT HER, THEN FILL HER FULL OF LEAD!
>ATTACK SIMULTANEOUSLY!
>WRITE-IN!

That's it for tonight, by the way--should have more WEDNESDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST! Sorry for the late start and hope to see you again next time!
>>
>>5375517
>ATTACK SIMULTANEOUSLY!
This shit never works on /qst/, but try anyways.
>>
>>5375517
>>ATTACK SIMULTANEOUSLY!
>>
>>5375517
>ATTACK SIMULTANEOUSLY!
>>
>>5375517
>ATTACK SIMULTANEOUSLY!
>>
>>5375517
>Remember that air is an element and BLOW her into Blumenkrantz's sights
>>
>>5375519
>>5375561
>>5375570
>>5375596
>TANDEM ATTACK!

>>5375741
Your ELEMENTAL ETHNOID only utilizes these elements, unfortunately: FIRE, ICE, ELECTRICITY, OR MAGIC! If you choose one of those, though, I'll tack it onto your resulting attack! I'll even give you a BONEUS for good thinking!

ROLL ME 1d100+10(+3 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 TANDEM ATTACK, +5 ELEMENTAL ATTACK, -8 BOSS SPEED) TO ATTACK WITH BLUMENKRANTZ! Don't worry, HE won't miss, so don't even think of disappointing him! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Moreover, would you prefer to both use MELEE or RANGED ATTACKS, or would you like to mix it up?


Should write an update around 4-5PM PST today! Happy rolling!
>>
Rolled 90 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5375816
>>
Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>5375816
Melee for us, Ranged for Blumenkrantz

Add Ice to slow her down.
>>
>>5375816
>>5375866
+1 now someone else do the last roll
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>5375816
>>
Try to ice the ground around her, that much speed on ice feels like a delightful workplace accident waiting to happen.
>>
>>5375866
>>5376030
>Add Ice to slow her down.
These. Rob her of her best advantage.
>>
>>5375861
>>5375866
>>5375917
>HIGHEST ROLL: 100 (NON-NAT, BUT STILL NEAT! GIVE YOURSELVES A PAT ON THE BACK--I AIN'T UPDATING UNTIL EVERYONE DOES IT!)
>MELEE STAN, RANGED BLUMENKRANTZ
>ICE, PLZ
One Boss on the Rocks, comin' up! Writing!
>>
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Stealing a glance at Blumenkrantz that says ‘GET READY’, you quickly go on the offensive and press into Sonny’s defenses with a brutal flurry of claw swipes! Laughing softly to herself as she dodges and parries your attacks with no sign of stopping any time soon, your boss sends you reeling when she deftly knocks one of your wider attacks off to the side and sends you spinning like a top!

Perfect.

Leaning into the turn, you apply some ICE to your claws as you come around again to find yourself about to be impaled by Sonny’s claw! Thwarting her attack with an elbow to her wound, you immediately follow-up by stabbing your ICE CLAWS into her stomach!

That was the plan, at least. Learning her mistake from before, she manages to lean just far enough to the side to take the blow to her thigh instead, but that doesn’t stop you, no sir! Using your claw as an anchor, you deliver a bone-crunching SPIN KICK to her frosty center of mass and send her tumbling over the side of the catwalk and into Blumenkrantz’ shades-wearing sights!

He doesn’t even need a witty one-liner. Already set with a fresh magazine in his sidearm, the Chief of Security does, like, the exact opposite of his job and lights his boss up with ice-cold efficiency that nearly rivals the stuff on your claws! Spraying Sonny’s ice-flecked blood into the air with each shot, Blumenkrantz keeps firing until the magazine’s spent before finishing it off by snatching the tumbling CEO out of the air in his massive gloved hand!

“Got any MORE quips in ya’, FRE-

A sharp ‘SSSHK!’ rings out throughout the chamber as Sunny breaks free with a slash of her claw! Though the grizzled veteran manages to avoid being sliced into ribbons, the damage is done–having let her go to avoid the attack, Blumenkrantz growls in frustration as the blood-soaked boss backflips through the air and lands in the center of the room–her once spotless white business ensemble now slathered in blood and riddled with holes!

Removing her suit jacket with a sigh more suited for someone who just stepped in a puddle, Sonny slings the sullied garment over her shoulder revealing a tight black dress shirt and her orange tie fit snugly over a boyish frame!

Leaping down next to Blumenkrantz, the two of you point your weapons at her like something out of a buddy cop movie! Had enough yet, bitch!?

“Hmmm…” Purrs Sonny as her blood forms a small pond beneath her smudged loafers, “No… no, I don’t think I have.”

