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>>5123554
Welcome to BONES QUEST--the gift that keeps on giving whether you want it or not! Make sure to check out the following resources:

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

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

Imgur Page for quest and FAN ART! You make it, we display it!
>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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https://youtu.be/YftKjT9Lmn0
You take a few steps away from Sybil’s kneeling form as the hungover Goth continues to empty the contents of her stomach onto the sand beneath you. Reaching to hold her hair back from her face, your friendly gesture is soundly thwarted by the report of a high-caliber gun approaching from down the way!

“Well now,” Marshal Burton remarks as he inspects the carnage from down the sights of his REPEATER RIFLE, “Reckon yer’ pals ain’t defenseless, at least…”

He’s not wrong! Bouncing along the dirt road comes a big rig truck trimmed to the nines with all the modifications a SKELETON GREASER could ask for: barbed wire along the sides, a turbocharger poking out of the front, and, most importantly, a MACHINE GUN TURRET welded to some scrap metal fortifications on top of the trailer! A skeleton crew of, well, skeletons mans the top gun: one firing wildly into the sandstorm trailing behind them, two others backing him up with KALENCHIKOV-48 RIFLES.

In any other situation you’d say HAULIE-PAULIE had the advantage, but that prediction is flushed down the toilet when two pursuers emerge from the dust–ones that look far too familiar for your comfort!

“Wait a minute…” Talbot mutters as he peers towards the approaching vehicles, “Aren’t those GOOD BOY logos on the sides?”

Indeed they are–a pair of APCS WITH MOUNTED MACHINE GUNS bearing your company’s logo descend upon the truck like hyenas hunting a gazelle, leading the way for two more identical machines behind them! Swerving to dodge the brunt of the truck’s gunfire, the APCs return fire of their own with the hardware mounted on top!

“Now there’s somethin’...” Gramps remarks as he keeps a bead on the pursuers, “those guns of theirs are movin’ on their own!”

The old bag of bones is right:whether it’s through sorcery or tech, the pursuing APCs have no one on their exteriors–how the heck are Paulie and the boys supposed to put them out of commission?

“More importantly,” Ly remarks in a worried tone, “Are there GOOD BOY SECURITY goons in dose’ trucks?”

Whoever they are, they’re trying to turn your favorite salesman into Swiss Cheese, and they just might do that if you don’t do something NOW! But WHAT?!

>PILE INTO THE VAN–YOU’RE JOINING THE CHASE!
>GET PAULIE TO PULL INTO THE VISITOR’S CENTER–YOU’LL HOLD OUT HERE!
>FLAG THE APCS DOWN–YOU CAN DIPLOMANCE THIS!
>ATTACK THEM FROM AFAR–YOU’VE GOT THE HARDWARE!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5123569
>>GET PAULIE TO PULL INTO THE VISITOR’S CENTER–YOU’LL HOLD OUT HERE!
>>FLAG THE APCS DOWN–YOU CAN DIPLOMANCE THIS!

>>5123569
>GET PAULIE TO PULL INTO THE VISITOR’S CENTER–YOU’LL HOLD OUT HERE!
>FLAG THE APCS DOWN–YOU CAN DIPLOMANCE THIS!

>>5123573
>>5123569 +1

>>5123573
>>5123579
>>5123590
>PULL OVER AND WE'LL TALK THIS OUT!
Writing!

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Before anyone can react, you scamper off in the direction of the approaching vehicles waving your arms in the air like one of those car dealership decorations!

“Stan…” Ly murmurs as the convoy approaches you well above the speed limit, “what da’ hell are you doin’?”

You can’t deal with this crap if they’re driving around, you explain over the sound of your friends shouting behind you! You’re gonna get everyone to pull over!

“Aw cripes, I knew today was gonna be crummy…” Your skeleton groans as the big rig drifts along the dirt path leading up to the VISITOR’S CENTER! Leaning on the horn, the driver shouts something at you, but the roaring engines drown it out! Frantically gesturing towards the parking lot like an overworked traffic controller, you abandon your post when the skeleton’s truck follows your directions and skids onto the asphalt!

The scent of gas, gunsmoke, and scorched rubber fills the air as the truck and its trailer whip across the parking lot, knocking the few remaining derelict cars around like bowling pins! With an ear-piercing shriek, the big rig skids for a good five seconds before coming to a screeching halt near the back of the lot!

“What the hell, Stan?!” Asks Talbot as he carries Sybil over in the crook of his arm! Before you can answer, the truck’s pursuers follow suit and tear onto the road leading up to the parking lot as well! While The Marshal, Talbot, and, by extension, Syb duck behind a nearby overturned sedan, you stand with your arms raised in front of the approaching APC CONVOY!

“... Errr, they ain’t stoppin’, cupcake…”

You hate to say it, but Ly’s right…

“M-maybe they don’t see us?” Asks your skeleton in an increasingly-shaky voice. You’re standing in a parking lot in the middle of the desert and wearing a friggin’ TRAPPER’S FUR COAT– if they can’t see you then they shouldn’t be driving!

… also you really oughta change clothes–it’s bad enough that you wore this to the party last night, but now it’s the middle of the day and it’s TOAST-

“GET THE HELL OUTTA THE WAY!” Roars Pops as he aims his gun at the approaching vehicles! Whoops, right–back to reality!

What’s the play here? Do they not know who you are?
>STAN YOUR GROUND! THEY’VE GOTTA KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
>SCREW IT–LIGHT ‘EM UP WITH SOMETHING NASTY (LASER EYE? ROCKET LAUNCHER? SOMETHING ELSE?)
>GET TO COVER AND HAVE LY INVESTIGATE–HE CAN GO THROUGH WALLS, RIGHT?
>WRITE-IN!

Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>5123631
>>STAN YOUR GROUND! THEY’VE GOTTA KNOW WHO YOU ARE!

dice test

>>5123631
>STAN YOUR GROUND! THEY’VE GOTTA KNOW WHO YOU ARE!

