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>>5082047
Welcome to BONES QUEST--the gift that keeps on giving whether you want it or not! Make sure to check out the following resources:

Archive Link to catch up with the story!
>http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.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!
>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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>>5082049
You sink lower behind what little cover you have as two glowing red eyes turn in your direction! Filling the dark and damp mine tunnels with a mournful wail that sends a shiver down your spine, the beast lingers in the cave far longer than you’re comfortable with! Go on, you hiss, GIT!

As per usual, the consequences arrive not too long after your actions: following your whisper, the owner of the eyes staggers a few steps in the direction of the rubble you’re hiding behind! D’OH!

“Are ya TRYIN’ ta’ get us killed?!” Scolds Ly from the safe confines of your body. “We’ve got a BUSTED LEG an’ no MAGICAL BONE MARROW in sight, remember? An’ who da’ hell knows what’s up wit’ da’ air in here!”

A stabbing pain courses through your mangled leg as if it heard you two talking about it. Right, you think–something tells you you aren’t gonna fix that with painkillers alone… If you’re gonna find some skeletons and, by extension, some more MAGIC MARROW, you’re gonna have to get moving!

A series of gurgles from the MUTANT currently sharing the room with you tells you that might not be as easy as it sounds. Ignoring the tickling sensation from your PAINTER’S RESPIRATOR, you quietly ponder your options…

What’s the plan here?
>DISTRACT THE MUTANT WITH A ROCK OR SOMETHING, THEN SLIP OUT!
>LET’S CUT TO THE CHASE! BONE CLAWS!
>YOU ONLY NEED ONE WORKING ARM TO FIRE A GUN–BLAST THIS GUY!
>TRY TO KNOCK IT OUT–YOU’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR PROOF OF SEWER MUTANTS FOR AGES!
>KEEP HIDING! IT’LL GO AWAY! PROBABLY!
>PERHAPS AN ITEM WILL WORK? (WHICH ONE?)
>WRITE-IN!

>>5082052
>PERHAPS AN ITEM WILL WORK? (SPRAY BOTTLE WITH STINGING, SHINY WATER)
Rocket launcher would be ideal but don't want to blow up the mine when we don't know where Art is although we probably could tank it with or without bone armor

>>5082060
>>5082052

Supporting this!

>>5082060
>>5082101
>SPRAY BOTTLE ATTACK!

Looks like we're giving this creep a shower! ROLL ME 1d100 TO SPRAY AND PRAY! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>5082151

FILLLLTHYYYY MUTIESSSSSS

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>5082151

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>5082151

>>5082153
>>5082154
>>5082221
>HIGHEST ROLL: 74!

Writing!

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As the freak’s damp, plodding footsteps approach your hiding spot, you quickly sift through your mental catalogue of available options. There’s your CLAWS, of course, but that would involve getting close.No way, Jose! Your trusty CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION could probably do the trick too, but who knows how many mutants are down here with you? Not to mention the recoil would probably twist your injured arm like a pretzel.

Trying and failing to ignore the labored wheezing of the approaching beast, you ultimately choose to play the inventory lotto and stuff your hand into your pockets! Almost immediately your hands close around the neck of some kind of bottle–the one you found in the CHURCH back in town! You’re still not sure what the hell’s in it, but one thing’s for sure–when you remove it from your pocket you immediately feel a slight burn in your already-weary eyes. Powerful stuff considering how dark it is!

Armed with what you hope is the solution to all your problems, you take a steadying breath as you hear a hand place itself on your cover! Letting loose with the most intimidating growl you can muster in your state, you pop up from your hiding place and unload on the mutant like a crazed, well, janitor!

While you don’t hear any sizzling or melting, your shout and subsequent assault does the trick! Wide-eyed from your surprise attack, the creature responds with its own surprised howl before stumbling away from you! Gaping at you in horror, the mutant scuttles back into the tunnels, screaming all the way! As you listen to its distorted voice grow faint, your chest swells with something akin to…

Pride?

“Well!” Ly remarks as you grin in manic triumph, “Dat’ uh… dat solves one of our problems…”

A faint giggle escapes your lips as the last few moments catch up to you–that was a mutant, you sputter! A real one! And you just scared it off!

“Yea, yea, don’t let it go ta’ yer’ head…” Your skeleton mutters as you pump your uninjured arm. Booyah!

Unfortunately the sudden action causes your vision to swim again, and coupled with the burning sensation you get staring at the SPRAY BOTTLE, you can’t help but slump behind the rubble once more! Stuffing your weapon back in your pockets, you try to shake off the haze rapidly enveloping your mind, but no dice–this uh… this might be bad!

“An’ it’s gonna get worse if we don’t track down some ‘healy-dealy’ an’ fast!” Ly reports as if lecturing you about your weight. “An’ it’s not like you were in tip-top shape before, cupcake.”

Ah. There it is.

>CONTD.

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>>5082264
Massaging your temples in a vague attempt to get a proverbial ‘grip’, you adjust your PAINTER’S RESPIRATOR a bit as it continues to irritate your mouth. The hell’s wrong with this thing, anyways?

“There’s always dat’ CLOAK we used ta’ breathe underwater…” Ly suggests as your vision tilts sideways. “Though we never got a chance ta’ see if dat’ AIR BUBBLE it makes can puncture or not…”

And you don’t plan on finding out, you growl! Levering yourself into a more upright sitting position, you briefly wonder what your moron friends are doing now that you’re probably gonna die… Art and Syb are probably pissed you separated them, of course, and Eddie’s probably already considering how he’ll write your death scene in the inevitable movie.

That Marshal you recruited is probably being a total jerk, too–no doubt saying crap like ‘she weren’t cut out fer’ it anyways!’ in that hick voice of his!

“We uh… we could always try callin’ folks on da’ RADIO, right?” Ly suggests, shattering your dramatic thoughts with a logical sledgehammer. Right, you sputter in surprise, you could!

Anyways, you can die later. Right now you’ve got time for a few more updates, at least! The question is, what do?
>USE THE RADIO TO CALL YOUR DIPSHIT FRIENDS!
>CALL BORIS! MAYBE HE DIED IN HERE–THAT SHOULD CHEER YOU UP!
>REMOVE THE PAINTER’S RESPIRATOR AND PUT ON YOUR SEA CLOAK!
>EXPLORE THE TUNNELS–YOU’VE GOTTA FIND SOME BONE MARROW!
>SCOUT AHEAD WITH THE REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5082265
>>USE THE RADIO TO CALL YOUR DIPSHIT FRIENDS!

>>5082265
>REMOVE THE PAINTER’S RESPIRATOR AND PUT ON YOUR SEA CLOAK!
>USE THE RADIO TO CALL YOUR DIPSHIT FRIENDS!

>>5082272
Support

>>5082265
>>USE THE RADIO TO CALL YOUR DIPSHIT FRIENDS!

>>5082265
>>REMOVE THE PAINTER’S RESPIRATOR AND PUT ON YOUR SEA CLOAK!
>>USE THE RADIO TO CALL YOUR DIPSHIT FRIENDS

changing to this

>>5082272
>>5082273
>>5082278
>PUT ON CLOAK!
>CALL YOUR PALS!

>>5082268
>CALL YOUR PALS!

Gonna be busy in a little bit, so this might be the last update of the night! Writing!

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As you ponder your next move, an unsettling thought makes its nest in your head: Art and the others probably saw you blow up, right? And… and then you didn’t check in with them yet!

“Yea…” Ly remarks as he imagines it alongside you. “They must be worried si-”
Those BASTARDS are probably already restructuring the gang, you exclaim! New colors, new titles, hell, they’ve probably already chosen a new leader! It better not be Art, damn it!

“Stan, I-”

Well you’re not standing for it, you snap! They don’t wanna give you a courtesy call and check if you’re okay? You’ll call THEM! And do you know why you’re gonna do that?!

“Er… why?” Ly replies weakly as you struggle to appear valiant in a pool of your own blood.

Because you’re the BOSS, damn it! First thing’s first, though: this mask is killing you! Reaching to pull it down, you feel the respirator grow even itchier--what’s wrong with this thing anyways?

Yanking off the mask, your answer comes in the form of a cluster of hairy, wriggling legs where the filter is! Sputtering in surprise, you chuck the breathing apparatus away from you just as the spidery legs swat at your face! Landing with an unsettling ‘scch’, you watch in abject horror as the limbs extend to their full length revealing your item as some kind of dog-sized creature!

Stretching its alien form out on the rough-hewn cavern floor, two hairy stalks sprout from the respirator’s filters and reveal a set of beady segmented eyes! Scowling at you the only way a freakish respirator bug can, the vermin sends an unnerving smooching noise your way before scuttling into the darkness!

…Well alrighty then.

INVENTORY PASTEBIN UPDATED!

>CONTD.

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>>5082333
Setting aside a few minutes to double-check if what you just saw was real or not, you and Ly finally and wordlessly don the SEA CLOAK you picked up earlier! Almost immediately you feel a sense of relief wash over you as breathing comes easier and your vision steadies somewhat.

“How we feelin’?” Asks your skeleton as you take a few more breaths. Still a little wonky, you reply, but better than before!

“Probably all dose’ painkillers we guzzled…” Ly suggests in a grave tone. “We’d better get some help and fast.”

They’re painkillers, you drama queen–they kill pain, not YOU. Flipping the bird in the direction your respirator ran off in, you hastily retrieve your trusty RADIO from your pants pocket–or try to.

Retrieving the device from your inventory causes it to blare with unusual static–no way Talbot or Mitzi could pull a sound off like that! Maybe Syb, you think aloud, but she’s not really one for pranks.

“Huh? Radio?” Ly mutters as the noise dies down somewhat. “What’s going on wit’ dat’ radio?”
You dunno, you hiss, but you know what’s going to happen to it if it keeps up that racket! Shaking your fist at the capricious machine, you let out a short, but still triumphant ‘hmph!’ as it goes quiet. That’s right, you chuckle, it knows what you’re capable of!

Lifting the device closer to your mouth, you prepare to address your loyal peons! If they even briefly contemplated mutiny, well-

“Err… one small problem, kiddo:” Ly interjects. “Who are we tryin’ ta’ reach, anyways? Did we even give da’ cliff group a radio?”

You fight through the pain in your arm to shrug derisively! Who knows? Not you--you’re too busy bleeding, remember? Rolling your eyes in the direction you expect Ly would be sitting right now, you press the CALL button and try to contact:

>ART! THERE’S NO WAY HE DIED IN THAT EXPLOSION!
>EDDIE! ART’S PROBABLY DEAD OR MAD AT YOU AGAIN!
>SOMEONE ELSE ON THE TEAM (WHO?)
>YOUR GOOD BOY CONTACT!
>BORIS!
>HAULIE PAULIE!
>CLIFF AND THE GREASERS!
>ANDRE!
>WRITE-IN!

That's it for tonight, folks--should be back and running SUNDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST! Hope to see you then--it's good to be back even if it wasn't that long of a break!

>>5082337
>>ART! THERE’S NO WAY HE DIED IN THAT EXPLOSION!

b-but not Boris by accident

>>5082337
>ART! THERE’S NO WAY HE DIED IN THAT EXPLOSION!

>>5082337
>ART! THERE’S NO WAY HE DIED IN THAT EXPLOSION!

>>5082337
>ART! THERE’S NO WAY HE DIED IN THAT EXPLOSION!

>>5082397
>>5082532
>>5082539
>>5082544
>ART!

Here goes! Writing!

>>5082397
God help us if he arrives to our rescue. We would prefer to be disassembled by the mutants.

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Crossing your fingers in one hand and cradling the RADIO in your other, you tune the device to the (hopefully) right channel and deliver the good news to whoever’s listening: you lived, bitch!

Your declaration is answered by a squeal more-suited for some kind of quirky robot sidekick.

“Must be somethin’ interferin’ wit’ da’ signal…” Ly remarks, earning a frown from you. Like hell it is, you snarl as you smack the gadget against the floor a few times! This is it: THE USURPATION!

“Th- -at?” Crackles a familiar voice on the other line! Art, you growl, you know what he’s planning!

“Dr-t,” Art jokes through a heavy dose of static, “-ou go- me.”

You ain’t laughing!

“-er-ously th-... -ough- w- lost you b-k th-...” He continues in a more serious, albeit nigh-unintelligible tone. “-ou fine?”

You pause to take stock of your SMOKIN’ HOT BOD. Has he seen you lately?

“-eant are you oka-, -oron.” Replies the Rent-A-Cop with refreshing sarcasm. “-u in-ured?”

Err… you mutter, yes. A pause falls over the conversation.

“... -at do-n’t -ell me any-ing.”

Well that’s his fault for asking two questions, you groan! And it doesn’t matter–you’re not okay, damn it! Your leg is twisted like a churro, you’ve got a hole in your arm big enough to fit a hot dog through, and you’ve lost enough blood to fill a family-sized bag of chips!

… you might also be getting kinda hungry.

You can barely pick up hushed chatter on the other end of the radio.

“-st find s-me -ne ma-row.”

Is this thing on? You just said you’re hurt, damn it, not to mention you’re seeing MUTANTS and your respirator turned into a spider! And did you mention you’re getting hangry? They need to double-time it and bring you some treats!

“-hit…” Art replies. “-e took c-e of th- -nslingers… -ddie domed -at LYLE -uy. -ny cl- -ere you are in -e -ines?”

DEEP, you growl. It’s not exactly popping with landmarks.

“-ighty then… -ry to -nd someth-.” He suggests. “-’ll come fi- you.”