Spinning in place like a gore-soaked Mikhail Jenson, your boss lets out a low, sinister laugh as a storm of blood droplets rushes towards you…

Before sprouting razor-sharp spikes!

“Hit the deck, Parble!” Blumenkrantz roars!

ROLL ME 3d100+5(+5 BONE SPEED, +3 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, -3 BOSS SPEED, -5 BLOODY BARRAGE!) TO DODGE THE BLOOD SPIKES! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 6, 73, 13 = 92 (3d100)

>>5376376
>>
Rolled 93, 87, 25 = 205 (3d100)

>>5376376
>>
Rolled 14, 7, 11 = 32 (3d100)

>>5376376
>>
>>5376420
Wow.
>>
>>5376422
At least this wasn't a roll for Art.
>>
>>5376385
>>5376400
>>5376420
>HIGHEST ROLLS: 98! 92! 30!
So close to perfection! Writing!
>>
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Sonny’s mad cackle reverberates across the chamber as both you and Blumenkrantz dive to avoid the sudden deluge of bloody darts!

“No tap-outs in business, Stan! Someone’s gotta live and someone’s gotta die–I don’t make the rules!”

Barely avoiding becoming a pincushion, you feel some of the barbs rake your coveralls as your boss continues to spin like a malfunctioning blender! It stings a bit, sure, but it’s way better than the alternative! Sweeping his arms clean of the darts that managed to hit him, Blumenkrantz retreats towards a cluster of pipes leaving a trail of fresh blood behind him as he blind-fires at the manic manager!

Still keeping her jacket over her shoulder and swaying through his spray-and-pray like seaweed in a current, Sonny uses her momentum to leap into the air and land in a fresh puddle before sliding your way through the blood with breakneck speed!

Flicking more darts your way as she approaches, you manage to avoid being skewered… at least until you notice the blood pooling around your feet!

“Watch out, kid!” Ly warns as a mess of bubbles froth atop the puddle! “Somethin’s-”

You barely manage to cartwheel out of the way as massive spears of solid blood jut forth from the pool! Landing slightly off-balance, you’re taken completely off-guard when Sonny rushes into you and spears her claw into your stomach!

“Barely any muscle tone! Some sit ups wouldn’t kill ya’, you know!” Giggles Sunny as she twists her knife-like nails around your innards!

Gyms… are… EXPENSIVE!

Roaring the last word, you rake your claws across your boss’ smug face as she tries to pull away, adding a few fresh gashes along her cheek and forehead! Dislodging yourself from her claw in the chaos, you duck under another swipe of her claw as it sweeps across the room and retreat a bit before clasping your hand over the puncture in your stomach!

“D’awww, too bad there isn’t any BONE MARROW around, huh?” She snickers as she leisurely skates and weaves through Blumenkrantz’ fire! “Gee, do janitors get healthcare at Good Boy? Maybe I’ll check once I’m done eviscerating you both like pinatas!”

She talks a big game, but she’s weakening–you’re SURE of it! Still flecked with a few chunks of ice around her wounds, Sunny shoots you a coquettish wink as she shoots uncoquettish BLOOD SPEARS at you and Blumenkrantz! A spike of pain shoots through your torso as you dive for cover, but it’s nothing compared to what you would have felt if you hadn’t moved!

With both you and Blumenkrantz pinned down behind cover, you know it’s up to you to make a move… but what’s the play here?
>STICK TO COVER–ATTACK FROM AFAR!
>SHE’S SLOWING DOWN–GET AGGRESSIVE AND SMACK HER UP CLOSE!
>TIME FOR THE DOPPELGANGER! DISTRACT HER AND SWOOP IN WHILE SHE’S OCCUPIED!
>YOU’VE GOT BLUMENKRANTZ HERE–GIVE ANOTHER TANDEM ATTACK A TRY!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5376450
>TIME FOR THE DOPPELGANGER! DISTRACT HER AND SWOOP IN WHILE SHE’S OCCUPIED!
>>
>>5376450
>SHE’S SLOWING DOWN–GET AGGRESSIVE AND SMACK HER UP CLOSE!

Continue the attack.
>>
>>5376450
>>SHE’S SLOWING DOWN–GET AGGRESSIVE AND SMACK HER UP CLOSE!
>>
>>5376453
>DOPPLER EFFECT!

>>5376462
>>5376471
>ROUGH 'ER UP!