>>5123631
>>STAN YOUR GROUND! THEY’VE GOTTA KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
Thank god we have that reinforced ribcage

>>5123634
>>5123641
>>5123657
>STOP, YOU MORONS!

Here goes SOMEthing! ROLL 1d100 TO STOP THE DAMN CARS! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! Feel free to include any specific phrases or tactics you use too--they can only help out!

Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>5123670
Fire our shotgun in the air and do a little hoedown dance.

Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>5123670
Just stand there but make sure to armor up if they get too close.

We've BAAAAASICALLY passed this, but I'm still waiting on one last roll--feel free to reroll now!

Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>5123670

>>5123679
>>5123686
>>5123732
>HIGHEST ROLL: 94!
Well sheesh, that oughta' do 'er! Writing!

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Planting your booted feet firmly on the hot asphalt, you stand like a statue and shake your head–no, you growl, you WON’T! Flicking the ‘switch’ that activates your BONE ARMOR, you stare daggers at the approaching APC and wait. You’re a pedestrian, after all–you’ve got RIGHT OF WAY!

The folks in the convoy don’t seem to care, however–powering up the hill to the parking lot, the military vehicles hardly react as thick, bony plates form over your clothes! Fighting to ignore the sweltering heat inside your armor, you stand firm as the leader of the proverbial ‘pack’ bursts into the parking lot and into a collision course with you!

You can almost feel the heat from the APC against your face when the leader SWERVES to avoid you! Wildly firing its machine gun, its shots and the vehicle itself go wide as the driver struggles to regain control! When the war machine crashes into a parked van, however, it’s clear that isn’t gonna happen. In a vain attempt to correct itself, the APC skids along the pavement sending black smoke and an acrid smell across the lot! Lifting off the ground from four wheels to two, the vehicle finally gives up and tumbles a few times across the pavement before coming to a rest next to the fence.

“Well,” Ly remarks as the APC slowly catches on fire, “guess they weren’t in a talkin’ mood…”

Yea, you mutter, and neither are THEY! You scarcely have time to duck behind cover before the three remaining APCS tear into the parking lot with their machine gun turrets! Circling the parking lot, the lead vehicle resumes taking shots at PAULIE’S TRUCK while the others focus on lighting YOU up! Hunkering down behind a pickup truck close to Talbot, Syb, and Gramps, you allow yourself a few quick breaths–you’ve got at least a few seconds before they rip this car apart, right?

Your answer comes in the form of a hail of bullets tearing your cover in half.

“Yep.” Replies your skeleton.

You’ve got some options here, but diplomacy doesn’t seem like one of them. What’s the plan?
>BLAST AN APC! (LASER EYE? ROCKET LAUNCHER? OTHER ITEM?)
>HAVE LY TRY TO POSSESS SOMEONE!
>TRY TO HOP ONTO AN APC AND PRY IT OPEN!
>RUSH OVER TO PAULIE’S TRUCK!
>TRY TO GET THE REST OF THE GANG’S ATTENTION!
>WRITE-IN!

Meanwhile, what do your PALS do? The others will support!
>TALBOT CHUCKS SOMETHING AT ‘EM! (WHAT?)
>SYB TRIES A SPELL, HANGOVER BE DAMNED! (WHICH SPELL?)
>GRAMPS DOES SOME FANCY SHARPSHOOTIN’ ON A SMALL TARGET! (VIEWPORTS? WHEELS? SOMETHING ELSE?)
>WRITE-IN!

>>5123771
>>HAVE LY TRY TO POSSESS SOMEONE!
>>TRY TO HOP ONTO AN APC AND PRY IT OPEN!

Tag team like bosses!

>TALBOT CHUCKS SOMETHING AT ‘EM! (WHAT?)
>GRAMPS DOES SOME FANCY SHARPSHOOTIN’ ON A SMALL TARGET!

Make Talbot derail the cars with Goodboynium tentacles and have the Marshall destroy the wheels.

>>5123776
+1ing this

>>5123776
>>5123778
>LITERALLY FUCKING EVERYTHING

Alrighty then, let's do it... Here's what I need: careful, it's a tall order!

ROLL 4d100--ONE FOR EACH ACTION! POP'S SHARPSHOOTING WILL TAKE A -10 PENALTY, HOWEVER DUE TO TRICKY AIMING!

I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Rolled 41, 84, 48, 49 = 222 (4d100)

>>5123813

Rolled 62, 23, 91, 70 = 246 (4d100)

>>5123813

Rolled 74, 31, 99, 80 = 284 (4d100)

>>5123813

>>5123814
>>5123831
>>5123872
>HIGHEST ROLLS:
>LY: 74!
>STAN: 84!
>TALBOT: 91!
>GRAMPS/POPS/GAM-GAM/BURTON/THE MARSHAL: 70 (subtracting 10 due to moving target)!

Good bit of rolling, you friggin' maniacs. Guess I oughta start writing!

>>5123882
those aren't the right rolls though

>>5123930
>>5123882

Yeah Talbot got a 99, but whatever. We still win.

>>5123930
>>5123935
Whoops, I'm a friggin' idiot. UPDATING!

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Scooting behind what remains of your cover, you snap your fingers a few times to get your layabout skeleton’s attention while Gramps circles around to the other side of his cover.

“Way ahead of ya, cupcake.” Your skeleton replies as he pops out of your body and into his ASTRAL FORM, “Always wanted ta’ drive one of dose’...”

Leaving you with a devious cackle, Ly soars towards the nearest APC and phases through its front! Before you can watch the fireworks, however, another burst of machine gun fire bisects your already-bisected piece of car cover! You were using that, prick!