You can barely hear the sound of a familiar, cantankerous voice on the other side.

“Right… The Marshal says ‘don’- -the -ir!”

Frowning, you ask him to repeat that last bit, but all you get is static. No, damn it, the other part!

“Guess it’s a bad signal…” Ly remarks as you tap the device a few times for good measure. “Not a bad idea, though–we really oughta’ fin-”

Your skeleton’s suggestion is cut off by a mechanical screech from the radio’s speaker that causes both you and Ly to jolt into the air! Dying down as quickly as it arrived, the radio continues to taunt you with a low crackle… followed by an unfamiliar voice.

“Stanley Parble…” the stranger drawls in a deep, laconic voice, “figured you’d show up.”

>CONTD.

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>>5083116
The clearness of the voice makes your hair stand on end–almost as if the owner was standing in the room with you. Scanning what little you can see in the collapsed cavern for any sign of an intruder, you bring your radio closer to your mouth and give it a glare–who the hell is he?

“Me? No one in particular.” The voice replies with a smirk in his tone. “Just an’ old killer looking for purpose in this crazy new world…” A pause. “... automobiles, huh? Y’all have been busy since I’ve been gone.”

“Stan…” Ly mutters in your head, “It’s him! Gotta be!”

You nod and whisper the name into the radio’s receiver:

KAYSEN BLACK!

Wait, was that it?

The stranger answers with a bemused chuckle. “I see my reputation almost precedes me. Guess I didn’t make as much history as I thought I would, did I?” You feel a cold breeze tickle your shoulder as a sigh drifts through the radio.

“Still, not bad for a cleaning lady. Though I reckon you’d have to be some kind of special to stay alive for this long. Then again…” Black gasps dramatically. “You aren’t looking so good, Stanley.”

That friggin’ does it! Whirling around in your seated position, you deliver a vicious haymaker to…

Air… and nothing else.

“So close!” Clayton snickers. “Don’t strain yourself too hard, my dear–I have no intention of killing you… not yet, at least.”

In that case, you grunt, where the heck is he? He’s coming in pretty clear for a voice over the radio!

“Well ain’t that the question?” He replies with an ample helping of static. “These mines run deep, Stan–lots of hiding spots, y’see? I could be above…” He explains, “or below… could be right around that corner,” Black adds, voice echoing from further down the tunnel, “or maybe even…”

A bony yanks the tail of your COONSKIN HAT.

“Right behind y-!”

Not this time! Triggering your BONE CLAWS, you swiftly stab the offender behind you before he can finish his sentence!

>CONTD.

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>>5083119
… at least, you thought you did. Bringing your hand back into the light provided by your CELLPHONE, confusion settles in as you notice two things: first, you didn’t stab anyone. Second, your claws aren’t coming out! Flicking whatever ‘switch’ activates them in your body, your pulse quickens as your go-to weapons fail to pop out! Attempting the same thing with your BONE ARMOR, you come to a similar result: NADA!

“Don’t strain yourself on my account, missy.” Clayton says with a laugh! “You’ll need that energy for when I come lookin’ for ya… unless something else gets you first…”

The air around you grows colder as a sinister laugh reverberates throughout the tunnels. So much for a stealth mission… Dragging yourself towards the entrance to the rest of the tunnels, you contemplate how to respond to your next target…

>STAY QUIET–YOU’LL TRACK HIM DOWN SOON ENOUGH!
>ASK HIM ABOUT BORIS AND THE OTHERS!
>GRILL HIM ABOUT HIMSELF! MAYBE HE LIKES TO MONOLOGUE?
>QUESTION HIM ABOUT THE MINES–HE MIGHT ACCIDENTALLY DROP A HINT OR TWO!
>INQUIRE ABOUT YOUR PALS!
>PISS HIM OFF! IF HE’S ANGRY HE MIGHT SLIP UP!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5083122
>QUESTION HIM ABOUT THE MINES–HE MIGHT ACCIDENTALLY DROP A HINT OR TWO!
>>PISS HIM OFF! IF HE’S ANGRY HE MIGHT SLIP UP!

This is the Stanley way.

>>5083122
>>GRILL HIM ABOUT HIMSELF! MAYBE HE LIKES TO MONOLOGUE?

>>5083122
>QUESTION HIM ABOUT THE MINES–HE MIGHT ACCIDENTALLY DROP A HINT OR TWO!
Let's try to keep it short. The more noise we make the more likely we are to attract something that won't be scared away by just a bottle of holy-water.

>>5083122
>QUESTION HIM ABOUT THE MINES–HE MIGHT ACCIDENTALLY DROP A HINT OR TWO!

>>5083125
>>5083127
>>5083134
>>5083137
THE COUNT:

>MINES = 3!
>PISS HIM OFF! = 1
>HIMSELF! = 1

Mine what you say! Writing!

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So, you begin on the off-chance that the gunslinger’s still tuned in, a mine, huh? Pretty spooky at first, sure, but why’d he decide to hole up here again?

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?” Clayton’s voice echoes from further down the tunnel. “You camp out in an abandoned mine long enough, eventually it starts to feel homey!”

Yea, you shrug, but didn’t he DIE last time he was here?

“Every home’s got its share of problems…” He continues, this time from behind your ear. “But you can’t argue with the built-in security, can ya?”

Sure, you mutter as you pull your SEA CLOAK closer. The AIR, right? You hear faint laughter creep through the rocky floor beneath your fingers.

“Yes, I see you two have already become acquainted… smart of you to bring masks, but too little, too late–once you get a whiff, well…”

The gunslinger punctuates his sentence with an unsettling ‘kkchh’ sound as you feel the ghost of a finger run across your throat.

“Who knows?” He continues as you hear footsteps around the corner of the tunnel, “If you leave quick enough, maybe you’ll be fine!” Turning the corner, you find yourself staring down a long minecart tunnel dimly lit by a line of dusty old lanterns.

“And if you manage to make it to the center of the mines, well…” He continues, causing the lanterns to flicker with each word, “hmm. Never mind–wouldn’t want to spoil the fun.”

The CENTER, huh? Good of a clue as any… continuing down the tunnel, you hear the faint moan of the MUTANT you scared off earlier–as to where it’s coming from, well… that remains to be seen.

“Careful where you shoot, pard–” Clayton taunts as you spot a surprisingly serviceable MINE CART sitting on the tracks, “your friends came by with a few chips on their shoulders too–I wager they’re starting to feel a mite tuckered out by now as well…”

You can’t help but blink at that–does that mean that dipstick Boris is tripping out too? You would kill to see how he’s handling this crap–probably crying in a pool of his own pee!

“Consider this a ‘head start’, Stanley!” The gunslinger shouts from the cavern you came from! “Starting now it’s open season on whatever the hell you are–hope you feel better… and soon!”

With that, a gale rips through the tunnel and puts out all the lanterns! Left in the dark with nothing but your phone to light your way, you linger for a moment to get your bearings...

>CONTD.

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>>5083243
What do?
>CONTINUE DOWN THE TUN

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a bullet ricocheting down the tunnel! Collapsing to the ground, your hat is grazed by a bullet speeding through the air where your head just was! Scampering behind the cart, you frantically weigh your options as raucous laughter echoes through every inch of the mines!

”GO!”

What do?
>CRAWL FURTHER INTO THE TUNNELS!
>HIDE IN THE MINECART!
>RIDE THE MINECART FURTHER IN!
>SCOUT THINGS OUT WITH YOUR REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5083244
>>RIDE THE MINECART FURTHER IN!

>>5083244
>RIDE THE MINECART FURTHER IN!

>>5083244
>HIDE IN THE MINECART!
My bets on this being Boris's Goons. But they're still goodboy security, and wearing masks at that. If they're not just hallucinations themselves, they might be able to help us provided we can make them aware of us (and that they're not tripping balls despite their masks).

>>5083254
But failing that, the minecart is probably the best option.

>>5083244
>RIDE THE MINECART FURTHER IN!
The time shall come for duck

>>5083244
>>RIDE THE MINECART FURTHER IN!

>>5083246
>>5083251
>>5083259
>>5083280
>OBLIGATORY MINECART LEVEL

>>5083254
>HIDE IN IT THOUGH

I've heard of 'railroading, but this is ridiculous! Writing!

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“Holy SMOKES!” Ly exclaims as you tug your cap closer to your head! “Dat’... dat’ was real, right?!”

You don’t plan on sticking around long enough to find out! Hoisting yourself into the nearby minecart as fast as your broken body lets you, your landing is cushioned by a pile of…

HEADS?!

“Do you mind?” Tucker asks as you remove your foot from his annoyed face. “I was just getting comfy…”

“Hey Stan.” Gus adds as you get situated! Yea, hi. Kinda busy here! Scanning the tunnel for any more bullets, you can’t help but frown as your means of escape fails to get going! What gives!?

“You do know that minecarts don’t move on their own, right?” Sybil asks in a half-sympathetic, half-lecturing voice. “What did you expect to happen?”

Well, you hastily reply as you bodyslam the cart in the direction you want to go, you were expecting to be GONE by now! That’s how it works in literally every game you’ve ever played!

“Too bad!” Talbot scoffs, rolling his red-maned head into view, “If I was there I coulda’ given it a push, but you just had to go and pick Art and Ed!”

“Hey! I could totally get it moving too!” Eddie’s head fires back from the bottom of the pile! “Don’t be jealous because you weren’t picked for once!”

Alright, you growl, everybody shut up! You’re not trying to favor anybody, damn it, and besides, you’ve got more important stuff on your mind n-

A cluster of glowing projectiles sail past your head before you can finish your lecture, each dripping with fluorescent goo! As Kiki’s head groans in frustration at the drops landing on her face, you shift your view towards where the projectiles came from!

A pair of glowing eyes identical to the ones you saw on the mutant slowly approach from the shadows, and with an unsettling gagging noise, more projectiles fire from the wretched creature’s mouth! Ducking below them, you frantically ask the heads for help–how do you get this thing going?!

“Bodyslam it again!” Eddie suggests!
“Get out and push!” Art groans!
“Any chance you could stick me on the front?” Mitzi’s head asks excitedly. “If we do get this thing going it’ll be like a roller coaster!”

“Christ, Stan, pull da’ BRAKE!” Ly interrupts, causing you to snap out of whatever it is you were in! Ducking below a fresh salvo of MUTANT DARTS, you lean over the edge of the cart and find a rusty lever! This must be the stuff!

“I mean… we’re still on level ground.” Art’s head groans. “It’s not just gonna speed off into the sunset.”

We’ll see about that, won’t we?

ROLL 1d100-5 TO GET THINGS ROLLING! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! IF YOU HAVE A SPECIFIC STRAT IN MIND TO MOVE THE CART FORWARD, WRITE IT IN!

Rolled 69 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5083368

Strategy: just lean forwards and pray.
FUCKING MUTIES

Rolled 21 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5083368

>>5083386
+1. also has it been a day since Syb used haste? could use that on the cart

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>5083388
forgot to roll

>>5083388

Less, but NPCs exist for a reason: to do our bidding as we please-- just look what we did to Art in his death-thread

theory: these mutants are a by-product of outliving whatever noxious gas is in these caves, and Clayton's body wasn't compatible with it. Said gas grants longevity, and these mutants have likely lost their minds to it. [/spoiler mutant bone racoon, mutant bone racoon...

>>5083388
I'm not sure you are reading this update right anon...

>>5083388
Yea, she's still a little cranky and tired--no chance she's casting that spell today especially after not getting much sleep the night before

>>5083391
>NPCs exist to do Stan's bidding
Can I just say that as the QM I am pleased as punch that you guys are so in-tune with Stan's bordeline-psychotic relationship with her pals?

Also, very interesting theory, anon...

>>5083386
>>5083387
>>5083390
>HIGHEST ROLL: 64!

Writing!

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As you reach for the brake release on the cart, your body fights you every step of the way! Clenching your teeth through the pain, you feel some more MUTANT SPIT graze your hat as you clasp your hands around… a SNAKE?!

“What’s the matter, bumblebee? Bit off more than you can chew?”
https://youtu.be/mHjH3DyKChU
You feel the color drain from your face as an all-too-familiar bass beat shakes the walls of the tunnel! No! NOOOOO!

Closing your eyes and violently shaking your head, you reluctantly look in the direction of the music and find yourself staring into the yellow eyes of some kind of BORIS-SNAKE HYBRID! Oh thank god, you thought it was something else! Deftly wriggling out of your grasp, your High School tormentor taunts you with that stupid ‘half-chuckle’ thing he always does!

“Sure was nice when I wasn’t in the race, huh, Stan?” He muses to himself as he ducks and weaves past your grab attempts! “You could take your sweet time, make a few mistakes here and there, and for the first time in your life you even got to feel important. That must have felt good!”

“Is that Boris?” Talbot shouts from the head pile at your knees! “Tell him to stuff it!”

“And don’t forget all the friends!” Borisnake adds as the MUTANTS draw closer! “Won’t it be swell when all this is over and you can hang out? Especially with You-Know-Who?” He adds with a knowing wink! Wh-what the hell is he talking about?! Turn back into a brake handle, dick!

“But wait a minute, Stannie–what if… what if they’re only tagging along to save the world?” The snake suggests, cocking his serpent head to the side in mock contemplation. “Or what if… and hear me out here: what if they just want their share of the glory?”

You hate to admit it, but that question makes you pause… For… the glory?

>CONTD.

File: borisnake.png (123 KB, 800x600)

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>>5083483
Borisnake looks at you as if you just asked him what planet you’re currently on.