Almost there! ROLL ME 1d100+6(+3 BUNNY SUIT, +5 DEMON STRENGTH, +5 CARVING, -1 BOSS SPEED, -5 OW MY GUTS) TO CUT 'ER UP! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Feel free to add in an ELEMENT TOO if ya' like!
>>
>>5376450
>SHE’S SLOWING DOWN–GET AGGRESSIVE AND SMACK HER UP CLOSE!

Get in and get mean. If she's resorting to using her own blood as a weapon she's running out of options.

And if we get half a chance to seperate her from our off button, take it. Did she tuck it into the coat slung over her shoulder?
>>
>>5376503
She did, yes! You can certainly factor that in!
>>
Rolled 5 + 8 (1d100 + 8)

>>5376501
Continue battering her with ice. Slow her down. Freeze her blood. Leave her weak and wretched.
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>5376501
Let's add some fire and do a I'M TRYING TO CUT OFF YOUR HEAD BUT ACTUALLY I'M JUST GONNA CUT YOUR COAT AND HOPEFULLY YOU WON'T REALIZE WHY.

Last thing we need is to get paralyzed at right before we win.
>>
Rolled 56 + 6 (1d100 + 6)

>>5376501
>>5376515

Support!
>>
I wonder if we could use our knowledge of honeybuns to deliver a distracting taunt as well. It seemed to touch a nerve that we knew, maybe implying Blumencratz knows would also distract for a moment?

Reaching a bit here, I know
>>
>>5376530
Yeah, Boris is a dick. Let's!
>>
>>5376511
>>5376515
>>5376517
>HIGHEST ROLL: 74!
Gonna go with FIRE since it got more support and if I allow swapping elements mid-attack I fear things might get MESSY! And yes, I'll put in your little quip about honeybuns' ALLEGED' identity too! WRITING!

It's actually Art
>>
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Though pain scrambles your mind like a blender of eggs, a thought manages to complete the dangerous trek through the abyssal expanse of your head–one that bears fruit that just might save your life!

As you set your claws alight with fresh flames, you peek out from cover and nearly bump heads with Sonny as she smiles at you through a veil of dripping blood!

“Still kickin’?”

Blood spikes explode from her wounds like a business-suited iron maiden, prompting you to leap backwards as you fight through a fresh wave of pain in your stomach! Rushing after you through a hail of Blumenkrantz’ bullets, Sunny traps you in a flurry of kicks, swipes, and stabs as you struggle to stay ahead of her!

“Good… Cuz’ so am I… and I’m not clocking out yet! OVERTIME, BABY!

Is that what she and BORIS called their little ronnie voos? You creeps are made for each other!

H-how-”

It’s a shot in the dark, you’ll admit, but it hits. Blinking in genuine surprise, a well-placed bullet in her monstrous shoulder by Blumenkrantz gives you the opening you need! Darting to her blood-covered side, you make a show of slicing at Sonny’s head prompting her to duck beneath you!

For the first time in what must be minutes, you feel a smile creep across your face as you carve the top-half of Sonny’s jacket off, sending a familiar MAGIC REMOTE spinning into the air!

“Oh you sneaky little…” Recovering with a hollow laugh, your boss uses your head as a stepladder and leaps to snatch the device! As her claw extends above you, a fuzzy blur beats her to the punch… and lands just far enough to avoid a hail of gunfire from the pipes above!

SHRED ‘EM, BOYS!

You’d recognize that Southern drawl anywhere! Hooting and hollering as they pop out of the pipe like spectators at a rodeo come Teddy and the rest of his squad along with Cal the Rookie, the Armory Guard, and even Paolo the Quartermaster!

“How… how do you know it’s dem’?”

You just KNOW, Ly, gosh!

MAKE WAY, ASSHOLES!

Not to be outshined, Eddie and Talbot bring up the rear–the former being caught by the security goons like a crowdsurfer, the latter face planting next to a very smug-looking Lil’ Stanley! Upon further inspection, you spot the remote control, Sunny’s ace in the hole, hanging from her fangs!

Just when you think things couldn’t be better, one last spectator lands gracefully in the security guard’s makeshift safety net–a petite bespectacled girl with her red hair kept in a tight ponytail and a tablet in one hand and a handgun in the other! Surveying the damages while kneeling in a puddle of her own blood, a long, hollow laugh escapes Sunny’s bloody mouth.

“Everyone’s here, huh? Reminds me of a CHRISTMAS PART-

Christy cuts her boss off by sending a bullet through her garish tie!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5376559
To her credit, Sonny makes an attempt at dodging the shot. Flopping onto the bloody floor like a blonde-haired fish, your boss fills the chamber with a resounding sadistic cackle–one that only gets louder the more she looks at you all!

“So they were working behind the scenes all along, huh?” Eddie remarks over Sonny’s manic laughter!