As you sprint towards a fresh vehicle, you feel a salvo of white-hot bullets rip through the air behind you and graze your armor by mere centimeters! Just when you feel the shooter catch up with you, a series of shots rings out across the lot from where you just came from! Chancing a look towards your attackers, you watch in awe as Pops lets loose on the wheels of the APC closest to them–puncturing holes in the thick tires with a series of rapid precision shots!

As the military vehicle’s tires pop in quick succession, its partners swerve out of the way as the APC sends sparks flying across the lot before LAUNCHING into the air like some kind of video game glitch! Following it up and back down again with your eyes, you just barely manage to notice a pair of thin, metallic tentacles stretched across the ground, both originating from Talbot wearing a look of utter glee on his dumb face!

With two APCs down and slowly burning, you turn your attention to the remaining two–one of which is already swerving to resist Ly’s takeover. Guess that means you get the other! Darting towards your target, you deftly sidestep the APC’s gunfire and leap over the other as it whips around the parking lot! Landing with a dull ‘thud’ next to the turret that took potshots at you, you immediately get to work tearing open the hatch leading inside!

Unfortunately whoever’s in there is smarter than you thought–though you tug, twist, and chip away using your BONE CLAWS, the entrance refuses to open! Talk about a fire hazard! Sensing your intent, the driver inside tries to shake you off, but it ain’t happening!

Just when you’re about to blast the top open with a point-blank ROCKET-PROPELLED GRENADE, you hear the whirr of the turret from behind you! Reaching back with a claw, you cleanly cleave the gun from its tripod, causing it to unceremoniously tumble to the pavement below!

Noticing your handiwork, Talbot peeks out from behind his cover! “THAT’S NOT THE DRIVER, DORK!”

You KNOW/i] that, moron!

>CONTD.

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>>5123977
While Ly’s APC crashes at full-speed into the first vehicle you indirectly totaled, you feel the one you’re on SPEED UP! Clinging to any handhold you can find, you hang on for dear life as the last remaining APC makes a break for the parking lot exit!

“STAAAAN!” Talbot shouts, still not far away enough to warrant it, “DON’T LET ‘EM RUN AWAAAAAY!”

You weren’t planning on it, drama queen! Digging your claws into the vehicle’s armor, your mind races for a way to stop this crazy thing!

>CLAW THE TIRES!
>JUMP OFF AND BLAST IT! (LASER EYE? ROCKET LAUNCHER? OTHER ITEM?)
>JUST LET IT GO–WHO CARES? YOU BEAT IT!
>SHOUT A FEW MORE TIMES AT THE HATCH! MAYBE HIT IT, TOO!
>ONE OF YOUR PALS DOES IT FOR YOU! (GRAMPS? SYB? TALBOT? PAULIE? SOMEONE ELSE?)
>WRITE-IN!

>>5123979
>CLAW THE TIRES!

>>5123979
>>CLAW THE TIRES!

>>5123979
>CLAW THE TIRES!

>>5123982
>>5123983
>>5124005
>CUT TO THE CHASE!

Simple, but effective! ROLL ME 1d100+5 TO CARVE 'EM UP--I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Rolled 89 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5124006

Rolled 69 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5124006

Feel free to roll again if you've already rolled once--you've basically made it!

Rolled 79 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5124006

>>5124008
>>5124009
>>5124039
>HIGHEST ROLL: 93!

Writing!

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The wind whips past your armored head as the driver puts the pedal to the metal–seems like they’re REAL eager to hit the road again!

“And dey’ve only just arrived!” Ly rcroons as you pull yourself closer to the edge of the vehicle! Gritting your teeth, you spot the APC’s wheels spinning through the dirt below you and feel a rush of inspiration–one that makes you clamber closer to the side! When you’re certain you’ve got a good grip, you take your BONE CLAWS and rake them through the line of wheels with a satisfying trio of ‘POP’S!

Skidding out of control, the driver fights to avoid swerving, but it’s too late–one bump against an ill-placed boulder in the ground sends the whole thing careening towards what appears to be the ghost town remains of some kind of-

“FRUIIIIT CAAAAAAARRRT!”

Heeding Ly’s warning, you leap off your ride just as it crashes through the wooden debris! Tumbling like a barrel through the air, the APC makes its final stop amidst a patch of nasty-lookin’ agave plants!

“Well,” Ly remarks as thick plumes of smoke rise from the truck, “Dat’s one way ta’ start da’ day-”

Before he can finish, the hatch falls open revealing a shirtless man save for some hockey padding wearing a GOOD BOY SECURITY GOON MASK AND HELMET COMBO!

“Euugh…” He mutters as he draws his sidearm on you, “Da’ hell you doin’, freak!? You a SKELE-FUCKER or somethin’?!”

Before you can answer, a shot rings out across the desert! Freezing like an ice cube, the driver’s tough exterior quickly melts into a trembling mess as his weapon goes tumbling into the cacti!

“Wouldja’ lookit that…” groans a calm voice approaching from behind you, “I missed!”

You see his hair long before you see the rest of him–pointing towards the looter like the butt of a gun, the skeleton’s pompadour glistens in the morning sun as its owner drags a gold comb through its length!

“Stanley Parble–guess I just saved your life, kitten!” The greaser gives you a wink as he gives you a chummy slap on the back! “Don’t worry, kid–it’s on da’ house!”

Haulie-Paulie, you mutter as a wry grin forms on your face, we meet again!

>CONTD.

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>>5124195
https://youtu.be/JenMS9t4byE
“Now don’t take dis’ the wrong way, sis,” Paulie remarks as Talbot and Tucker drop the final unconscious looter in the pile next to his truck, “but I kinda miss da’ ole’ days where us boneheads were the only ones roamin’ the roads!”

Giving the disarmed looter’s gagged and still-squirming form a dirty look, you turn to Paulie and shrug–you don’t really agree, but you get what he’s saying!

“You’d think the roads would be safe after all our hard work…” Art remarks as Syb buries her face in Art’s shoulder. “Well… safer...”