“Come on, Stan, you know you better than anyone else–what are the odds these dorks won’t just ditch you the minute this all blows over? Those film kids will be busy with their movie, you kidnapped Artie-”

You BORROWED him, you snap! And it doesn’t matter–no one’s leaving you behind!

“So sure, are you?” The snake laughs, keeping your hand at bay with fangs dripping with venom! “Didn’t you hear? He’s got a girlfriend now–one who happens to be the only person who stands you! Remember what happened when your BROTHER got close with that ART BITCH HEATHER?” The snake’s eyes go wide in realization! “Wait a minute… Art’s a bit of an ART BITCH too, isn’t he?”

That friggin’ DOES it! Bringing both hands forward in a pincer attack, you clasp both around the snake’s throat and get to work throttling it! You don’t care what the hell he is or what he represents–that stuff he just mentioned ain’t happening!

A cold, rueful bout of laughter escapes from Borisnake’s throat as you slowly gain control over him! Withering in your grasp, the serpent looks you in the eyes one last time.

“Two… kinds of people… score… points… an… pass… ball…”

Snapping his neck, you feel the cart lurch forward along the tracks! Looks like that did something! Releasing the Snake Brake Stick, a triumphant sigh escapes your lips as you slump back into the cart–take that, Borisna-

A fresh batch of pain slices through your shoulder before you can finish your thought, causing you to collapse into the side of the cart! Staying low, you bring the wound closer to your eyes and watch in horror as a glob of fluorescent slime coalesces into a crowd of tiny mutants! Sensing your gaze, they blow a raspberry in your direction before burrowing into the fresh cut and under your skin! Wait a minute, you sputter, what about the CLOAK?!

“Bubble’s fine!” Ly shouts as you feel your weight shift a bit. “An’ we’ve got bigger problems!”

>CONTD.

File: fork.jpg (318 KB, 1200x762)

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>>5083485
Before you can ask what he means, your eyes turn skyward and reveal a mass of…Bony hands?! Sitting up in your seat, you watch a mutant disappear in the distance as the cart picks up speed and rushes along the rusty tracks! Hey, you’re moving!

“Sure, but where?!” Ly asks as another mutant stumbles out of the way of your ride! Does it matter anymore?

“It will in a minute!” Ly retorts as he points your head towards the front of the cart! Squinting through the green haze clogging the tunnel, you see a section of tracks splitting off into two different directions! Maybe you’re still messed up from blood loss, but both options seem mighty peculiar:

THE LEFT PATH is strewn with PENCILS, OLD NOTEBOOKS, AND BOOKS–TEXTBOOKS, YOU THINK! As you speed through the fog, you can almost hear the sound of familiar cheers, chattering kids, and a bell ringing in the distance!

You can smell THE RIGHT PATH before you can see it–the foul and all-too-familiar scent of CLEANING PRODUCTS AND BURNING BONES awaits you through a haze choked with fine white particles–BONE DUST. The sound of heavy machinery cuts through the tunnels, easily drowning out the sound of ringing phones and warning sirens!

Biting your lip at your choices, you ask Ly if he’s seeing what you’re seeing.

“Yep…” Ly whispers in an uncertain tone, “an’ I don’t like either of ‘em, kid.”

Neither do you, but this cart clearly ain’t gonna stop any time soon! The question is, which way do you lean?

>THE LEFT PATH!
>THE RIGHT PATH!
>JUST BAIL OUT! BINARY CHOICES SUCK!
>WAIT… IS THAT A PATH IN THE CENTER? YOU CAN BARELY MAKE OUT… (WRITE-IN ANOTHER APPROPRIATELY-DEVIOUS SETTING!)
>WRITE-IN!

That's all for tonight, folks--got a big day tomorrow and I'm already feeling a little winded. Should be ready for more MONDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Will probably be on my laptop, though. Thanks as always for playing--gonna update the imgur a little bit before signing off!

>>5083486
>>WAIT… IS THAT A PATH IN THE CENTER? YOU CAN BARELY MAKE OUT… GREEN LIGHT, GREEN SOUNDS, GREEN FEELS, GREEN...

File: roads-where-were-going-we(...).gif (1.53 MB, 640x346)

1.53 MB GIF

>>5083486
>>5083492

SUpport

>invisible, mind-generated snakes
>a sizeable place that's seemingly-impossible to get out of

Impromptu crossover? Now slip in some DBZ, BNHA/JoJo, 40k, and StV and watch this thread reach quest singularity.pic related

>>5083495
I'm DROWNING in the possibilities, anon!

>>5083486
>THE LEFT PATH!

>>5083486
>THE LEFT PATH!
You're batshit mad to want to deal with the faries.

>>5083592
That's what I'm saying. That bitch is bad news. Plus, didn't we make a promise to Sybil? Or am I misremembering that?

>>5083486

Going off of this >>5083495
>WAIT… IS THAT A PATH IN THE CENTER? YOU CAN BARELY MAKE OUT… BLUE, FURTHER THAN THE EYE CAN SEE. AND WORDS, TOO MANY FOR YOU TO COUNT-— SPAWNING WORLDS OF ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES

if we can break the fourth wall, we can enter the metaverse

File: unnamed.jpg (98 KB, 900x900)

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>>5084013
>>5083486

Anon this is a fucking fantastic idea, and I'm changing my vote to go with this.

>>5083592

I was actually hoping that the green would lead us to the secret of Stan's blackout mode, but chances are we'll most likely have to deal with that stupid fairy if we go the green route.

>>5084013
+1

>>5083492
>THE GREEEEEEN

>>5083520
>>5083592
>TO THE LEFT!

>>5084013
>>5084082
>>5084139
>OH GOD IT ESCAPED!

Hooo boy, let's see if I can do this kickass write-in any justice... WRITING

File: theinbetween.jpg (48 KB, 1280x720)

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You’re just about to start leaning when you see it–a sliver of light peeking through the rock ahead barely wider than a strand of hair! Sensing your gaze, the fissure widens, pushing your two original choices to the side and revealing a… well…

Little help here, Ly?

“No friggin’ clue, cupcake.” Your skeleton replies as your ride hurtles towards a convulsing mass of blue… clouds? If you didn’t know any better, you remark, you’d say it was some kind of PORTAL.

“Da’ question is:” your skeleton retorts as something pulls at every atom in your body, “where da’ heck does it lead?”

Wherever it goes, you hiss, it’s better than WORK! Or SCHOOL! Bathed in a blinding azure light, you white-knuckle the sides of the cart as the anomaly sucks you in, minecart and all!

Even before your eyes can recover, a sudden weightlessness and a disconcerting lack of sound tells that something’s gone terribly, TERRIBLY wrong. Blinking your eyes clear, you find yourself lying on the bottom of your cart face-up towards a yawning expanse of blue…

But it’s more than that.

From the cerulean abyss comes a flock of tiny shapes like a colossal flock of birds! Like ice in a hailstorm they rush past your vessel, some even colliding with the side of the cart with a gentle ‘PLINK!’ Watching them descend, you almost capsize your vessel when three or four of the objects land in the cart next to your collection of friend’s heads!

“Hey, WATCH IT!” Eddie’s head shouts!

“Fascinating…” Syb’s head adds as you stoop to get a closer look at your new passengers, “What have you stumbled onto, Stan?”

That’s what you’d like to know! Snatching up and examining one of the unidentified objects closer, your headache from before returns with renewed vigor. Wriggling in your outstretched hand like a beached trout is a string of letters that rapidly shifts through a cornucopia of hues and textures! Hot, cold, rough, smooth, dry, wet–before you can catalogue them all a particularly pointy vowel sinks its newly-grown spines into your hand, causing you to drop it to the bottom of the cart!

“EASY!” Snaps Art’s head as you shake the residual sting from your hand, “we’ve got no clue as to what that thing is!”

That’s why you DROPPED it, you snap! Besides, you continue as your vehicle sails through the blue void, it’s a word! What’s the worst that can happen?

“Well,” Mitzi’s head answers as the words begin to violently bubble at your feet, “I guess we’re about to find out?”

Before you can bail the wanton words out of your cart, their letters shift into a term you’re all too familiar with…

>SAMURAI! WAIT, LIKE THE SWORDSMEN?
>ALIEN! TALK ABOUT A CLOSE ENCOUNTER!
>YANDERE! OH GOD, IS THIS AN ANIME THING?
>ROBOT! ER… THE FRIENDLY KIND, RIGHT?
>WRITE-IN!

>>5084653
>ROBOT! ER… THE FRIENDLY KIND, RIGHT?

>>5084653
>ALIEN! TALK ABOUT A CLOSE ENCOUNTER!

>>5084653
>Raccoon, you hope it's a plushy and not an actual raccoon or an insult aimed at you

>>5084653
>ROBOT! ER… THE FRIENDLY KIND, RIGHT?

>>5084653
>ROBOT! ER… THE FRIENDLY KIND, RIGHT?

>>5084653
>ROBOT! ER… THE FRIENDLY KIND, RIGHT?

>>5084659
>>5085348
>>5085350
>>5085558
>ROBOT!

>>5084826
>ALIEN!

>>5084827
>RACCOON!

WRITING!

File: robotssss.jpg (25 KB, 399x514)

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ROBOT! As the words leave your lips, three humanoid figures burst from the letters clad in shiny chrome and each sporting a singular glowing red lamp in the center of their head!

”CONFIRMATION:” Booms the one stuffed closest to you in the cart, “THAT WE ARE. SUGGESTION: YOU MUST BE THE LOST PROTOTYPE!” CHASTISEMENT: SHAME ON YOU FOR RUNNING OFF ON YOUR OWN!

”GENUINE COMPLIMENT:” Declares the one in the middle, “YOUR DERMIC SHIELDING IS QUITE CONVINCING!”

”ADDITIONAL COMPLIMENT:” Adds the third as it holds onto the side of the cart for dear life, ”IF MY PROCESSOR DIDN’T KNOW ANY BETTER IT WOULD DETERMINE THAT YOU ARE THE REAL, SQUISHY, FEEBLE, HUMAN THING!”

You begin to tell them that you are the real, squishy, feeble, human thing, but a searing pain in your temples stops you! Ow!

“Ix-nay on da’ uman-hay!” Ly hisses as you and your vehicle slopes downwards! Peering around your new passengers, you watch with mild interest as a nearby cloud of words slowly, but surely forms the outline of some kind of FACTORY! Following some unseen tracks, the minecart pulls into the end of an assembly line packed to the brim with inactive robots similar to the ones you just met!

Blinking in confusion, by the time you open your eyes the blue void is completely replaced by a sea of glowing machinery and moving parts–both unlike anything you ever saw at GOOD BOY! Must be one of those new-fangled ‘Up-to-Code’ plants.

Ducking under a massive robotic claw, you nearly jump out of your dermic shielding when the robot closest to you clasps his not-as-massive robotic claw on your shoulder!

”CASUAL INTERROGATION: SO, PROTOTYPE: IF YOU WERE TO PRESENT OVERMIND ‘DEEDS’ WITH A GIFT, WHAT WOULD YOU GIVE THEM? AWAITING ANSWER!”

”AWAITING ANSWER!” The other two exclaim! Wait a minute, you stammer, who’s Deeds? The eye of the robot nearest to you dims a bit in response.

”CONCERN: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CONSTRUCT ANY JOKES THAT WOULD IMPLY MEMORY LOSS, PROTOTYPE. ESPECIALLY CONCERNING OVERMIND ‘DEEDS’...”

The second robot leans over his partner’s shoulder to shake his head at you.

”PLAYFUL DISBELIEF: WHY, IT’S ALMOST AS IF YOU WANT TO BE DISASSEMBLED AND GIVEN A REPLACEMENT MEMORY CORE! AMUSING, PROTOTYPE!”

”ASSENT: YES, QUITE AMUSING!” Adds the third as he nods his head up and down. ”AWAITING RESPONSE!”

Echoing their pal’s last statement, the robots continue to do so as you struggle to come up with a gift idea for someone you’ve never met. Gifts, huh? Well if you had to choose…

>DATA! ROBOTS LOVE DATA, RIGHT?
>SOME KIND OF PLANT!
>A CUTE ANIMAL OF SOME KIND? AS LONG AS IT ISN’T HUMAN, RIGHT?
>A HUMAN! ‘DEEDS’ WOULD PROBABLY LIKE THAT!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5085648
>>DATA! ROBOTS LOVE DATA, RIGHT?

>>5085648
>SOME KIND OF PLANT!

>>5085648
>>DATA! ROBOTS LOVE DATA, RIGHT?

>>5085650
>>5085682
>DATA!

>>5085677
>A PLANT!

Writing!

File: redeye.jpg (18 KB, 351x257)

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The answer comes to you almost instantaneously–some DATA, you reply with a snap of your totally non-human fingers! ’Deeds’ would totally go for that! The robot next to you contemplates your response for a moment before answering with a loud ‘DING!’

”DIPLOMATIC RESPONSE: YES, I SUPPOSE THAT WOULD BE ACCEPTABLE. IT IS PRONOUNCED ‘DEEDS’, BY THE WAY.”

The robot’s answer admittedly takes some of the wind out of your sails. Or maybe it’s just the blood loss. ‘Acceptable’, you ask? Data’s totally a good answer! You saw it in a computer commercial once! Sensing suspicion growing in what passes for the robot’s faces, you swiftly dispel their misgivings with a well-timed ‘BEEP’!