“Never liked ‘em anyway.” Talbot shrugs, prompting a few nods of assent from the security retinue.

Neither Christy or Blumenkrantz say anything–sharing a knowing glance that you can’t quite decipher, you can tell whatever words they want to say will have to wait until your boss is out of commission… permanently.

Only one of you gets the satisfaction of ending this:
>HOLD UP–YOU WANNA INTERROGATE THE BOSS!
>TEDDY AND THE BOYS–THEY’VE EARNED IT!
>BLUMENKRANTZ–LETTING OUT SOME OF THAT RAGE WILL BE GOOD FOR HIS HEART!
>CHRISTY–IF ANYONE’S SUFFERED FROM THIS CRAP, IT’S HER!
>EDDIE–HE BROUGHT THAT REVOLVER AND EVERYTHING!
>TALBOT–HE’S A PISSED-OFF JANITOR TOO!
>LIL’ STANLEY–SHE WAS SORT OF A TEST SUBJECT? AND IT MIGHT TAKE CARE OF THAT EXCESS ENERGY OF HERS?
>YOU. YOU, YOU, YOU, YOU!
>EVERYONE! WHY SHOULD ONE PERSON HAVE ALL THE FUN?
>WRITE-IN!

That's all for tonight, folks--might be a little late tomorrow, so expect the next update THURSDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST! Got a little more here, so hopefully we can put a cap on this before we get bumped off the catalogue! Thanks for being patient AND for the sick write-ins--you guys make this a blast to run!
>>
>>5376561
>>CHRISTY–IF ANYONE’S SUFFERED FROM THIS CRAP, IT’S HER!
>>
>HOLD UP–YOU WANNA INTERROGATE THE BOSS!
>CHRISTIE!

WHAT'S THE PERSON WHO BEAT TIM'S SIG!?
>>
>>5376561
>CHRISTY–IF ANYONE’S SUFFERED FROM THIS CRAP, IT’S HER!

>>5376587
>WHAT'S THE PERSON WHO BEAT TIM'S SIG!?
What
>>
>>5376561
>CHRISTY–IF ANYONE’S SUFFERED FROM THIS CRAP, IT’S HER!
>>
> Sonny snips off a lock of your hair and idly stuffs it into her breast pocket. “You tend to pick up a thing or two when your father runs a cult–sometimes a replacement limb, sometimes a boost in speed… not to mention knowing who originally defeated the lich… as well as having his sig-”

I want this "sig-"
>>
>>5376563
>>5376673
>>5376675
>CHRISTY!

>>5376587
>BUT INTERROGATE FIRST!
Looks like Christy gets to personally assist her boss... to HELL! But don't worry--maybe that 'sig-' will show up somewhere! Writing!
>>
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Having had more than your fill of your boss’ blood for one lifetime, you glare one last time at Sunny before limping over to Talbot, Eddie, and Lil’ Stanley. Where’s Keek?

“Wrong turn. She’ll be here.” Eddie whispers as Lil’ Stanley dutifully deposits the MAGIC REMOTE into your outstretched hand.

“Glad you’re not dead an’ all, but uh… what’s the plan here, huh?” Asks Talbot as he glances between you and a still-cackling Sonny. Rather than answer his question, you instead turn towards Christy’s slightly trembling form. Hey Chris, you begin, guess whose boytoy was behind that CHRISTMAS PARTY crap?

She doesn’t even need to process your words. Snatching a sidearm from one of the security goons, Christy storms over to her felled boss with a grim look on her stony face.

How do you-HACK-think I feel, huh?” Sunny coughs in between pained giggles. “I mean come on–’FOUR-EYES’ here? Hoo b-

Sunny’s rant is cut short when Christy stomps her dress shoe onto her throat! As the boss’ remaining eye bulges from the force of the blow, the personal assistant deftly blows away the blood spike ambush Sonny prepared with her handgun! Leaning close to the defeated CEO’s ear, a ragged, fragile voice barely manages to make it out of Christy’s lips…

But it does.

Having… trouble…. SPEAKING?

One more hollow laugh escapes Sonny’s mouth before it, along with the rest of her face and head, is reduced to a fine vapor by Christy’s point-blank mag dump into her skull. Her face locked in a silent scream, the personal assistant keeps pulling the trigger even after the magazine is emptied, and as she drops the handgun to the floor, Christy barely falls to her knees for a second before Blumenkrantz bounds over and scoops her into his embrace.