“And you’d think you Rent-A-Cop types would be able ta’ hold on to your wheels!” Replies the greaser as the three gunners inspect the merch in the back of the truck. “A day or so ago these chumps were only packin’ peashooters an’ bricks on wheels, but now they’re findin’ abandoned goodies all over town like Easter Eggs or somethin’!” Giving the pile of looters a scowl of his own, the greaser calms himself by running his comb through his hair once more. “Ah well, whaddaya’ gonna do, huh?”

“Errr, staying off the roads for a bit would be the smart thing to do…” Tucker suggests with a sheepish look on his face.

“HA! And miss out on all my sales? Good thing I’m a dumbass, huh kid?” Nudging Tucker in the ribs, Paulie motions for you to follow him. “Speakin’ of dumbasses, got a little surprise for ya’, sis–hope it didn’t get too banged-up in da’ ride…”

You meet Paulie’s grin with a stony face. If he’s giving you back that damn MOPED you foisted onto him-

“Not unless you want it, sis–da’ customer is always right!” Taking position by the passenger’s seat of the truck, the skeleton raps his knuckles on the door a few times!

“I give to you, my dear, for a limited time only: THE MISSING LINK! Make sure ta’ use small words around him, kid–his head’s got a lotta’ empty space in it, dig?”

Before Paulie can get another word in, a sneakered foot kicks the door open revealing a skeleton greaser wearing a striped shirt you’d recognize anywhere!

“Cripes, Stan–you coulda’ let those maniacs put a few holes in this guy, ya know…”

Dropping to the dirt with a cocky grin on his bony face, STRIPES holds his arms out to give you a hug. “Get in here, sis–it’s rude ta’ keep a guy hangin’!”

And ‘get over there’ you do! Wrapping both Paulie and Stripes in a bear hug, the pains of the morning are swiftly replaced with childlike glee!

“Jeez, Stan, you keep clingin’ to me like this an’ you’ll make those other guys jealous!”

You respond by flipping the one-finger salute behind you. You know what? You don’t care!

“Wow, alright.” Talbot grunts. “Rude, much?”

>CONTD.

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>>5124196
“Wyatt says ‘hiya’ of course.” Stripes explains as Paulie confers with the newly-arrived LOUIE THE BARBER. “The big lug woulda’ come along, but he had ta’ replace a whiny belt right when we were about ta’ head out–his words, dig?”

Yea, you giggle, you dig! Watching your pals help load the barber’s supplies into Paulie’s truck, you raise an eyebrow back towards Stripes–how’s he doing?

“You kiddin’? Havin’ the time of my death, sis!” He replies with a grin! “All I do all day is work on cars, make sure things are runnin’ smoothly around da’ DRIVE-IN, an’ pal around wit’ the other boneheads!” Sending a friendly wave towards your Pop-Pop, Stripes leans in and whispers in your ear: “between you an’ me? These old guys got da’ best stories! I was shootin’ the shit with one of those buccaneers you sent us the other night an’ he told me all about this one girl who-”

The skeleton pauses mid-sentence as a realization spreads across his face. “You uh… you know what? That’s uh… that’s more of a guy story.”

But you wanna HEAR iiiiit, you whine! When Stripes holds firm, you stomp your foot a few times. No dice.

“Anyways, things are good, sis–real good. An’ they’ll be even better when we help you kick that TIM guy’s bony butt outta’ that tower of his!”

Damn right, you grin, just like old times, right?

“Well sure,” Stripes replies with a cheeky grin, “Minus Cliff pretendin’ ta’ be someone else an’ makin’ it look like we’re about ta’ sell ya’ out, of course!”

Shaking the barber’s hand, Paulie lights a fresh cigarette and leans against his truck.

“Heard that’s the last of the PARTY GOODS.” Stripes remarks with a nod of his head. “Atta’ girl, Stan–might wanna start drinkin’ water now, cuz’ you’re gonna get a LOTTA free drinks once we’re all set up!”

You’d better, you retort! So did he just come along to see you, or?

“Well I’m supposed ta’ help Paulie run the shop,” Stripes explains, lighting a cigarette of his own, “Buuut he looks like he’s got it under control.” Taking a long, thoughtful puff, the greaser gives you a serious look. “Cliff asked me ta’ come too–wanted me ta’ give you a message.”

You blink–what’s he talking about? The skeleton leans in close again, close enough to be sure that no one else can hear.

“He says to watch out for your employers… and everyone else workin’ for ‘em.” Leaning back to give Mitzi a wave as her tired eyes watch you both, the greaser ends the message with a shrug. “Nothin’ you didn’t already know, of course, but still.” Placing his smoke back in his mouth, Stripes gives you a fresh smile.

“Good ta’ see ya, kid–go talk to da’ others if ya’ want. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Good idea!

>CONTD.

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>>5124198
While the others continue to load up the truck, what do you do FIRST? You probably have time for THREE THINGS, TOPS!

>SHOP WITH HAULIE-PAULIE!
>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE!
>CHECK IN WITH ONE OF YOUR PALS (WHO?)
>CHAT WITH LOUIE THE BARBER!
>INTERROGATE THE LOOTER!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5124201
That's all for tonight, folks--got MAD TIRED all of a sudden! Should have more MONDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST, but I'll let you know if plans change! Thanks for playing and hope to see you next time!

>>5124201
>>SHOP WITH HAULIE-PAULIE!

>>5124203
>>5124201

Wait. Let's interrogate the looter too. Maybe we can squeeze some extra pongos out of him.

>>5124206
Now you're thinking materialistically, anon. +1


Let's not forget Talbot owes us the full truth of what he remembers from being Mr. X, whenever we find a moment out of earshot.

>>5124206
+1ing this.

>>5124201
>>INTERROGATE THE LOOTER!
First
>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE!
I like the dude, the greasers have been my boys since thread two when we called that dice roll.