”COUNTERPOINT: WELL YOU KNOW HOW OVERMIND ‘DEEDS’ FEELS ABOUT HUMANS… AS DO US ALL…” Replies the middle robot. ”CONFIDENT DECLARATION: IT WILL BE GOOD TO LEAVE THIS FACTORY AND PERFORM OUR DUTIES.”

Seeing your fellow passengers beep menacingly, you cautiously join in and try to avoid making eye-contact with your friend’s heads still lying silently on the floor of the minecart. How long is this ride anyways?

”ANSWER: ONE MINUTE AND FIVE SECONDS.” Replies the robot in the front of the cart as it approaches some kind of station. Though your ride doesn’t seem to want to slow down, several other robots take the opportunity to leave the assembly line and clank their way towards a massive gate at the end of a long metal walkway. Sensing their approach, the gate swings open bathing the factory with a blinding orange light!

”ANNOUNCEMENT: AH, WE APPEAR TO HAVE ARRIVED.” Muses the robot next to you. ”COME ALONG, PROTOTYPE–OVERMIND ‘DEEDS’ WILL NO DOUBT BELOADING HUMAN IDIOM DATABASE… APPROPRIATE IDIOM ACQUIRED… PARSING… VERIFYING…’HAPPY AS A CLAM’ TO SEE YOU.”

As the three of them clasp their cold, unfeeling claws onto your battered body to help you out of the cart, it suddenly occurs to you that you might have had something else going on prior to all this…

>CONTD.

File: assemblyline.jpg (388 KB, 800x410)

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>>5085736
“You did: does ‘Findin’ some BONE MARROW’ an’ ‘Wastin’ a LIEUTENANT’ ring any bells?”

Mulling over Ly’s words, you spare a glance towards where the cart is headed as the robots take a step off of the vehicle with their telescoping limbs: the assembly line culminates in a steep, dimly-lit tunnel with the word RECYCLING lit above it on a glowing digital readout. As the cart approaches the tunnel you get a whiff of the foul stench of burning metal… Color me NOT-INTERESTED!

“An’ what if we get stranded here because dat’ cart was our only way out?” Ly counters. “You really wanna roll ‘dem dice, kid?”

Sure you do if this ‘Deeds’ is as cool as these guys say, you retort as you take a weak step out of the cart.

”CORRECTION: ‘DEEDS!’”

Right, sorry! Now that you think about it, though, this world might totally SUCK compared to yours… based on the info you’ve gathered, you ultimately decide to:

>DISEMBARK! LET’S SEE WHO THIS ‘DEEDS’ IS!
>WRIGGLE BACK INTO THE CART!
>COME CLEAN! TELL THEM YOU’RE ACTUALLY A HUMAN!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5085738
>>WRIGGLE BACK INTO THE CART!

>>5085738
>WRIGGLE BACK INTO THE CART!
With how messed up we are, we're in no shape to handle trouble.

Gonna get back to this WEDNESDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST, all. Apologies if there aren't any references to other quests here--still debating on how meta I wanna take things and don't want to step on any other QM's toes. Also feeling kinda off today, so hopefully I can kick things into gear again next time. Thanks for being patient AND for the write-ins--always appreciate 'em even if I can't always deliver!

>>5085738
>WRIGGLE BACK INTO THE CART!

>>5085738
>DISEMBARK! LET’S SEE WHO THIS ‘DEEDS’ IS!

>>5085744
>>5085885
>>5086033
>WORM TACTICS

>>5086049
>PROTOTYPE ROBOT BUT ACTUALLY A HUMAN QUEST

Gonna post a quick update! Should pop in around the usual time after that!

Shitty as your home... [i]dimension?[/i] might be, you can't help but question whether or not this one is any better! All the shouting these tin cans are doing is gonna leave you with a headache 24/7! Now that you think about it...

Retrieving your uninjured arm from one of the robots, you politely ask your coworkers/captors when the next break is. You know, their 'CHARGING TIME' or whatever. All three cock their heads to the side in bafflement.

[b]"PERPLEXED QUERY: BREAK?"[/b]

Okay, that settles it! Wriggling free from their grasp like a fish, you unceremoniouslyflop on top of your collection of friend heads just as the cart picks up speed!

[b]"PANICKED EXCLAMATION: THE PROTOTYPE! IT'S HEADED FOR THE RECYCLING PLANT! THEY MUST BE MALFUNCTIONING!"[/b] Hearing the commotion, several other robots headed for the gate turn around to investigate the reason behind their comrade's shouting!

That's [i]right[/i], you chuckle as you stand up and give the growing robot horde a jaunty salute! Stanley Parbleain't nobody's bitch! Next stop: [i]ANYWHERE ELSE[/i]!

[b]"RUSHED, BUT PRACTICAL SUGGESTION: QUICK! PRESS THE EMERGENCY TRACK SHUT-DOWN BUTTON!"[/b] Blurts one of the robots as it points a metallic appendage in the direction of a conveniently-placed [red]RED BUTTON[/red] on a panel sitting next to the conveyor belt. Man, you remark as the robots rush for the switch, if this was [green]GOOD BOY[/green] you'd have to parkour halfway across the assembly floor to find that!

"They made da' right choice installin' those suicide nets, though." Ly adds. "Oh right, you might wanna stop dose' guys."

Ugh, [i]fine[/i]... Cracking your neck, you put [blue]OPERATION DON'T TOUCH[/blue] into action!

Err... what is [blue]OPERATION: DON'T TOUCH,[/blue] again?

>BLAST THE BUTTON! GUN, LASER, WHATEVER IT TAKES! (WRITE IN WHAT YOU USE!)
>TAKE OUT SOME OF THE ROBOTS USING (GUN, LASER, ITEM)!
>DISTRACT THEM! (WRITE-IN OR LEAVE BLANK FOR A RANDOM DISTRACTION!)
>WRITE-IN!

>>5086510
>DISTRACT THEM! (WRITE-IN OR LEAVE BLANK FOR A RANDOM DISTRACTION!)
"WHATS FIVE DIVIDED BY ZERO?"

>>5086510
>>5086514 +1

>>5086514
>>5086510

+1

>>5086514
>>5086518
>>5086525
>DISTRACTION!
Writing!

File: parrotdonks.jpg (55 KB, 550x550)

55 KB JPG

Of course! How could you forget OPERATION: DON’T TOUCH? Clearing your throat, you cup your hands around your mouth and shout a simple statement at the growing robot horde:

”What’s 5 divided by 0?!?”

A beat goes by before the robot reaching for the button freezes in place! Then another! And another! Sending sparks all over the workshop, the army is paralyzed save for a cacophony of clicking servos, whirring fans, and a string of incomprehensible gibberish!

”ERROR: ANSWER UNDEFINED! ERROR: ANSWER UNDEFINED! ERROR-”

Leaning back in your escape cart, you allow yourself a triumphant chuckle as Ly observes your handiwork.

“Don’t know how ya’ did it, cupcake, but ya’ did it… what da’ heck did ya’ say, anyways?”

He’s as dumb as those guys, you reply with a derisive laugh! You just stole a line from that ‘HARD REBOOT’ game you used to play–it’s one of those ‘parrot donks’ things!

“A paradox, ey?” Your skeleton remarks as some of the robots struggle to come after you in between bouts of sparks and smoke! “Dose’ are da’ things wit’ no answer, right?”

Wrong again, dingbat! If you divide FIVE pieces of pizza between ZERO people, you get FIVE! What a bunch of boneheads!

“That’s not how it works.” Art’s head growls at your feet. “If you look at the statement y-”

BO-RIIIIIING! you interject as you cover the heads with your FUR COAT! The point is it WORKED! Humans: A billion, Computers: ZIP!

"ALARMED REALIZATION: THESE IRREGULAR CONCLUSIONS AREN'T POSSIBLE FOR A MACHINE, EVEN A PROTOTYPE! COULD THEY BE A HUMAN!?"

You blow a raspberry in response to the robot crawling after you! That's right, morons, and you're OUTTA here! Next stop: OPEN BAR & SUNNY BEACH-err… DIMENSION! Letting loose with triumphant laughter, you hardly notice the other robot crawling over to his still-sparking partner:

"WOEFUL WAIL: HOW ARE WE TO PAMPER AND CARE FOR HER UNQUESTIONINGLY IF SHE'S DISSOLVED IN RECYCLING COMPOUNDS? DOES NOT COMPUUUUUTE!"

"DEFEATED SIGH: IF ONLY THE HUMAN HAD KNOWN OUR PRIMARY DIRECTIVE: UNDYING LOYALTY AND LOVE OF ALL HUMANS! THEN IT MIGHT NOT HAVE RESIGNED ITSELF TO A HORRIBLE, SLOW, AGONIZING DEATH!"

Wait, what?

Before you can inquire further, your cart and, by extension, you, plummet down the tunnel towards the aforementioned RECYCLING AREA!

>CONTD.

File: chempool.jpg (59 KB, 1280x720)

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>>5087051
Watching in horror as your ride zooms towards a lake of steaming salmon-colored liquid, you harness every ounce of HERO you have left in you and spring into action!

That action being ‘screaming uncontrollably’.

“Look at it dis’ way, kid:” Ly reasons as your rapid descent sends your heart, lungs, and liver up into your throat, “dat’ whole ‘Robot Servitude’ thing was probably too good ta’ be true anyways…”

Well what about THAT thing, you ask as you jab a shaky finger in the direction of the approaching disposal pool!

“Oh uh… I dunno. I’m just spitballin’ here. We really oughta avoid dat’.”

Okay, you hiss as a cocktail of chemical fumes wafts into your face and stings your eyes, nose, and mouth, does he have any suggestions as to how?!?

“Errr… Oh! What about dat’?!” Swiveling your head slightly to the left, your skeleton points your eyes towards a familiar-looking rip in the world around you–one that you might just be able to reach if you can turn this damn minecart!

“We weren’t really on dat’ assembly line, right?” Ly begins as an unbearable heat is added to the sensory buffet from before, “If we could just find a… THERE!”

Jerking your head around again, Ly points you in the direction of another one of those words stuck in between a few pipes lining the tunnel! As if sensing your approach, the letters form into the word…

>SWITCH!
>TENTACLE!
>BOOSTER!
>BOXING!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5087053
>>TENTACLE!

>>5087053
>TENTACLE!

>>5087058
>>5087082
>TENTACLE!
WRITING!

File: tentacle3.jpg (169 KB, 551x411)

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TESTICLE!

Wait, you might have read that wrong... Before you can give it another shot, a massive suckered appendage bursts forth from the word and immediately coils around your cart!

Oooh… a TENTACLE! That was your second guess!

“Sure it was.”

Before you can respond to Ly, your squishy savior yanks your ride away from the bubbling pit of chemicals and holds it aloft in the air! Hooray, you cheer, you’re SAVED!

… until it starts shaking your ride around. With you on it. Guess you’re doomed again. Holding on to the cart and your lunch for dear life, you grit your teeth as you spot the DIMENSIONAL CRACK lingering just out of your reach! If only you could get the cart over there somehow…

That’s when it hits you–all you need is the right timing! Forgoing your injured arm and using your teeth to cling to the cart, you use your healthy hand to retrieve your CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION from your pocket and aim it at the tentacle!

ROLL ME 1d100-10 TO TIME IT RIGHT! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>5087121

Rolled 82 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5087121

Gonna play some games with some pals for the rest of the night so I'll check in on this on THURSDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Might be able to write a small update before then, but no promises! Hope to see you then!

Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>5087121

>>5087123
>>5087139
>>5087303
>HIGHEST ROLL: 74!
Writing!

File: portal.jpg (195 KB, 1152x864)

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Gunpowder mixes with the acrid scent of chemicals as you pull the trigger sending a reverberating 'CRACK' across the factory! As your buckshot tears a healthy chunk of flesh from the tentacle, it writhes in disturbingly-silent agony before flinging you and your cart in the direction of the DIMENSIONAL TEAR! Suck on that, creep!

"That coulda' gone a LOT worse." Art's head remarks from under your FUR COAT. Yea, you scoff, he would know!

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sybil's head adds, prompting a panicked, albeit hushed conversation underneath your discarded clothes. Landing on a chunk of undigested metal, the cart resumes its creaky journey towards the rapidly-growing portal!

"ALARMED REALIZATION: SONIC DISTURBANCE IDENTIFIED AS A DISCHARGED FIREARM! THE HUMANS ARE LAUNCHING AN ASSAULT!" Howls a staccato synthesized voice from up the recycling chute!

"BETRAYED CONCLUSION: CLEARLY WE WERE WRONG TO WANT TO LOVE AND CARE FOR THEM UNCONDITIONALLY. HUMANS ARE TOO UNPREDICTABLE--PERHAPS THEIR DESTRUCTION IS THE ONLY WAY..."

You respond to the increasingly-distant conversation with a shrug--not your problem! Getting comfy next to your pile of heads, your ears are flooded with a rush of hushed words and a blinding light! Gritting your teeth in anticipation, you hope that wherever you're headed next has mandated time off!

Once the portal's glare subsides, you find yourself gazing into...
>A FROZEN EXPANSE DOTTED WITH TREES COVERED IN SHIMMERING LIGHTS AND TOWERING CANDY CANES JUTTING FROM THE SNOW!
>A MASSIVE KITCHEN WITH A SINK AS WIDE AS AN OLYMPIC POOL AND COUNTERS LONG ENOUGH TO LAND A PLANE ON... ARE THEY BIG, OR ARE YOU SMALL?
>A LAB OF SOME SORT PACKED TO THE BRIM WITH SLEEK, FUTURISTIC MACHINES– SOME KIND OF REACTOR?
>A CAMPGROUND ON A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT ILLUMINATED ONLY BY THE DIM LIGHT OF FLICKERING LANTERNS PEEKING FROM CABIN WINDOWS!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5088204
>A FROZEN EXPANSE DOTTED WITH TREES COVERED IN SHIMMERING LIGHTS AND TOWERING CANDY CANES JUTTING FROM THE SNOW!