“It’s okay, honey…” He growls in a warm, almost reassuring tone you’ve never heard him use, “... It’s okay…”

Crying silently as Sonny’s blood continues to spread across the floor, Christy glances between both you and Blumenkrantz through tear-streaked glasses before mouthing two shaky words in your direction:
Thank you.

Unsure of how to respond, your salvation comes in the form of a crashing door from behind you followed by a series of frantic steps up the stairs! Balancing a trash bag marked with the words ‘Stan’s Gear’ in permanent marker on her shoulder, Kiki bursts into the touching moment with her LIGHT MACHINE GUN drawn and ready for action! Upon seeing the eliminated threat and the sobbing girl, however, the film student visibly deflates with a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment.

As you and everyone watch in stunned silence, Eddie quietly leans over to your ear.

“Toldja.”
END OF PART 18
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: DEAD MAN’S PARTY
>>
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And that, my friends, is the end. Not of the quest, obviously, but you get the picture! Not my favorite place to leave things off, but we ARE almost on page 10, so…

Anyways, I can say with absolute certainty that we’re nearly done–the next thread might just be the last followed by an epilogue or something! It’s been a wild year and a half, all, and I’m humbled and honored to have made it this far in this low-brow journey with you guys: players, veteran boneheads, drawfags, and even those lovable lurkers! Again, from the bottom of my cold, decaying heart:

https://youtu.be/msMkeJTEGuU

NEXT THREAD MIGHT HAPPEN THIS WEEKEND, but it’s gonna be pretty busy for me so keep an eye on my Twitter for updates!

As the (probably) last thread draws near, I’d like to draw your attention to a few links along with inviting you to ask any questions or make any comments you might have about the setting, characters, or any other stuff you have major grievances with!

Thread just got archived–you can read it here if you wanna open another tab! It’s okay, I get it!
>https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5340923/

Check out those sweet other threads here in the archive! Thanks again to those who voted so much–yowza!
>https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Bones%20Quest

Follow me on Twitter if you haven’t already! Artwork is here too!
>https://twitter.com/DemBonez3

Imgur’s REALLY lagged behind thanks to weird formatting changes and stuff, so most art is on my Twitter at the moment–go check it out!
>https://imgur.com/a/dvF3SCN

And now the moment you might have been waiting for: the PLAYER QUESTION KORNER!
>Q1: If Lil’ Stanley could talk, what do you think she’d say about the rest of the gang?
>Q2: If you were gonna go on a camping trip, which 3 characters would you bring and why?
>Q3: The end’s approaching! How do you think this whole wild ride will end?
>Q4: On a scale of 1 to 5, 1 being worst ever and 5 being AMAZING, how do you think Stan and Talbot’s first date will go? Assuming they both LIVE, that is!
>Q5: Addendum to the above: How will Art and SYB’S first date go?
>Q6: We’ve got quite a few extradimensional horrors in Bones Quest, but which one would you want to see more of? DEEP MOTHER? LUDWIG? THE FAE? Why?
>Q7: Out of the whole crew, who would win in a hotdog eating contest? Why?
>Q8: Who’s your FAVORITE side character? Why?

Feel free to ask anything else that comes to your mind and again: thank you for playing!
>>
>>5377316

FUCK! Never thought I'd be glad to see a character go like freaking Sonny!
Epic thread once again. Can't believe we're almost through.... now to answer some of the questions:

>Q3:
Art dies again. Stan ascends and becomes the new TIM. Clearwater is in a state of terrible, AWFUL tyranny.
Talbot will spend the rest of his life trying to redo and undo the events of the past to prevent the terrible future in which Stan-- or what was once left of her-- rules over Clearwater.

This will either occur via him selling himself to the fae or from some time machine invented by Denise.
He will either bring back Stan, or die trying.

>Q6:
The fae-- so Stan can slap Shannon! With a bullet.
>Q7:
It'd be a tossup between Talbot and Kiki. Talbot would only win cause he's huge.

Alright, here are my question(s):
>Do sewer mutants actually exist in Clearwater? (Or are they just a figment of Stan's overactive imagination?) Would we have encountered them if we rolled differently/chose differently?
>Why the did Talbot agree to become an experiment for GBDB? (I assume monies. Totally forget if that was already went-over)
>Will we encounter the fae again?
>>
>>5377316
>Q3: The end’s approaching! How do you think this whole wild ride will end?

Somehow we will drop the entire floating fortress square on Boris's oversized head. He'll still managed to erupt out of the rubble for a final showdown.

> Q4
A concerning amount of monster trucks will be stolen and joyridden.

Q6. Demons! They've actually been really varied and strange, and they might be our only hope for one upping Shannon, if we ever even know we're fighting her.