>SHOP WITH HAULIE-PAULIE!

We've been hoarding pongos like a dragon obsessed with the latest 90s, it might be time to power up via capitalism

>>5124201
>SHOP WITH HAULIE-PAULIE!
>INTERROGATE THE LOOTER!

>>5124206
>>5124207
>>5124215
>>5124237
>>5124413
>INTERROGATE: 5
>SHOP: 5
>STRIPES: 1

I think this is the order we'll follow. Since a few of these will no doubt have some branching options, just keep in mind the order we discussed--we'll get to 'em!

>>5124207
Talbot DOES owe you the truth--don't let that snake weasel outta' it...

Writing!

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You give Stripes a smile as you begin walking towards the PILE O’ PRISONERS near the back of the truck. You’ll get back to him once you’ve uh… introduced yourself to your new pal!

“You call yer’ pal Stripes if he gives you lip, dig?”

You’ll definitely think about it! Waving the skeleton away, you firmly plant your feet in front of the sole conscious LOOTER lying bound and gagged on a pile of his snoozing pals. Guess everyone had their seatbelts on, huh?

“You wanna have a little chit-chat, doll?” Asks one of the two armed skelegreasers guarding the pile. “Head’s up– he’s a bit of a wet rag, dig?”

Yea, you sigh, you’ve got a lot of experience dealing with jerks. Exchanging shrugs, the sentries wordlessly remove the gag from the looter’s mask filter, prompting a series of pained coughs from the prisoner!

“Acck! Ptth… Fuckin’ idiots! You know how hard it is to breathe through this goddamn gimp mask!?” Turning his rage-filled eye lenses your way, the looter greets you with a bestial growl!

“Oh look, BONE-BLOWER’S back! Hey, you let me go right now and fight me like a human–I’ll show you how that shoulda played out, you cheatin’ motherfucker…”

Man, this guy is all-smiles, huh? Tapping your foot on the dirt impatiently, you decide to start slow–what’s his name?

“Go.”

You blink in surprise–what kind of weird-ass name is-

“Go FUCK Yerself!”

Ah. Must be foreign. Alright, you continue with a crack of your neck, here’s how it’s gonna go-

“Sorry, bitch, I don’t speak CHINCHILLA or whatever the fuck you are!” The looter spits through his mask! “Let me go or get your boyfriends to put a bullet in my head already–I got shit ta’ do!”

“Real charmer, dis’ one.” Ly remarks as the captive tries to kick sand at you! Yea, you agree, thoughtfully rubbing your chin, you’ve never been called a chihuahua before!

“Sounds like we’re gonna need ta’ soften’ dis’ tough guy up a bit first…” Ly sighs. “If we really DO need somethin’ outta’ him, dat’ is… Any ideas?”

Glancing around the parking lot, a few come to mind…

>SCARE TACTICS! YOU’VE GOT BONE CLAWS AND STUFF–HE DOESN’T NEED TO KNOW YOU AREN’T GONNA USE ‘EM!
>WORK HIS FACE A BIT–IT’S NOT LIKE THERE’S A GENOA CONVENTION HERE!
>YOU ATTRACT MORE BEES WITH HONEY, OR WHATEVER–GIVE HIM SOMETHING! (BEER? SNACKS? MERMAID SMUT? OTHER ITEMS?)
>GET A FRIEND TO HELP OUT! (WHO?)
>HEY, DOESN’T THAT REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK HAVE A ‘HONK’ FUNCTION?
>LEAVE THIS CHUMP FOR NOW–YOU’RE WASTING TIME.
>JUST KILL THIS JERK--YOU’RE LOSING STREET CRED BY THE SECOND!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5124820
> WRITE-IN!
Start heating up his mask with our MAKESHIFT FLAMETHROWER. Shining our flashlight at him would be good too.

>>5124820
>HEY, DOESN’T THAT REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK HAVE A ‘HONK’ FUNCTION?

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>>5124820
>>5124842

+1 taunt the fucker. Picrel

>>5124842
>>5124876
>FLAME ON!

>>5124849
>THE DUCKENING!

Looks like we're turning up the heat a little! WRITING!

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You give your conversation partner a disappointed look before rummaging through your pockets. Gotta be in here somewhere…

“I TOLD you already, bitch–let me go or KILL me! Or just take your cinnamon-scented ass away from me, I don’t give a fuck!”

Hey, you don’t need options from him–you’re perfectly capable of coming up with your own! Case in point: finding the item you’re looking for, you remove your trusty MAKESHIFT FLAMETHROWER from your pants along with your FLASHLIGHT. Sensing something in the works, both of the hostage’s guards exchange worried glances before taking a few steps back. Smart.

“Yea, that’s right–kill a guy when he’s bound-up. You sure as shit couldn’t handle this if my arms were free.”

Yep, yep, yep, you mutter as you kneel in front of him, you’ve heard it before! Igniting the lighter taped to the end of the flamethrower, you stick your tongue out in concentration as you point your light in the guy’s face and flick it on!

“AGH!” He grunts with more irritation than pain, “Cut that shit out, idiot!”

All in good time, you reply as you begin heating the side of his mask with your flamethrower. The prisoner tries to squirm away at first, but being bound up and you being pretty spry all things considered, the attempt proves to be futile at best! As the mask’s plastic slowly grows shinier, your new pal fills the air with a high-pitched shriek! Undeterred, you continue your dark work on his mask while you repeatedly flick the flashlight on and off–is he ready to be NICE yet?!

“NNGH! AGFK… FUCK… FUCK YOU!” He hisses through clenched teeth! Guess not, huh? Pressing the lighter closer against the mask, you’re rewarded with an unsettling hissing noise as a few bubbles form on the plastic!

“AAAIIIIIEEEE!” He screams, wrenching his head away from you and tumbling to the pavement! As you move to follow, the looter furiously shakes his head as trails of smoke rise from his cheek!