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Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>5088204

>1= Merry Christmas
>2= To the lab!

On one hand, I wanna go with the lab. On the other, having Stan run amok in the (questverse? multiverse?) version of Santa's workshop and potentially ruin Christmas for a whole dimensions worth of people is way too tempting to pass up.

I'm letting the dice have this one.

>>5088231

Changing to Christmas setting for the sake of speeding things up.

If this is a questverse, judging by our luck so far, it'll probably have some sick twist. by the way I still have no clue what quests are being referenced so far since we started on this crazy train

Gonna keep things open until FRIDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST, folks--got home today and passed out after writing that last update and I'm still tired! Plus it'll give everyone more time to vote.

>>5088369
These are more or less all original save for one choice--to be totally honest there's only a few quests I think I could properly goof with, but if you guys want more current quest stuff then I'm onboard with it too!

>>5088204
>A FROZEN EXPANSE DOTTED WITH TREES COVERED IN SHIMMERING LIGHTS AND TOWERING CANDY CANES JUTTING FROM THE SNOW!

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>>5088204
>A FROZEN EXPANSE DOTTED WITH TREES COVERED IN SHIMMERING LIGHTS AND TOWERING CANDY CANES JUTTING FROM THE SNOW!

I could see Stan stealing alternate-dimensional Christmas presents and leaving the North Pole a wreck.

>>5088206
>>5088369
>>5088512
>>5089412
>HOW THE GREMLIN STOLE CHRISTMAS

Writing!

>>5089412
But anon, surely our plucky protagonist would never do that, would she?

Writing!

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An icy gale sends frigid pinpricks across your face as you and your cart emerge into a yawning white expanse dotted with alpine trees wrapped in glimmering lights and what appear to be... GIANT CANDY CANES?! Rubbing the daze from your eyes, a childlike glee rises in your chest and just barely overpowers the aches and pains still present in your body as you realize what you're looking at: SNOW! In California! Who'da thunk it!? Pointing a shaking finger at your surroundings, you can't help but grin as a few words escape your spellbound lips:

Ly, you stammer, are you SEEING this?!

Pinching yourself a few times to be sure, you let out a delighted giggle as your cart cuts a path past clusters of trees wrapped in a rainbow of festive lights and ornaments! Passing under a snow-covered candy cane, you lean over the edge of your ride and scoop some of the delicate powder into your mouth for a taste--yep, you grin as the gossamer ice melts in your mouth, that's the real deal!

"Don't lose yer' cool just yet, cupcake…" warns your skeleton as he starts to shiver from the wind chill, "remember where we just came from--dis' place could be even worse!"

Sticking your tongue out to catch some snowflakes, you wave away Ly's warning with a dismissive 'whatever'! Would it KILL him to show some enthusiasm? He knows where you are, right?

"To be honest, witcha’," Ly responds as you gleefully scoop some now onto your head collection, "No. No I don't. Lost track after we fell into a mineshaft."

Never MINE that and look around, you snap as Talbot's head spits some powder at your face, Christmas trees? Candy Canes?! SNOW?!? Clearly you're in SANTA'S NEIGHBORHOOD: CANADA!

"... Pretty sure da' North Pole don't got any giant candy canes, kid." Your skeleton replies in a VERY unfestive tone. "Or Canada, for dat' matter."

Cementics, you scoff as you pull your SEA CLOAK closer around you. Point is: if anyone can make your life better, it's THE CLAUS! All you have to do is track the big guy down and boom: this little BONES QUEST of yours is over! You might even get a few presents early this year for all that good behavior you've banked from the last few days!

"What good behavior?"

Shut up, Art's head!

>CONTD.

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>>5089438
Still taking in the sights straight out of a cheesy commercial, you feel your noble steed slow to a crawl, then stop completely! Kicking the side of the cart with your uninjured foot, a dissatisfied growl escapes your lips as your motivation efforts fail. Lying in a distressingly-stationary and increasingly-cold minecart while snow slowly buries you and your friend's heads, it slowly dawns on you why Santa makes his home in an uninhabitable frozen wasteland: Canada SUCKS!

"You got some paper handy?" Ly asks as you start to shiver. "Because some warmer clothes or a space heater would be real good additions to da' Christmas List right about now... While yer' at it would ya' mind addin' a WAY OUT or two?"

Cursing your rotten luck, you sit up in the cart and scan the horizon for any sign of shelter--elf-made or otherwise. Whether you want to get your vehicle moving again or not, you're gonna have to warm up a bit first! Thankfully the barren wasteland is, well, barren, for the most part, and you quickly come up with a few ideas based on your brief survey:

>LET'S CLIMB THAT CANDY CANE ON THE HILL--YOU SHOULD GET A GOOD VIEW OF THE WHOLE VALLEY FROM THERE!
>THERE'S SOME KIND OF CABIN NEXT TO A FROZEN POND TO THE EAST--MAYBE SOMEONE'S HOME?
>TRAIN TRACKS TO THE WEST! THEY EXTEND OVER A HILL, BUT MAYBE THEY'LL LEAD SOMEWHERE!
>THERE'S SOME KIND OF CAVE JUST DOWN THE WAY--MIGHT BE A GOOD PLACE TO SET UP CAMP!
>WRITE-IN!

Also,

>DO YOU TAKE ANY PARTY MEMBER HEADS WITH YOU?

>>5089439
>>TRAIN TRACKS TO THE WEST! THEY EXTEND OVER A HILL, BUT MAYBE THEY'LL LEAD SOMEWHERE!

Giddy up, folks. We're about to ruin interdimensional Christmas.

>>5089439
>>TRAIN TRACKS TO THE WEST! THEY EXTEND OVER A HILL, BUT MAYBE THEY'LL LEAD SOMEWHERE!

>TALBOT, ART, MITZI

>>5089441
>>5089454
>GO WEST, MY SON!

Writing!

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Taking their words into consideration, you signal the end of your thoughts with a decisive snap of your fingers! In that case, you declare, you’ll just take a few folks with you just in case! The rest can-

“Freeze to death?” Art asks, causing Kiki to slam angrily against the side of the cart. If he interrupts you again you’ll punt him like a-

“I don’t like it either, but this cart is clearly valuable.” Tucker retorts. “If we’re left here we can still watch over it while Stan’s gone.”

“Well I’M not staying!” Talbot declares as he gives the cart another headbutt! “If Stan’s meeting Santa then I’m going with!”

“Me too!” Mitzi exclaims with an uncharacteristic amount of enthusiasm! “Lazy bastard never got me anything on my list.”

“Now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind asking him for a few things either…” Art adds with a determined nod. “I’ve been asking for the Alchemical Beauty Rina X Collector’s Artbook for years now and I’ve never gotten it!”

Okay, OKAY, OKAY, you snap! If it’ll shut everyone up then you’ll take them along! Snatching up the three in question, you place Talbot’s head on top of your hat and let Art and Mitzi peek out from your pockets.

“Why can’t I sit in your pocket?” your bodyguard groans almost immediately. BECAUSE, you snap, earning a triumphant chuckle from Mitzi! Defeated for now, Talbot simmers down as you give the rest of the heads a lazy salute–if you don’t come back in an hour, uh…

Die, I guess.

“Come back soon!” Eddie chirps as you make your way towards the tracks.

>CONTD.

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>>5089570
Half-walking, half-stumbling towards your destination, you can’t help but wonder aloud where they lead to!

“His WORKSHOP, right?” Mitzi guesses, earning varying grunts of assent from Ly, Art, and Talbot. “That’s where the magic happens.”

“Speaking of magic,” Art’s head interjects, “are you gonna be okay, Stan? Your leg is, uh… not looking too hot.”

You wave his concern away with a scoff. Wrong, actually–your leg is always looking too hot! Driving the point home by licking your finger and pressing it against your hip with an appropriate ‘tssss’ noise, Mitzi’s subsequent ‘damn right’ helps you fight through the pain as you continue your trek!

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Talbot adds in a nonchalant tone. “Santa’s all about magic–if anyone can patch Stan up, it’s him.”

“I’m more worried about us wandering onto his property.” Art replies with a shiver in his voice. “People don’t live this far out to get visitors…”

“Yea, wouldn’t want anyone seeing their presents early, right?” Mitzi adds with a devious giggle. “Better not peek, Stan!”

As Mitzi’s innocent joke reaches your processor, it plants a sliver of an idea inside your head… one that quickly grows into a massive, yet gnarled and twisted plant. PRESENTS, you think aloud, Santa has them!

“Don’t go tryin’ anything stupid, cupcake–not when we’re in dis’ state!” Ly chides as you reach the tracks barely jutting out of the snow. It’s fine, you groan as you pick a direction and start hobbling, if you do a crime in CANADA and head back to the STATES it doesn’t count!

“No clue where that came from,” Art sighs, “but that’s not even remotely tru-”

Before the head can finish, the irregular beat of your feet dragging through the snow is drowned out by the steady chugging of a STEAM ENGINE approaching from behind you! Freezing up like a reindeer in the headlights, you quickly scan your surroundings for hiding places! There’s the SNOW, of course, but a few TREES border the tracks as well–though they offer less cover, it’s much better than burying yourself, right?

“Why don’t we just, y’know, ask the driver for help?” Mitzi asks in her typical nonchalant tone. “Not like we’re gonna break anything, right?”

Of course not, you growl! You’ve gotta be at the top of SANTA’S NICE LIST by now considering all the crap you have to deal with! Contemplating your options, the approaching sound spurs you into action:

>HIDE AND LET IT GO BY! (WHERE/HOW DO YOU HIDE?)
>HAVE A HEAD DISTRACT THE DRIVERS WHILE YOU SLIP ON! (WHO DISTRACTS?)
>STAND IN FRONT OF WHATEVER’S COMING AND ASK FOR HELP!
>BLOCK WHATEVER’S COMING WITH SNOW OR AN ITEM AND SNEAK ABOARD!
>YOU STILL HAVE A BANDANA AND A GUN–STEAL WHATEVER’S COMING!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5089572
>BLOCK WHATEVER’S COMING WITH SNOW OR AN ITEM AND SNEAK ABOARD!

That's all for tonight, all--should be ready SATURDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST, HOWEVER! Vote well--/qst/ Christmas may hang in the balance!

More importantly, STAN'S Christmas might hang in the balance too!

>>5089572
>>BLOCK WHATEVER’S COMING WITH SNOW OR AN ITEM AND SNEAK ABOARD!

>>5089572
>BLOCK WHATEVER’S COMING WITH SNOW OR AN ITEM AND SNEAK ABOARD!
If this is anything like a real train then this is probably a pointless idea, but I doubt that would dissuade Stan. Probably just use our zippo to light the wooden boat paddle on fire and drop it on the tracks, if we still have it. That ought to grab some attention.

>>5089572
>>5089581 +1

>>5089572
>STAND IN FRONT OF WHATEVER’S COMING AND ASK FOR HELP!

>>5089573
>>5089577
>>5089581
>>5089697
>KANSAS CITY SHUFFLE!

>>5089703
>BE SANE!

Looks like our favorite gremlin isn't going to buy a ticket... ROLL ME 1d100-5 TO LIGHT AN OAR ON FIRE AND SNEAK ABOARD WHATEVER'S COMING! I LESSENED THE PENALTY THANKS TO ANON'S OAR CREATIVITY!

I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS--WATCH YOURSELF NOW!

Rolled 11 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5090109

Rolled 15 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5090109

Rolled 68 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5090109

>>5090114
>>5090125
>>5090135
>HIGHEST ROLL: 63!

That'll do'er! Writing!

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Like one of those claw games at the arcade, inspiration takes hold of you and compels you to hastily retrieve the WOOD OAR you pilfered a few threads ago from your pocket and toss it on the tracks! Before the others can ask, you whip out your trusty LIGHTER and, with skill that would make any self-respecting arsonist proud, set the boat accessory ablaze! A warm, giddy feeling rises in your chest as you watch the wood crackle and hiss, and as the flames consume the oar you feel a smile form on your weary face. This… this feels good!

“Please tell me you’re talking about the warmth and not ‘burning things’...” Art mutters as both Talbot and Mitzi watch the glowing blaze with similar expressions.

“It’s… kinda pretty.” Mitzi remarks, earning a silent nod from you. It really is!

“Hate ta’ interrupt da’ bonfire, but was dere’ a PART 2 to dis’ plan, or?”

Heeding your skeleton’s words, you shake off your flame-induced daze and shuffle in the direction the steam engine’s coming from! Yes, you mutter, and it involves staying hidden, so ZIP IT!

“Hope they don’t notice the zombie-like footprints alongside the tracks.” Art remarks as you crouch down and start packing snow around your body! They won’t if he stops talking!

Submerging your entire body in fresh powder save for two eyeholes, it takes all of your willpower to stay still as the ice pricks your hastily-dressed wound and twisted leg. Isn’t this crap supposed to make injuries feel better?!

“Bruises and aches? Sure.” Mitzi whispers as a plume of steam approaches from down the tracks! “Not so sure about that leg though.”

“Best thing for it is to keep goin’.” Talbot adds in a nonchalant tone. “Can’t do anything way out here.”