Q7: Lil Stanley in sheer defiance of physics.

Q?: I really hope we get a chance to distal decoy shannon in the side.
>>
>>5377405
>SEWER MUTANTS:
What do you think pulled Stan under? And yes, you probably would have.... though they'd be a little different than what you expected!

>TALBOT:
The main draw was cash--there've been bits and pieces in conversation, but his mom is sick and currently living in a skilled nursing facility out of town. Most, if not all of his income goes towards keeping her in their care, so in return he takes care of their home in Clearwater for when she hopefully comes back.

Good Boy never sent him the cash for the 'tuneup' experiment he received.


>FAE
The Fae are a secretive entity, especially around those who know their weaknesses--they prey on the weak and young and know how to cover their tracks when they're discovered, but whether their encounters with humans end well or otherwise, they ALWAYS leave a back door near someone they communed with. And that person's loved ones don't have the privilege of eternal existence like The Fae have.

Stanley can't begin to fathom the extinction-level shitstorm she's brought upon her lineage by forcefully breaking the deal. Whether that will be visited in this quest or not remains to be seen...


Thanks for answering those questions and asking even more! Always love talking shop!
>>
>>5377316
>Q1:
Probably snarl and demand food and Mitzi’s whereabouts, since she always has pickle chips on her.

>Q2:
None of them, they’re all completely insane. Maybe Ly, but that would mean Stan would have to come, and that’s just not on the table.

>Q3:
With the Fae fucking us over at the very end.

>Q4:
I imagine it will result in them being banned from the boardwalk or something to that end. So, yeah, probably a five. Four at worst if they get some bad food while out.

Q5:
As long as Syb can come to terms with Art being a complete weeb about Alchemical Beauty Rina (which I can’t imagine would give her much trouble), probably pretty good.

>Q6:
The Chimpanzorse. But for real, the demons were pretty cool. Particularly the one that had tried to take over Atlantis.

>Q7:
What this guy said >>5377424

>Q8:
Definitely gramps. He reflects that kind of begrudging action-hero vibe that I fucking love. I thought he was a badass. I’m really glad we didn’t have to put him back down at the drive-in.

I got a question for you. What was the most unexpected decision the players have made on you so far?
>>
>>5377589
Actually, I was wrong on question 2. Mitzi is probably cool enough to go camping with.
>>
>>5377589
I miss Gramps too, buddy. I miss him too. Easily one of my favorite boneheads to write. And as for Q4 I can say with absolute certainty that Stan will insist on Talbot taking them to this shitty beachside burger joint that has, quote, 'the bitchenist fries and really cheap beers'. Neither of them will walk away without parasites.

>UNEXPECTED DECISION:
There have been quite a few, actually--recruiting Art and the film students, not going for the helicopter the morning of the Drive-In, keeping things PG with Talbot the night before, but if I had to pick one decision to reign supreme as the KING of UNEXPECTED, I'd have to go with...

NOT challenging The Fae with a double-or-nothing deal on Stanley's debt. I might have made it too subtle or something, but I figured that having Sybil and Ly both warn multiple times that The Fae really value their rules and suggesting some kind of game would be enough. When folks decided to break the contract, well... I was surprised, to say the least. I was even typing up a few options to pick from like Chess, Ultra Bash Brosephs, and a Fiddle Duel, and while I'm not upset at all by what was chosen (cuz' it gives me a WHOLE lotta' ideas), I'm still pretty flabbergasted by it. Again, probably should have made things a little clearer on my part. That said, had you parleyed with THE COLLECTOR OF SECRETS you might have gotten a hint or two for dealing with The Fae... in fact, skipping out on at least hearing the demon out comes in close second. You guys were NOT into that dude, huh?


>>5377960
Mitzi says she'll definitely help with the s'mores and pitching the tent(s). There'd better be somewhere to take a dip, though, or she'll give you an Indian Burn and call you a Tree Dork.


In other news, the next thread might take longer than I had anticipated--this weekend's kinda packed for me aside from Sunday, and everyone knows that Sunday on /qst/ is deader than Art in the next few posts. I might still post it then, but we'll see!

On a semi-related note, anyone know how commissioning art works? Never really did it and the one person I was talking to flaked like a little dingaling. Might also be in the market for someone to build a website where normies can read Bones Quest without the other posts and maybe include an art section or two as well. Weird example, but the guy who did Fuck Quest had basically the setup I'd be into... minus the smut, of course.