“ALRIGHTAlrIGHTALRIIIIGHT, you WIN, damn it! Fuckin’ PSYCHO probably scarred me for life!”

Lowering your implements of torture for now, you give your captive a genial smile–you still can, you know…

“N-no!” He sputters, voice quickly losing its aggressive tone! “Y-you wanna talk?! Fine–I’ll be the talkinest-damn guy you ever saw, I swear!”

“Damn, cupcake,” Ly remarks as you allow yourself a triumphant ‘ha HA’, “Yer’ one messed-up cookie, ain’t ya?”

Messed up like a FOX, you cackle, earning an uneasy stare from both your prisoner and his guards! Letting your laughter trail off into a sigh, you adopt a more serious face as you ask your previous question again: what’s his GODDAMN NAME?!

“Joe…” he replies in a terse voice. “Joe Mama…”

“HAH!” Ly exclaims, “I kinda like dis’ guy!”

>CONTD.

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>>5124916
As you move to ‘persuade’ him some more, the looter violently shakes his head! “NoNONONO it’s my real name–I SWEAR! Ch-check my wallet!”

With mild trepidation, you cautiously reach into his pants pocket for the proof you seek. Just when you start to feel eyes on your back, you find it–a light DUCT-TAPE WALLET empty save for TWO DOLLARS, A CONDOM, AND A ROLPH’S GROCERY STORE MEMBER’S CARD! examining the latter, you do a double-take when you read your captive’s name aloud: ’JOSEF MAMA!’

Letting the card drop to the pavement, you look at him with a mixture of confusion and pity–you’re not sure if you should envy him or not!

“Just let me go, damn it!”

That wasn’t one of the choices, JOE! But that’s alright–you’ve got a few lined up for him:

>WHAT’S HIS DEAL? WHY IS HE BANDITING?
>DOES HE HAVE ANY PONGOS ON HIM?
>WHO’S THE BIG CHEESE? YOU WANNA TALK TO THEM!
>WHY SHOULD I LET YOU GO?
>NEVER MIND, I’LL TALK TO YOU LATER!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5124919
Whoops, almost forgot:

DO YOU TAKE ANYTHING ELSE FROM HIS WALLET?

>>5124919
>DOES HE HAVE ANY PONGOS ON HIM?

>>5124919
>>WHAT’S HIS DEAL? WHY IS HE BANDITING?
>>DOES HE HAVE ANY PONGOS ON HIM?

Take all his pongos and that driver’s license— worst punishment we can give him is a trip to the DMV (or whatever in-universe equivalent of that)

>>5124930
Might wanna re-read that, pal-he's got 2 dollars and a grocery store membership card. Chances are he's already due a trip to the DMV, especially after that shameful driving back there!

Also as a quick aside, I FINALLY cleaned up the INVENTORY PASTEBIN a little! It's now been updated and organized into smaller categories! Go check it out!

>>5124961
>>5124930

Alright, just gonna change my vote to:
>>DOES HE HAVE ANY PONGOS ON HIM?

And let him keep the license.

>>5124929
>>5125005
>PONGOS!
>AND TAKE THE 2 DOLLARS!

Writing!

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Surreptitiously pocketing the man’s 2 DOLLARS, your greed, unsurprisingly, isn’t sated! Crossing your arms with a stern look on your face, you ask the bandit where he keeps his PONGOS!

“... what the fuck are you talkin’ about? What are ‘PONGERS?’”

Retrieving a random example from your PONGO POUCH, you shove the disc depicting a drunken cat in your prisoner’s face! THIS, you snarl, THIS is a PONGO! Where are they?!

“Oooh,” Joe nods, eye lenses lighting up in realization, “Yea, I know what a PONGER is! Tell you what–you promise to let me go an’ I’ll tell you where to find some!”

You idly flick your flamethrower’s lighter on and off next to his face. Why should you trust him?

“L-look, we’ve been stealin’--that’s true, but the whole town’s gone ta’ hell!” Joe exclaims, pulling his face away from your toy! “We’ve collected other stuff–weapons, food, meds–we don’t need friggin’ discs, you know?”

What you know, you growl, is that he’s wasting your time! Leaning in closer, you ask him again: why should you trust him?!

“Because I’d rather not DIE, alright? You gimme your word that you’ll let me go and I’ll give you your toys! Hell, you can have ‘em in a minute! Can’t find ‘em if I’m dead, though!”

You click your tongue in annoyance. And what about his other knocked-out pals?

“Them?” He asks, glancing between you and the pile he rolled out of, “Shit, free ‘em, kill ‘em, eat ‘em if it makes you and your skeleton pals happy–I just wanna get outta here!”

As you mull the idea over in your mind, a dusty lamp flickers on inside your head–and what’s he gonna do once he goes free, exactly?

“Fuck do you care? You’ll never see me again!” Joe shrugs. “I’m keepin’ far away from freaky RACCOON-THINGS from now on, that’s for damn sure! I see you on the road? I’m headin’ for a whole other zip code!”

You respond to his terms with a noncommittal ‘huh.’ If what he’s saying is true you could grab some more PONGOS, but is that the uh… the ethnical choice here?

What’s the verdict?
>NOPE! KILL THIS SUCKER!
>YOU AGREE! WHERE ARE THE DAMN PONGOS?
>YOU’LL HAVE TO CONSULT WITH PAULIE FIRST–JOE DID TRY TO ROB HIM!
>DEAL, BUT HE AND HIS FRIENDS HAVE TO STOP BANDITING!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5125035
>>DEAL, BUT HE AND HIS FRIENDS HAVE TO STOP BANDITING!

>>5125035
>DEAL, BUT HE AND HIS FRIENDS HAVE TO STOP BANDITING!

>>5125054
>>5125055
>SWIPER, NO SWIPING!
>SWIPER, NO SWIPING!
>SWIPER, NOOOOOO SWIPING!