DUH! Now quiet down, will ya? Something’s coming!

As if on cue, something does indeed come, prompting you to freeze in your hidey-hole! Figuratively, mind, not literally.

But you’re getting there!

“SHHH!” Hisses your skeleton!

>CONTD.

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>>5090342
Just when you lose sensation in your toes you see it come over the ridge–a massive, porcelain-molded face with an almost painful-looking grimace nestled in a bushy white beard! No doubt about it, you whisper to yourself–this is some SANTA SHIT!

“Language!” Ly scolds as he sends a spike of pain into your forehead! Ow!

Trailing behind it is an old-timey steam engine sporting a fresh green and red paint job hauling a series of massive carts carrying wood, stone, candy canes, and more! But that’s not what catches your attention...

“Holy CHRISTMAS, Tinsel! Hit da’ brakes!”

Manning the rig are two pointy-eared humans that barely reach your waist–one male, one female–each wearing gaudy outfits decked out with sleigh bells from the tip of their festive hats to the ends of their curled-tip shoes! Filling the air with the ringing of their accessories, the engineers rush over to the train’s brake and work in tandem to pull it backwards, stopping the train just inches in front of the now almost-completely burned oar! Wiping a few beads of sweat from his brow, the male elf peers at your handiwork and frowns.

“Well that ain’t somethin’ ya’ see every day…”

Hopping off the rig to get a closer look, the female elf approaches the burning obstruction and plants her hands on her hips in contemplation. While the male elf awaits her assessment, you take the opportunity to slink over to the cart carrying candy canes and climb in! SCORE! Munching on one of your fellow passengers, you watch the two elves like a window peeper as the one named ‘Tinsel’ finally turns around and shrugs!

“Whatever it is, it’s burned now!” She declares as she steps back onto the train! “Golly, Happy, what do you think coulda’ caused that?”

“A faulty light on one of the trees, I hope...” The older elf sighs as he massages his temples. “No use frettin’ over it now. We’ve got a schedule ta’ keep.”

Responding with an enthusiastic salute, Tinsel bounds along the walkway on the side of the train carriages towards your hiding spot! CRAP!

“I’ll give the goods a once-over and we’ll be outta here lickety-split!” She shouts as you dig deeper below the candy! Looks like you’re about to have company–the question is, what do!?

>STAY STILL! STAY SILENT! DON’T EVEN THINK!
>NOW’S YOUR CHANCE! DISPOSE OF HER WHEN SHE COMES OVER, THEN GET THE OTHER GUY! FREE TRAIN!
>REVEAL YOURSELF AND EXPLAIN THE SITUATION–THEY SEEM COOL ENOUGH!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5090347
>STAY STILL! STAY SILENT! DON’T EVEN THINK!

>>5090347
>STAY STILL! STAY SILENT! DON’T EVEN THINK!

>>5090347
>STAY STILL! STAY SILENT! DON’T EVEN THINK!
Elf vision is based on movement!

>>5090359
>>5090360
>>5090379
>FREEZE!

ROLL 1d100 TO HIDE IN 'CANE' SIGHT! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>5090413

Let's make our fakest cute smiles and pretend to be a RACOON DOLL™

Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>5090413

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>5090413
Nat1

>>5090419
>>5090425
>>5090433
>HIGHEST ROLL: 92!
WRITING!

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…

…

…

Frozen like a statue, you watch apprehensively as the elf appro-

SHHH!
“SHHH!”

Alright, sorry! Just trying to narrate here-

SSSHHH!!!

…


…

…


“Carts are clear, Hap!”

“Thank ya’, dear!”

Waiting a few more moments for the elf to return to the front of the train, you quietly poke Talbot’s head above your candy cane cover to get a feel for what’s going on. Well?

“Other way, genius.”

Shut uuuup! Correcting your honest mistake, you point the head in the other direction. Better?

“Yep… Looks like we’re shipping out.” The head reports in a hushed tone. Bringing him back below the surface, his hunch proves to be correct as you feel the train lurch to life beneath you! Scarfing down a fresh candy cane, you get as comfortable as you can in your minty, sticky hiding place and let out a weary sigh–talk about a wild ride, huh?

“Not much wilder than what we’ve been through already.” Mitzi replies from your pocket. “Mind hooking me up with a cane?”

Feeding the head a candy cane, you stretch out a bit, but quickly reconsider as a fresh wave of pain shoots through your injured leg! Damn it!

“Quit messing with it, dork–you wanna lose it?” Talbot asks in an irritated tone!

“Let’s hope wherever we’re headed has some sort of HEALING MAGIC…” Art adds with concern. “Who knows? Maybe there’s a present filled to the brim with BONE MARROW or something!”

That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard, you snap! Santa doesn’t deal in gross crap like that–he gives gizmos and toys to good girls and boys!

“... are you telling me that getting fixed up isn’t your greatest desire right now?” Asks Art’s head as he nibbles a nearby candy cane.

Well, you mutter, if you’re going to visit Santa then you might as well get what you want, right? Skeletons are everywhere nowadays, so it’s not like you’ll be going without marrow for long…

“In that case,” Talbot’s head interjects, “what DO you want from Santa?”
What don’t you want? Still, your bodyguard’s head asks a good question. If you had to choose, what would you ask the big man for?

>THE BACKUUM 9000–YOU’VE SEEN POSTS ON 4JAN THAT SAY IT CAN RIP PEOPLE’S HEADS OFF AT FULL POWER!
>A NEW COMPUTER–YOU’VE GOTTA UPGRADE A BIT IF YOU’RE GONNA PLAY BLOODSUCKING FREAKS 7!
>A TELESCOPING STRIPPER POLE–IT’S A GOOD WAY TO LOSE WEIGHT, DAMN IT! PLUS IT’S PORTABLE!
>VACATION TICKETS–YOU’RE GONNA NEED SOME R&R ONCE THIS CRAP IS OVER!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5090570
>>THE BACKUUM 9000–YOU’VE SEEN POSTS ON 4JAN THAT SAY IT CAN RIP PEOPLE’S HEADS OFF AT FULL POWER!

>>5090570
>A telescoping stripper pole...and some marrow

>>5090570

I'm still wondering if this is all still a very elaborate fever dream or what we're really seeing is happening. Only time will tell.

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>>5090592
I wonder...

>>5090570
>THE BACKUUM 9000–YOU’VE SEEN POSTS ON 4JAN THAT SAY IT CAN RIP PEOPLE’S HEADS OFF AT FULL POWER!

Going out for a bit--might be able to update this later this evening, otherwise I'll pick it up Sunday Morning! See you then and thank you for your patience!

>>5090570
>THE BACKUUM 9000–YOU’VE SEEN POSTS ON 4JAN THAT SAY IT CAN RIP PEOPLE’S HEADS OFF AT FULL POWER!

>>5090592
>Stan is currently just twitching and frothing at the mouth at the bottom of a collapsed mine, muttering about snow and candy and telling Art to shut up.

>>5090570
>OUR BROTHER BACK

>>5090570
>A telescoping stripper pole...and some marrow

>>5090581
>>5090612
>>5090694
>BACKUUM!

>>5090584
>>5091217
>STRIPPER POLE AN' MARROW!

>>5091008
>OUR BROTHER BACK!

Looks like the BACKUUM wins it! Writing!

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Well if you had to choose, you begin as the train trundles along towards whatever its destination is, you’d probably go with the BACKUUM 9000!

“... a cleaning product?” Mitzi asks, clearly not following. Bless her stupid heart!

“Not just ANY cleaning product!” Talbot interjects with a crazed, knowing look in his eyes! “A MONSTER of a cleaning product! Those things were almost federally banned like, three times!”

Right!? Before THE SHIT began, you used to see posts about the damage those things can do on 4JAN all the time!

“There was this one vid where that guy pulled his coworker’s arm off… that wasn’t even FULL-POWER!” Talbot laughs while the two non-Evening Sanitation Coordinators watch in confusion. Plebs!

“So more than anything you want a back-mounted OSHA nightmare.” Art remarks, earning an enthusiastic nod from you. “Not sure what I expected…”

That’s not even the half of it, you huff! You can set it to BLOW as well, so you can take, like, a deck table and LAUNCH it halfway to Wisconsin!

“Alright–that I’d pay to see.” grins Mitzi’s head as Art’s also nods in assent. As per usual, Stan wins at Christmas!

“Hold on a sec, though…” Talbot mutters as a look of realization forms on his dopey mug, “There are GIRLS on 4JAN?”

Gesturing to your HOT BOD, you give your bodyguard an annoyed look. GUILTY!

“Huh.” He grunts, still unconvinced, “Always wondered who was making all of those ‘Rate My Coveralls’ threads…”

You mainly stick to the mold discussions, but-

“Speaking of mold, does anyone smell that?”

Following Mitzi’s suggestion, you peek out from your hiding place just in time to get a whiff of an acrid mixture of smoke, chemicals, and peppermint. Guided by your nose, you quietly emerge from your hiding place and find yourself staring at a collection of massive smoke plumes emptying into the sky above a sprawling industrial center surrounded by cement walls thick enough to shrug off a missile and colossal smoke stacks with candy stripe paint jobs!

“There it is…” Art whispers in awe as you approach, “SANTA’S WORKSHOP!”

Tell us something we DON'T know!

>CONTD.

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>>5091427
https://youtu.be/GxJ4mVGtB1M
The smell of rampant industry grows stronger as your train rumbles down a hill towards the complex–enough so that the heads start to wince in pain!

“Eeeugh…” Mitzi groans as tears streak from her eyes, “Feels like breathing toothpaste...”

“You get used to it.” Talbot’s replies in a nonchalant tone. You’ve got your SEA CLOAK on, so you can barely feel a thing! Hurray for you!

The train engineers blare the whistle as the rig approaches, earning the attention of a few shapes patrolling the air above! Buzzing the train with red searchlights and jingling bells, you quickly identify them as flying reindeer! Muffling your excitement, you dip deeper into the candy canes as the air patrol breaks off towards the factory again. Approaching a large, central gate, the train slows down a bit as its two mammoth doors groan open revealing a checkpoint staffed by an army of tall, bearded soldiers with jaws big enough to crush boulders!

Silently watching the train roll through, the NUTCRACKERS brandish both wood-carved rifles and shiny cavalry sabers almost as tall as you! Just when you think you’re in the clear, a bespectacled elf emerges from a guard shack carrying an antiquated pocketwatch in one hand and a clipboard in the other!

“Well, well, well, you two sure took your time…” He mutters, clearly not as jolly as his coworkers.

“Bit of a holdup on the tracks, I’m afraid!” replies the elf you know as ‘Happy’ in a shaky voice! “I-it only took a minute though!”

The timely elf clears his throat impatiently before responding. “Three minutes, forty-two seconds, and eighteen milliseconds to be precise.”

“I-it’s my fault, Hopper! I wanted to check the cargo!” Adds Tinsel in an increasingly-panicked tone! “No need to blame any of it on Hap–it was my call!”

“Tin…” the older elf mutters in a cautionary voice.

“Let’s look at the facts, people:” Interjects the checkpoint elf, clearly unconvinced. “We’ve got deadlines to keep here and now production is delayed. I don’t have to remind you both what that means, do I?” The question is clearly rhetorical, but the elf still taps his bell-topped boot awaiting an answer. “DO I?”

“N-no…” The elves reply in dejected unison, prompting an annoyed sigh from the checkpoint elf as he glances at his watch.

“I’ll have to call it in. Get your cargo to BAY 33 and make it snappy. No use splitting hairs now…”

As the elf returns to his guardhouse, the train engineers get the rig moving again through a forest of crates, presents, and parcels. Huh, you mutter aloud, wonder what that was all about?

>CONTD.

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>>5091430
“Whatever it is, it don’t concern us!” Ly answers impatiently! “Let’s find somethin’ ta’ patch ourselves up an’ get outta’ here while we still can!”

All in due time, you hiss as you scan your surroundings. The train appears to be heading for a loading bay of some sort, but if that checkpoint was any indicator, there might be some more guards waiting for you there. An enterprising individual such as yourself could always disembark a little earlier…

“Where are we trying to go anyways?” Art’s head asks as you pass by a cluster of warehouses. “This feels counterproductive.”

Presents, you snap, are NEVER counterproductive! If you’re gonna be stuck in some janky WORD DIMENSION, you might as well get some gifts out of it! Now shush for a minute while you make a plan! If you had to get off, you muse to yourself, where would you head?

>THE LOADING BAY SEEMS FINE! MAYBE YOU CAN SEE WHERE THESE MATERIALS ARE HEADED!
>THAT FACTORY OVER THERE LOOKS PROMISING! THAT MUST BE WHERE THE GOODIES ARE MADE!
>YOU JUST SAW A SLEIGH LOADED WITH PRESENTS LEAVE THAT WAREHOUSE–COULD THAT BE WHERE THE GIFTS ARE KEPT?
>THAT TOWERING OFFICE BUILDING MUST BE WHERE SANTA IS–MAYBE YOU CAN SCHEDULE AN APPOINTMENT!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5091431
>>THAT FACTORY OVER THERE LOOKS PROMISING! THAT MUST BE WHERE THE GOODIES ARE MADE!

>inb4 we stumble upon an elf-sweatshop

>>5091427
Just so you know, I did read ll the board titles.

>>5091431
>YOU JUST SAW A SLEIGH LOADED WITH PRESENTS LEAVE THAT WAREHOUSE–COULD THAT BE WHERE THE GIFTS ARE KEPT?