Anyways, GOOD ANSWERS!
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>>5378195

> Spoiler
I just couldn't bring myself to risk Syb. I knew it was an option, but... it was our mess and I didn't want to drag anyone else into it. Syb has dealt with a lot our shit and it didn't feel right dragging her into it.
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>>5378195
>You guys were NOT into that dude, huh?
I thought he was the coolest extra-dimensional enemy there was. Frankly, I really regret not trying to gain some kind of advantage from him, but I was too terrified that there would be some kind of horrible repercussions for the sake of that knowledge. Fiction has taught me to never deal with demons or other entities like that. If I had been around for it, I never would have even talked to Shannon. I guess that same disposition is what drove me to also cut our ties off to the fae completely. Also, no, the idea of running a gamble or challenge against them never occurred to me, but chucking that leaf in front of the fairy was also pretty badass, so whatever.

As far as commissions? Not a damn clue. Hope you figure it out, though. This quest definitely deserves a good archive and artwork. Thanks again for sharing this and sticking with it, Bones!
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One for the road Bones.

We came very close to spitting acid on everything instead of bone claws back in thread one. That feels like it would have been really different. Do you think it would have effected things much? Our claws feel so central at this point, it's hard to imagine a future without.
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>>5377316
Thanks for running!
>Q3
Besides Stanley (hopefully) smashing Tim's skull in, I wonder what will happen if we eat Tim's bones, its extremely tempting yet I am also terrified of doing so.
>Q4
Definitely a 5 for Stanley and Talbot. Unfortunately a 1 for everyone else involved.
>Q6
I'd say the demons probably, the other anons brought up better points than I do but I find them quite interesting.
>Q7
Lil Stanley would win 100%
>Q8
Either Gramps or Blumenkrantz, I guess I'm just a sucker for the old badass trope.
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>>5378239
>ACID
One thing that I find myself smacking myself over is that very decision, actually--there's a bunch of melee weapons in Bones Quest, but the claws are, like you mentioned, pretty darn integral to Stan's 'style', I guess, even moreso than the mop(s), so they kinda outshine them all. In the end, though, I feel like the ACID and the CLAWS would have achieved similar goals: opening locked things, climbing, and combat, albeit much differently. In the end I'm pretty happy how it turned out--writing combat would have been much more tricky if I had Stan using spit... not that it wouldn't have worked, of course!

>>5378240
Blumenkrantz is, and continues to be, one my favorite characters to write--every time he appears I picture a mixture of Gamagoori's entrance in the first Kill la Kill episode and Coach Buzzcut from Beavis and Butt-Head. He's a very different person from the rest of Stan's acquaintances, and as we've gone further through the story I've really learned to appreciate the folks who don't immediately like Stan... feels more real, in a way.
Honestly pretty pleased he didn't get killed--would have hated to pit you guys against BlumenSKEL...
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>>5378246

Feel bad for Doctor Devon ;-;
Shoulda been Boris...
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>>5378251
Yea, I was kinda on the fence about those deaths. Not that they'd happen, naturally, but how they occur. I'm stuck between having them happen out of nowhere and boom, gone, and having a big, drawn-out death scene for maximum pathos.

Honestly I'm never really sure how to depict death--sometimes I feel like someone keeling over like a sack of potatoes just makes more sense. Not to diminish those character's roles, of course, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I hope some of the deaths in this thread didn't feel forced or rushed.

Stan strikes me as the type who'd probably stuff those feelings down anyways, but still--don't want to fuck over any characters in the process. Dr. Devon was a fun dude to write as well.
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>>5378251
>Doctor Devon saved Art’s life
>Brought us Little Stanley
>Gave us the serum that might have already saved Mitzi and Art again
>We never did get the ingredients he asked us to find

Big fucking oof
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>>5378256
>I hope some of the deaths in this thread didn't feel forced or rushed.
Not at all.

The way you described Stripes and Cliff’s deaths hit me like a fucking truck. That was some grade A writing.

Speaking of, I have one more question for you: You wrote that Cliff didn’t even try to dodge the rocket we fired towards him as he was driving his truck at us. Was Cliff not dodging that rocket his last act of kindness, or was it just mindlessness?
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>>5378284

Felt like mindlessness to me. It doesn't seem like Tim really cares what happens to his cronies at this point.
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>>5378284
Seems like only Cliff will ever know the answer to that question...
Thanks for the kind words, man--I was worried I was rushing through and turning it into that scene where everyone's dying in Kung Pow or something!

>>5378282
He also delivered Stan at the hospital, if you recall correctly. Dude's kinda the hero in his own right... if you consider bringing the horror that is Stan unto this world heroic, of course.