Writing!

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Staring daggers into your prisoner’s masked face, you relent with a resigned shrug. Fine, you sigh, but he AND his little pals are through being bandits! No more swiping, y’hear? Joe looks somewhat relieved, but not fully-satisfied.

“Lemme get this straight–you want me to convince all of these guys,” He begins, pointing to the pile next to him, “to stop looting? You’re dumber than you look!”

The looter barely gets his words out of his mouth before you bring your FLAMETHROWER back up to his cheek! And he’s gonna be much UGLIER than he looks when you melt his damn face off! It’s a good deal–one he’d better take!

“Alright, Jesus!” He stammers, shying away from the flame on instinct! “Just make sure your little friends here uphold the deal too!”

You give a nod to his guards.

“You da’ boss, sis!” Replies one of the greasers! “If ya’ ask me, though, I think yer’ lettin’ dis’ square off easy!”

Good thing you didn’t ask, you snarl, pointing the flamethrower at the sentry’s immaculately-groomed hair! Looking to Paulie for confirmation, you get a thumb’s up and a shiny grin from the skeleton as he sticks a fresh smoke in his mouth. Guess that’s that, then. Payment time!

“Yea, yea, keep yer’ fuckin’ pants on…” Joe grumbles. “Okay–you see that APC there with the busted tires?”

Following the looter’s gaze, you spot the vehicle Talbot and Pops totaled still spewing smoke into the air. Yea?

“There’s a compartment in the dashboard to hold documents or someshit–my buddy Omar was drivin’ it and was collecting those stupid toys. There oughta’ be a few in there.”

You answer your captive with a frown–he doesn’t sound very convinced.

“Well I can’t really get up and check now, can I?” He snaps, nodding his head towards his still-bound legs. “He had some, alright? Do me a favor an’ break your ugly skull climbin’ into that damn thing!”

Giving his mask one last sizzle, you leave Joe Mama in a writhing, screaming heap without even saying goodbye. A few minutes of climbing in and out of the wreck later, you emerge about 10 PONGOS RICHER! Sweet!

“Great, hope you choke on ‘em!” Joe shouts, prompting one of the guards to bash him in the stomach with the butt of his rifle! As the looter groans in pain, the other greaser reapplies the gag and shoots you a friendly thumb’s up. FINALLY!

PASTEBIN UPDATED! PONGO COUNT: 152! +50 FROM PAULIE CREDIT = 202!

>CONTD.

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>>5125226
Your business concluded with Joe Mama, you take your newfound wealth over to Haulie-Paulie to get some new business started! Seeing you approaching with your PONGO POUCH in hand, the skeleton can barely contain his excitement as he retrieves a clipboard from the inside of his jacket! Holding it out to you with shaky hands, the greaser shoots you a conspiratorial grin!

“You mighta’ been busy, sis, but so have I! Got a few new things for sale–some of ‘em you ain’t gonna find anywhere else!”

Taking the ledger from him, you take a closer look and nearly double over–he ain’t kiddin’!

>CONTD. ON NEXT POST!

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>>5125231
https://youtu.be/JenMS9t4byE
THE EM’PAULIE’UM INVENTORY:

PONGOS: 202 (WITH CREDIT)

BUNNY SUIT: 200 PONGOS (Same as the Powered Coveralls, but L-LEWDER)
POWERED JANITOR COVERALLS: 175 PONGOS (Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger)
VAN ARMOR: 150 PONGOS (Flashy armor for the van making it more durable!)
PAL PROTECTOR: 130 PONGOS (A prototype shield based on the van’s shield tech. Will give a pal of your choice some more armor!)
ARMOR OF PLHA’AT: 125 PONGOS (Wearing this flimsy armor will turn ONE critfail into a minor fail, breaks upon use.
REPAIR WRENCH: 120 PONGOS (A few thwacks of this will repair your van in SECONDS! Reusable!)
LUCKY LICORICE: 100 PONGOS (Eating allows ONE ROLL to be REROLLED--QM takes the HIGHEST)
SNEAKERS: 90 PONGOS (Designed for sneaking about, hence the name. Will give a boost to STEALTH ROLLS.)
ILLEGAL DUCK PARTS: 75 PONGOS (Step-by-step instructions for illegally modifying your REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK with laser eyes.)
BERRY DELICIOUS: 60 PONGOS (A rare cookbook specializing in berry-related dishes.)
FLIMSY REPAIR WRENCH: 50 PONGOS (One-use wrench that can thwack a van or machine back into working order in no time!)
LASER SIGHT: 50 PONGOS (Fits most firearms and assists in aiming. Gives you a boost to blasting people with that particular weapon!)
A BOX OF SNAKES: 50 PONGOS (What the name says–one box of snakes, alive, of course!)
MARROW MUG: 50 PONGOS (Allows the storage of ONE DRAUGHT of MARROW for later healing use. Refillable.)
FIREARMS FOR IDIOTS: 40 PONGOS (Reading this permanently gives you a boost to SHOOTING ROLLS!)
STAFF STUFF: 40 PONGOS (Reading this permanently gives you a boost to MOP ROLLS!)
MANIPULATING OTHERS: 40 PONGOS (Reading this permanently gives you a boost to DIPLOMACY ROLLS!)
BONE-PROOF VEST: 30 PONGOS (Reduces the damage you or your party member receives--can turn a NASTY attack into a MINOR one!)
NOVELTY SHARK FIN: 30 PONGOS (Turn a relaxing day at the beach into a WACKY one!)
DISPOSABLE REBREATHER: 20 PONGOS (Provides a fresh supply of oxygen… for an hour or so.)
ALL-NIGHT ENERGY DRINK: 20 PONGOS (Gives you a moderate SPEED boost, but leaves you lethargic after about an hour…)
GREASER SKELETON PLUSH: 20 PONGOS (An adorable plush of a Greaser Skeleton!)
SKATEBOARD: 20 PONGOS (Hope you know how to ride this thing.)
HANGOVER HELPER: 10 PONGOS (This stuff really works! Poison, alcohol, neurotoxin-this baby takes care of it all!)
BUG SPRAY: 10 PONGOS (Keeps bugs and other stuff away–also a handy flamethrower tool.)
FROST GRENADE: 10 PONGOS (Freezes enemies in their tracks!)
ACID GRENADE: 10 PONGOS (Melts through your foes!)
BONE BRAU: 10 PONGOS (A 12-Pack of the finest Skeleton-themed lager around! Drink responsibly!)
SKELE-SMOKES: 10 PONGOS (Cigarettes for the classy Skeleton Apocalypse survivor!)