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>>5091427

Oh shit I'm dying, I'm gonna die at this rate I'm laughing so hard. Changing to this for the sake of speed >>5091658

>>5091431
>YOU JUST SAW A SLEIGH LOADED WITH PRESENTS LEAVE THAT WAREHOUSE–COULD THAT BE WHERE THE GIFTS ARE KEPT?

>>5091658
You'd better have read 'em all!

>>5091658
>>5091675
>>5091676
>WAREHOUSE? THEREHOUSE!
Writing!

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Your answer comes in the form of ringing sleigh bells to the left of the train! Peering in the direction of the incessant racket, you barely manage to catch a sleigh full of gaudily-wrapped presents taking off from within a WAREHOUSE sitting past a few stacked storage containers!

… and NUTCRACKERS. And ELVES.

… let’s throw the DISTANCE in there too because all of this walking’s making your dogs BARK!

“Didn’t we just ride a train for ten minutes?” Mitzi asks with a bored yawn.

Yes, you snarl as you watch the sleigh take the goods to a towering OFFICE COMPLEX at the head of the factory, and now you’re gonna walk for, like, a million minutes! Before the others can protest, you scoop up your friend’s heads and hop over the side of the train compartment!

Gracefully landing on your face, you quietly gather up your pals and rise to your feet as the train chugs onwards to its final destination. Thanks for the ride, you guess!

“Remind me: why are we going to this warehouse again?” Art asks as you sidle up against a cargo container painted like a gingerbread cookie. “Assuming we do find something nice, we still won’t have a way out of here.”

Art, Art, Art, you sigh, will you ever learn? Jabbing a thumb in the direction the sleigh went, you raise a conspiratorial eyebrow in the head’s direction.

“Ohhh, I get it!” Talbot remarks as the realization hits him like a fly swatter! “We find a sleigh, load it up with loot, then get outta here!”

He might be dumb, loud, and really obnoxious, but at least Talbot gets you!

… n-not that it makes up for everything else, that is!

“What about the others, Stan?” Art chides, still not convinced. “If you think I’m leaving Syb behind-”

Art’s whining is thankfully cut off by you, Mitzi, and Talbot all simultaneously making whip-cracking sounds! Take a cold shower, man!

“For the record, dude,” Mitzi adds with a low chuckle, “girls don’t like clingy guys.”

“Yea, jeez!” Talbot scoffs! “Dial it back a bit, Hamilt!”

Art’s head looks ready to bite your fingers off. “... it was Romero, genius. Romero and Jilliette. And that still doesn’t answer my question!”

Relax, you reply with a wave of your hand, you’ll pick the others up once you grab a sleigh! He can even pick something out for her in the warehouse as long as it isn’t too creepy!

“Yea, no lingerie or anything weird, dork, or I’ll clock ya.” Mitzi adds with a solemn nod.

"Wait, lingerie is a weird gift?" Talbot asks, earning an annoyed groan from you and Mitz!

“Fine.” Art huffs. “Can we go now?”

Sure!
>CONTD.

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>>5091831
With the matter thoroughly settled, you get to work plotting your route to the WAREHOUSE. Taking a good look at it, you’d say the building’s about a football field away, give or take.

“Since when do you know about football?” Talbot asks from atop your hat. You just do, okay? Besides, you’re not ready to tell everyone about your MASCOT DAYS yet…

“Masc-wha?” Art asks, prompting you to zip it and zip it good! In any case, that length wouldn’t normally be a problem, but with all the grief your leg’s giving you, well…

“We gotta use our heads more.” Mitzi concludes. Ha! You get it!

“Well we’ve got plenty of jerks ahead of us.” Talbot reports, stating the painfully obvious. “Looks like those reindeer ain’t gonna leave us alone either.”

Following his gaze, the janitor’s prediction is confirmed by at least three reindeer patrolling overhead painting the ground red with their red nose searchlights!

“There’s a CATWALK leading to the second floor of the warehouse over there.” Art hisses as he nods at the passage in question. “Might be better than entering from the ground level.”

“And how do we get across with no one seeing us, genius?!” Talbot growls! “We’d be splitting ducks up there!”

“Not if we made a distraction…” Mitzi suggests in a devious tone! Sure enough, a length of ribbon trails across the ground near you to a few other containers–if you were to set it on fire, well…

“Den’ dey’d KNOW somethin’ was up!” Ly retorts. “Why not try a more… y’know, subtle approach?”

You do have that SNEAKY BOX in your INVENTORY… As you go to check it out, you notice something bolted down on the ground near you–some kind of HATCH!

“Huh.” Art remarks as he and the others notice it too, “That might work too. Or it might dump us into a toxic waste dump or something.”

“Can we just figure somethin’ out already?!” Talbot asks with increasing annoyance in his voice! “Those reindeer are gonna find us eventually and I don’t wanna get on the NAUGHTY LIST without stealin’ at least one present first!”

You’re not gonna get on the NAUGHTY LIST because you ain’t gonna get caught, you snap! Now shut it while you think up a solution here:

>BURN THE RIBBONS AND CROSS THE CATWALK!
>SNEAK TO THE WAREHOUSE USING YOUR SNEAKY BOX!
>POP OPEN THE HATCH AND GIVE THAT ROUTE A TRY!
>JUST SNEAK NORMALLY TO THE WAREHOUSE!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5091833
>SNEAK TO THE WAREHOUSE USING YOUR SNEAKY BOX!

>>5091833
>>SNEAK TO THE WAREHOUSE USING YOUR SNEAKY BOX!

>>5091834
>>5091841
>DON'T OPEN 'TIL X-MAS!

ROLL 1d100+5 THANKS TO BOX TECHNOLOGY TO SNEAK TO THE WAREHOUSE! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Rolled 15 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5091879

Rolled 60 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5091879

Gonna be busy for the rest of the evening, so I'll pick this up MONDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST! Hope to see you then!

Rolled 68 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5091879

>>5091880
>>5091882
>>5092157
>HIGHEST ROLL: 73!

That'll do'er! Writing!

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https://youtu.be/EJV8W2WYQKY
You give the stacks of cargo ahead of you one last scan before retrieving your SNEAKY BOX from your pocket! As you get to work unfolding it, Talbot wastes no time in tearing apart your idea.

“So we’re sneaking again? Come on, Stan–we can’t even light that ribbon on fire?!”

No, you snap, you CAN’T. After all, you add with a devious giggle, you don’t need a distraction if you DON’T GET SEEN!

“She’s got a point.” Art remarks as Mitzi nods in your pocket. Three against one, dick!

“Fine!” Talbot groans, gritting his teeth in irritation! “But I still think a distraction would be cool…”

He’s more than welcome to make one when you’re a head and he’s got a full body, you snap! Now zip it while you GHOST RUN this bad boy! Ducking under the cardboard box, you listen for any patrolling guards before creeping into the maze of containers!

Despite your bad leg and general lethargy, it’s not hard to avoid being detected–even without one of those cool minimaps like in most stealth games, you’re able to keep out of sight simply by listening for the disciplined rhythm of the nutcracker’s feet in the corridors around you.

Watching them from the shadows and around corners when able, you notice how they follow strict patrol routes and rarely stop, if at all, to breathe, look around, or spout any canned dialogue. What gives?

“You think they’re ROBOTS or something?” Talbot asks from between your hat and the top of the box. “If they were, like, NORMAL GUYS they’d be saying stuff, right?”

“Could be both, right?” Mitzi whispers as you duck around a storage container practically overflowing with coal. “What if underneath that wood stuff they’re just a bunch of freaky organs and metal?”

“They could be neither as well…” Art quietly remarks as you let an elf pass by with a nutcracker escort. “Can’t rule MAGIC out, can we?”

No, you sigh, you can’t... Whether the sentries are driven by cybernetics, magic, voodoo, or Christmas Spirit, none of them help the guards track you down as you scamper over to a service door on the side of the warehouse!

“Excellent, Stan!” Ly whispers with pride in his voice, “Age hasn’t slowed you down one bit!”

You’re not THAT old… Crouching lower to avoid detection, you cautiously test the door handle and frown as it refuses to budge–locked!
>CONTD.

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>>5092679
“What’s the hold up?” Talbot asks as you hear mechanical footsteps far too close to your position. “Time to cut to the chase: BONE CLAWS!”

Were it so simple, you reply in a rueful tone! Ever since you fell into that damn mine or whatever, your powers haven’t been working!

“So wait, if we get caught we might actually die?” Mitzi asks, concern winning out against her normal aloof tone. “Shit, Stan, if I had known that I would have, like, thought things through a little more!”

You’re thinking them through now, you hiss, hiding in the box as another NUTCRACKER passes by. Anyone see another way in?

“I think I saw some stairs leading to the SECOND FLOOR…” Art suggests as you peek through the box’s handle hole. “Should be less-crowded up there.”

“Let’s just climb to the ROOF!” Talbot adds in a much-louder-than-necessary voice! “Might as well if we’re going all the way up there!”

“Errr, what about that?” Mitz interjects as she points her eyelashes towards a KEYPAD next to the door. “Maybe we can crack the code somehow?”

Sure, you hiss, let’s just guess EVERY number until it works! Great plan, dork!

“Well yea,” the tomboy continues in a measured tone, “OR we could check nearby for a code. Or ask one of those elves, you know, politely.” Before you can tell her just how STUPID she's being, the Rent-A-Cop gives you a conspiratorial wink. Oh, you think aloud, she means getting VIOLENT.

“...Still like my idea the best.” Talbot pouts. You don’t like any of them, really, but you’ll have to do something…

>GUESS THE CODE!
>FIND AN ELF OR SOMETHING WITH THE CODE ON IT!
>HEAD TO THE SECOND FLOOR!
>TRY TO CLIMB TO THE ROOF!
>AREN’T THERE ANY FRIGGIN’ WINDOWS AROUND? LET’S JUST OPEN ONE OF THOSE!
>KNOCK ON THE DOOR AND SLIP IN! IT WORKED BACK AT GOOD BOY!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5092681
>>GUESS THE CODE!

1-2-2-5 :^)

>>5092681
>GUESS THE CODE!
Use our JANITOR VISION to see which keys have been dirtied by fingers to drastically reduce the number of possible combinations.

>>5092686
>>5092777
>GUESS THE CODE!
>1-2-2-5
>AND JANITOR VISION!

>>5092777
I know I never wrote this power down, but I fucking love it and we're totally gonna work it in somehow. Bless you, anon.

Writing!

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Staring at the keypad with growing anger, you ultimately decide to slam your fist against the wall in frustration! Damn it, you snarl, you’re a girl of ACTION! You don’t have time for all the crap they suggested! And your leg hurts–you don’t wanna climb!

“But…” Art mutters in a betrayed tone, “but we always do the ‘Give Stan Different Ideas to Choose From’ thing!”

“Always!” Mitzi adds with a well-timed sniffle! Snorting at their whining, you turn your attention back to the keypad. They can save their cockatiel tears for someone else!

“So what are we gonna do then, smarty-pants?” Talbot half-sneers, half-asks! “If it gets us killed I’m giving you a noogie in the afterlife!”

What are you going to DO, you fire back incredulously? Unbeknownst to them, you really didn’t think that far… CRAP! Just when you’re about to look dumb (well, dumber) in front of your friend’s heads, you see it: a series of faint smudges on the keypad! Bringing your nose closer, you take a quick whiff when you’re certain no sentries are lingering nearby. Yep, you hiss as you lick your lips, chocolate and peppermint!

“What’s she doing now?” Art asks as he tries to get a good look from your pocket!

“It’s a JANITOR THING,” Talbot replies as he watches with interest from atop your hat, “you wouldn’t get it!”

But you would, you retort in a triumphant tone! Following the greasy clues on the locking mechanism, your finger darts across the keyboard to plug in a series of numbers:

1-2-2-5! Voila!

Planting your hands on your hips, you give your pals a smug grin–easy as tha-
https://youtu.be/2dZy3cd9KFY
The deep, robotic voice emanating from the keypad tells you that it was indeed NOT easy as that. Sputtering in panic, you give the lock a pleading look as you hear footsteps approaching from within the cargo maze! How could this be!? You did everything right!

“Maybe try da’ keys dat’ have grime on ‘em?” Ly suggests. How the hell does that make sense, you growl! If people use the keys a bunch then there wouldn’t be any crap on them, right?

“Stan, you eat junk all da’ time: do your fingers get MORE sticky or LESS sticky when ya’ gorge yerself?”

They get MORE sticky, duh! That still doesn’t matt-

...oh.

Bashfully swallowing your follow-up insult, you take another look at the keypad as the sound of boots draws closer! The smudges seem to be biggest on the keys 6, 3, 9, and 5–what could possibly be the code, then?!

>9663–WOOD
>5653–JOKE
>6635–NOEL
>3665–FOOL
>3666–DOOM

>>5092857
>>6635–NOEL

>>5092857
>6635–NOEL

>>5092864
>>5092867
>NOEL
Yea okay I'm not even gonna wait for 30 minutes here. Writing!

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Knowing you’re in a do-or-die situation here, your brain kicks into overdrive to help you decipher the meaning behind the numbers–there’s usually a word associated with them, right? So which one could it be?

The answer comes almost immediately. Grinning with confidence, your finger once again darts across the keypad with renewed zeal! Tapping the keys 663 and 5, you bite your lip in earnest as you await the door’s response!

https://youtu.be/2dZy3cd9KFY

Wait, WHAT?!