>>5378287
Yea, Tim's kind of a dicksucker. As you're all no-doubt very aware of now! Though Sunny was kind of a jerk too. As were some of the lieutenants.
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>>5378297
So... there's no more traitors since we killed Sunny? Right? RIGHT?!
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>>5378298
Yep, you got 'em all!
https://youtu.be/vVRbEvPvF7A
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>>5378301
Well, you had us thinking it was Mitzi for about 3-5 threads. I'll give kudos for keeping the wool pulled over our eyes the whole time.

Anyone else ITT who'd you think the traitor was?
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>>5378309
Yea, you guys are so mean to Mitzi. You owe her some chips or something.
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>>5378309
I had figured for a little bit that it might have been Sunny, but disregarded it as too obvious, and also too difficult to prove. Denise was also a guess of mine, but I couldn’t really find anything linking her to it beyond having the knowledge to probably have pulled it off and maybe a motive given we stole her thunder from her in high school. I basically gave up trying to guess who it could be after the end of the last thread.
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>>5378287
I’d like to imagine it was Cliff exerting his last stretch of willpower against Tim’s control to keep the truck driving towards the rocket rather than dodge it. But who knows. It could as easily have been Tim intentionally driving Cliff into the rocket knowing we would see it happen so he could inflict some Darkest Dungeon style stress damage on us.

I hope that vent urchin who made us that Stan doll survived. That kid was cool.
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>>5378256
>I hope some of the deaths in this thread didn't feel forced or rushed.
They all did, in my opinion. It's been a comedy quest all this time, going into cruel drama just like that feels like a huge whiplash.
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>>5378495
Not even trying to rag on you for your opinion or anything like that, but how come?

I mean, the quest has definitely had heavier undertones for most of the time to contrast the comedic value. Us learning about Mitzi’s family probably being dead; Art’s first death; Gramps telling us his tale about how he died and about how his deputy was just casually deleted from existence by Tim for speaking up was the first solid glimpse at Tim’s actual cruelty we got; The demon that literally consumed the souls of the Atlanteans and bound them to eternal torture for its own curiosity. I think the whole point for all of that was to throw that juxtaposition in, and reminds us that these are actual people dying and being bound to the will of a necromancer who has warped their souls to his own devices. I felt the build up of tension going the whole time until after the drive-in party. I think that was all exactly the point. For me it drove home that Stan is really just some schmuck of Janitor who’s more or less also an idiot in way over her head, and that Tim could quite literally crush us like a soda can if he had ever been so inclined. Frankly, I’m worried about the eventuality of going to face him, because he seems exactly the type to me to let us get all brazen over it before flicking his wrist and sending us reeling again: That’s exactly what he did at the drive in. He just wanted to drive home how grossly outmatched we are.
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>>5378495
I think that's a valid opinion to have and I thank you for being candid about it! I think >>5378528 made a lot of decent points about more grim stuff popping up in the quest before, but yea, maybe some of them were a bit too rushed and could have been built up a bit more.

Bones Quest has always been tricky to write in that respect--from the get-go I didn't want it to be solely comedic, but I didn't want grimdark either, so I tried to put in a little of column A and B when possible. I guess if I had to cite any inspiration, I'd probably go with the Evil Dead movies--despite the campy, B-Movie gorefests they became, at the end of the day Ash is a very tortured character--one who hides a lot of his pain behind rising to the occasion even if he doesn't want to.

As I hope it's been touched upon, Tim doesn't care about his thralls--I think that makes him and Stan very different people. If I had to give people a peek into my thought process, I was hoping that giving them such sudden deaths would strike that point home: that even though you've spent your whole quest defeating and befriending these skeletons and people, Tim could turn them off as quickly as one would flick a light switch.

That all said, finding the tone for Bones has been a task indeed--part of me thinks that I have Stan and others get over things a bit too quickly, but on the other hand Stan (and a few of her other friends) strike me as people who would cover those feelings up with other quirks rather than actually dealing with them. We all know Stan does that, of course, but I've also visited that with Art, Syb, Mitzi, Eddie, Kiki, and even Denise. People cope in very different ways when death, tragedy, and other things of that nature occur, so hopefully that came across somewhat.

All that said and done, however, I thank you for expressing your opinion--it's been an ongoing struggle in my head ever since I started this quest on how to maintain the tone, and I'll be the first to admit this chapter's certainly not one of the more warm and fuzzy ones. I really do hope what happened in this thread didn't feel like it was sprung upon, but I also recognize that it has been a pretty comedic quest this whole time and sudden bursts of seriousness can, and do, detract at times from that.

Anyways, thank you for letting me know--it's always good to get everyone's perspective on the subject!



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