“JUST. KIDDING. ACCESS. GRANTED.”Following a series of beeps and shifting latches, the door creaks open just in time for you to squeeze through! Shutting the door behind you, you allow yourself a stabilizing breath as you find yourself standing amidst a forest of storage shelves and a singular loading area/runway in the center. Even better, everything including the lights appear to be turned off!

“Good work back there, kid!” Ly laughs from within your skull! “’NOEL’, right? Didn’t think you’d remember dat’ one!”

You give your skeleton a confused frown. What the hell’s a ‘Noel’? You thought you typed in ‘OPEN’!

“... Well.” Ly mutters, unsure of how to respond, “What say we get da’ lay of da’ land, huh?”

Good idea! Retrieving your CELLPHONE from your pocket, you stealthily flick the flashlight back on and scan your surroundings.

A CONTROL ROOM of sorts lies above you atop a small flight of slush-caked metal stairs. Though you don’t see any lights or anything within, you’d be surprised if there wasn’t something useful up there.

Then there’s the LOADING DOCK. Two massive sets of hangar doors block anything from coming in or out, but that’s not what gets your attention! No, what gets you giddy is the TEN-FOOT TALL SNOWMAN standing limp next to some kind of generator! Even better, some kind of seat lies in a hollowed-out recess in the snowman’s abdomen!

“Is that…'' Art mutters, still trying to remain stealthy, “A MECH?”

Before you can answer him, your breath is taken away by something bigger, better, and far more spectacular than normal words can describe! Shining your light on the shelves, you and your friends stammer in awe as you look upon stacks of immaculately-wrapped presents piled all the way to the ceiling!

It’s… you utter between a bout of sniffles, it’s BEAUTIFUL!

“Y-you’re not…” Talbot mutters, barely containing his own sniffling, “Crying, a-are you!?”

N-no way, you snap! You’re just allergic… to CRYING MORONS NAMED TALBOT!

“Y-yea, well…” He fires back as a faint ‘holy shit...’ escapes Art’s lips, “I-I’m allergic to CRYING MORONS NAMED ‘STAN!’

“Ch-Christmas… came early...” Mitzi stammers in a shaky voice! She can say THAT again!

>CONTD.

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>>5092923
Drawn forward by childlike wonder, it takes you a moment to notice that most, if not all, of the warehouse floor is filled with fresh snow!

“How da’ heck did ‘dat get in here?” Ly muses as you wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth! “Da’ ceiling don’t open up, right?”

Yepsurewhateveryousay, you snap, staggering towards the nearest stack of presents like a zombie spotting some quality brains!

“STAN!” Your skeleton shouts, snapping you out of your trance for a brief moment, “One thing at a time, damn it!”

Fine, you mutter, but you get to choose what that thing is!

>CHECK THE CONTROL ROOM!
>INVESTIGATE THE LOADING DOCK!
>PLAY WITH THE SNOW A BIT!
>PRESENTSPRESENTSPRESENTSPRESENTS
>WRITE-IN!

>>5092926
>>PRESENTSPRESENTSPRESENTSPRESENTS

Wreak havoc or have our Stan card revoked.

>>5092926
>PRESENTSPRESENTSPRESENTSPRESENTS

>>5092926
>>PLAY WITH THE SNOW A BIT!
Something's funny about this stuff...

Let's make a snowman and put talbot's head on it! Maybe he'll come to life like Frosty.

>>5092961
changing to this

>>5092929
>'TIS THE SEASON!

>>5092961
>>5092964
>'SNOW' WAY YOU'RE PASSING THIS UP!

Writing!

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You take a few steadying breaths as you turn your attention away from the veritable ‘SHANGRI-LA’ of presents you’ve stumbled upon. Pace yourself, you whisper, if you open them all now your heart’s gonna pop like a zit–you wanna savor the moment!

“Think there might be somethin’ in da’ CONTROL ROOM?” asks your skeleton as you take a few idle steps deeper into the warehouse. “Some kinda ROOF BUTTON, or somethin’?”

You’re not sure, you mutter, but it is kinda weird for it to be in here, isn’t it? Kicking a few clumps around with your uninjured foot, you frown as the powder lands just as heavy as it was when you launched it. Shouldn’t this crap be melting in here?

“It is much warmer here than it is outside…” Art remarks as your scowl deepens.

“Maybe it’s MAGIC SNOW?” Mitzi suggests, causing a dirty lightbulb to flicker to life inside your head! That’s IT, you exclaim! Good ole’ Mitz and her sexy brain!

“D’aww, shucks…” The head stammers as it turns a few shades redder. “I mean… it’s possible, right?”

Only one way to find out, you reply! Stooping closer to the snow, you gingerly place Talbot’s head on the snow-caked floor and rub your gloved hands together with determination!

“Don’t even think of burying me, dork!” The janitor snarls as you shovel some snow into your hands! “Humans can easily bite through toe bones–I CHECKED!”

Then he can also check his ATTITUDE, you fire back, because you’re not gonna bury him! Forming a snowball in your hands, you place it back on the ground and start rolling it along the surface of the powder as your pals watch in earnest.

>CONTD.

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>>5093068
“Err, what’cha doin’ there, boss?” Mitzi asks from the safety of your pocket.

“Yea!” Talbot adds with building frustration! “My chin’s getting cold!”

What’s it look like you’re doing? You’re making a SNOWMAN! Rolling the snowball with renewed vigor, your annoyance builds as the ball struggles to get any bigger! Damn your Californian upbringing–-you’re flying blind here!

“Not sure why you need to put T’s head down to do that.” Art remarks as you let out a hushed string of swears. If he must know, you mutter under your breath, you’re trying to test if this snow is of the FROSTY variety or not!

“... You mean the snowman who came to life?” Art asks, earning a pleasant ‘mhm!’ from you! “Didn’t he need a [GREEN]MAGIC HAT[/green] or something?”

“Pretty sure it was CHRISTMAS SPIRIT…” Mitzi grunts as your snowball rolling intensifies!

“Well hurry up, will ya? I’m gonna get Hyperdermia if I sit here any longer!” Talbot whines. If he keeps bitching, you hiss, maybe you will bury him!

“Hey, wait a minute…” Art adds, eyes lit up in realization, “You’re… you’re not trying to give Talbot a body, are you? Stanley?”

Gritting your teeth at the smug mention of your name, you wave Art’s question away with your free hand! Y-you just need his POWERS, that’s all! The old Talbot could carry you around without being all w-weird about it, so… A-and you wouldn’t be able to get Mitz’ SICK BOD right, so it’s better this way! R-really!

None of your friends look convinced, least of all Talbot. “You heard her, Artie–Stan just can’t stand not havin’ the FULL SCHUMER PACKAGE arou-”

Golly, you muse to yourself as you hold Talbot face-down in the snow, why’d it get so quiet all of a sudden? Sending a pointed look in the direction of your pocket-borne pals, you lift your bodyguard’s face from the powder and give him one too–any other comments from the peanut gallery?

“Just one:” he replies between spitting snow out of his mouth, “You-”

Just when Talbot opens his mouth, something ELSE emerges from the snow: a flash of movement lined with razor-sharp teeth diving straight for your hand!

ROLL 1d100-5 TO NOT GIVE HIM A HAND! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! BONE-USES FOR CREATIVE WAYS TO DODGE, COUNTER, OR AVOID GETTING HURT!

Rolled 46 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5093070
our laser still works right???

>>5093097
It DOES!

Rolled 41 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5093070

Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>5093070
I have historically horrible rolls.

So I shouldn't be doing this.

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>>5093234
Not THIS time you don't! That's the ticket!

>>5093097
>>5093234
>HIGHEST ROLL: 89!

That should do it! A bit late on my end, though, so here's an idea: I have some business to attend to in the afternoon tomorrow, but I should be able to pop out an update or two TUESDAY AROUND 9-10AM PST! Once I'm back later in the day I'll be able to whip up some more updates.

In the meantime, here's two things for ya. First is a HOMEWORK ASSIGNMENT-- don't worry, it's easy!
>>5093097
mentioned using a laser, but I'd like folks to share some ideas on how to counter whatever we're dealing with if they have any. If you wanna use any specific skills, items, or weapons, pop 'em in the thread so I can put them into the update tomorrow!

Secondly, the ever-wonderful Siren_QM of the ever-wonderfuler MUTANT! QUEST whipped up a pic of Boris meeting an untimely end at the hands of John--the protagonist's brother in honor of the HUSBANDO GAMES. Hard to tell if Stan would be thrilled or pissed about missing the opportunity, but here it is regardless. Always love seeing art, and I don't just mean the Rent-A-Cop!

Long story short: update tomorrow morning and later in the day. Have a good one!

>>5093269
>ideas on how to counter whatever we're dealing with
Let it and Talbot's head have a bite-off. Talbot has no toes right now so he has an advantage.

>>5093269
Assuming we 're still wearing spiked goth boots, let's just kick the thing away from us. Not anywhere near the mouth though

>>5093068
>>5093070
We're rolling around in shit in the sewers aren't we

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Just before your mysterious attacker's jaws can close around your hand, a keening ‘CLANG’ rings through the air! Blinking in confusion, you peer downwards to find the open maw of some kind of ICE BEAR TRAP held in place between Talbot’s teeth!

“Ergh TRRD yrr,” He growls like a dog unwilling to part with a toy, “Ergh CHRKCKD!”

“That can not be good for your enamel…” Art mutters in disbelief. Nope, you nod, but this ain’t healthy either! Bringing your COWBOY BOOT back, you deliver a kick that could shatter a glacier into the trap’s pearly-whites and send it, and, by extension, Talbot, flying into a stack of presents sitting on a nearby shelf! Crap, you mutter as both the gifts and the trap tumble to the floor, those better not be fragile!

As your attacker regains its equilibrium from your attack, you spot a familiar head of red hair rolling back upright near the SNOWMAN MECH! Is he good?!

“Yep!” Talbot shouts as he shakes some more snow from his beaming face, “Let’s do that again!”

Hey, you’ll always take an opportunity to kick that guy! Before you can oblige him, though, the powder around you starts to shake!

“Stan!” Mitzi’s head shouts as you feel the snow tug at your heels, “Get off of the ice!”

Leaping for cover, you vacate your spot just as a cluster of ICE SPIKES burst from the powder! As you land in a heap on a wet, but thankfully snow-free floor, you whirl around just in time to see a massive frozen axe falling towards you like a guillotine! Holding Art and Mitzi close to your sides, you roll out of the way right before the wintery weapon hits the ground and explodes into countless frigid shards!

Covering your face from the resulting debris, the room fills with the sound of deep, rumbling laughter emanating from the LOADING AREA! Looking for the origin, you watch in shock as an icy gale blows through the warehouse and sends trails of fresh powder spiraling through the air! Dancing around like a polar vortex, the snow eventually forms a mountain that extends all the way to the ceiling!

>CONTD.

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>>5093617
Pieces of coal emerge from within the peak with a series of cartoony ‘pops’, giving the pile of snow a menacing grimace! At the same time, from the mountain’s sides come two burly appendages made of ice–one carrying a CORN COB PIPE, the other a BUTTON NOSE!

Plugging both in to its ‘face’, the colossal snowman takes a long drag from the pipe as the pièce de résistance lands on its head–an OLD TOP HAT Satisfied with its new look, the snowman sends another belly-full of laughter rumbling across the warehouse as it furrows its frozen brow in your direction!

“FOUND YOU!” He bellows in a thick Germanic accent! Mouth agape in surprise, you only manage to mumble a few shaky words:

FROSTY… THE SNOWMAN!

“H-he’s alive as he could be!” Art exclaims with a mixture of shock and horror!

“A-and the children say he could LAUGH and PLAY just the same as you… and ME!” Mitzi adds as she shivers in your pocket!
https://youtu.be/63vzq08mN-c
Puffing clouds of acrid smoke into the air, the snowman tears a chunk of ice from his abdomen and chucks it your way as the snow on the ground slowly spreads further! Ducking behind another shelf, you quickly reconsider as the giant hail ball crashes through it light a wrecking ball! As you stagger to avoid the rain of broken toys and gifts, a familiar scent tickles your nose, if only for a minute…

“MARROW!” Ly exclaims! “It’s around here somewhere! We gotta find it!”

Yea, you mutter as a volley of SERRATED ICICLES erupt from FROSTY’S body and fly your way, kinda busy here!

Half-dodging, half-tripping past the shivery spikes, your eyes lock with Talbot’s as his head stealthily climbs into the SNOWMAN MECH’S COCKPIT!

“Stan!” He shouts, barely registering over FROSTY’S manic laughter, “Toss the others over! We can help!”

Before you can respond, the murderous mountain slides across the powder between you and Talbot! Guess you’re not sneaking your way outta this one…

What’s the game plan here?
>LASER-BLAST FROSTY! IT’LL SLOW HIM DOWN, AT LEAST!
>SHOOT ONE OF HIS PARTS! (HAT, PIPE, NOSE, ARMS, COAL?)
>TRY TO CHUCK THE HEADS OVER TO TALBOT!
>HEAD FOR THE CONTROL ROOM! MAYBE YOU CAN USE SOMETHING THERE!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5093620
>TRY TO CHUCK THE HEADS OVER TO TALBOT!

>>5093620
>TRY TO CHUCK THE HEADS OVER TO TALBOT!

>>5093620
>>TRY TO CHUCK THE HEADS OVER TO TALBOT!

>>5093627
>>5093712
>>5093722
>GET A 'HEAD' START!

ROLL ME 1D100-5 TO CHUCK ART AND MITZI OVER TO THE MECH! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Rolled 78 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5093890

Rolled 80 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5093890