>I’LL BUY (WHAT?)
>NEVERMIND FOR NOW!
>DO YOU HAVE ANY (WRITE-IN WITHIN REASON)?
>WRITE-IN!

>>5125236
>POWERED JANITOR COVERALLS: 175 PONGOS (Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger)
GREASER SKELETON PLUSH: 20 PONGOS (An adorable plush of a Greaser Skeleton!)

>>5125236
>BUNNY SUIT: 200 PONGOS (Same as the Powered Coveralls, but L-LEWDER)

>>5125236
>BUNNY SUIT
>BUNNY SUIT
>BUNNY SUIT
BOING BOING MOTHERFUCKERS!

>>5125249
>COVERALLS AND GREASER PLUSH!

>>5125256
>>5125259
>...

Writing! Hope this was enough time to mull things over!

>>5125385

>tfw we best an immortal lich in a bunnysuit

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You take your time peering over Paulie’s wares–making doubly-sure to read the detailed descriptions! After a few increasingly-irritated reminders from Ly, you remember that you have about 202 PONGOS to spare–enough to buy quite a few items!

But no matter how hard you fight it, your gaze continues to gravitate towards one particular item–one that you can only manage to point a trembling finger at once you’re absolutely certain no one else is looking your way!

“What’s up, kid? Can’t read one of the names?” Haulie-Paulie asks as he looks over your shoulder! “Don’t worry–I’m more than qualified ta’ read off my own sto-oh.”

Without looking up from the page, you manage to stammer out a few shaky words: D-d-does i-it r-rea-really p-p-power you u-up?

“Errr, o-of course!” Paulie sputters as he drags his golden comb through his hair with quaking fingers! “Somethin’ weird about dat’ one–didn’t try it on myself for obvious reasons, but take one look at it an’ you’ll see, kid: there’s somethin’ MAGICAL about it!” Regaining some of his confidence, the skeleton leans closer and whispers into your ear. “I uh… it might work worn under other stuff, ya’ know. Just sayin’.”

Nodding silently, you robotically shake 200 PONGOS out of your pouch and into the greaser’s waiting hand. Counting them one by one, Haulie-Paulie gives you a genuine, if somewhat forced, smile!

“Done deal, sis! I’ll uh…” he explains, dropping his booming voice down to a whisper, “... I’ll put it in a BAG, dig?”

Yea, you squeak, trying and failing to hide the growing redness in your cheeks, you uh… you dig.

While the greaser heads into the truck to pack up your merchandise, you take the first real breath you’ve had in a few minutes. Wiping a few rogue sweat drops from your forehead, you give Kiki, Art, and Mitzi a forced, but still friendly wave as they continue to help load hair products into the truck!

“Aaaand here ya’ go, sis!” Paulie announces as he hands you a paper shopping bag with his face emblazoned on the side! “Not bad, huh? Brand Recognition!”

Peering inside, you can just barely see something black inside a sealed plastic wrapper they put Halloween costumes in! Squinting to get a better look, you can almost taste some sort of… aura around your purchase–one that implicitly tells you that Paulie wasn’t lying!

BUNNY OUTFIT: When worn, you’ll gain a small BONEUS to STRENGTH, DEFENSE, AND SPEED checks! ALL OF ‘EM! Good luck wearing it, though.

PASTEBIN UPDATED: PONGO COUNT = 2!

“Oh yea, before I forget…” Paulie adds, producing a can with the words HANGOVER HELPER on the side, “Give yer’ pale pal one of these from me, yea? On the house!”

Pocketing the freebie and your purchase with a nod of thanks, you contemplate your next move!

>CONTD.

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>>5125425
Now that that’s settled, what’s next?

>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE! (AS PLANNED EARLIER)
>CHECK IN WITH ONE OF YOUR PALS (WHO?)
>CHAT WITH LOUIE THE BARBER!
>GO CHANGE CLOTHES INSIDE!
>IT’S ABOUT TIME YOU HIT THE ROAD!
>WRITE-IN!

Probably signing off for the night here–busy prepping for tomorrow. Should be ready for a fresh update TUESDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST, though! Thanks again for playing and hope to see you then–if I get things done tonight I’ll try to whip up another update or two!

>>5125431
>>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE! (AS PLANNED EARLIER)

Changing can come when we're not in the vicinity of all of our compadres.

>>5125431
>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE! (AS PLANNED EARLIER)

>>5125431
>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE! (AS PLANNED EARLIER)

>“Oh yea, before I forget…” Paulie adds, producing a can with the words HANGOVER HELPER on the side, “Give yer’ pale pal one of these from me, yea? On the house!”
I would have suggested buying this for Syb anyway, but that works, too.

So, anybody else into searching for the missing people at some point when we return to the lodge? That's some sidequest bait we passed up on.

>>5125452
>>5125453
>>5125563
>SPEAK WITH STRIPES!

Writing the last update of the evening! SURPRISE!

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You’re not exactly eager to try out your new duds, especially with so many of your friends making a surprise appearance lately. CHANGING ROOMS or not, you don’t want Stripes flapping his, er, jawbone about your recent purchase!

So instead you whistle to Art and chuck the can of HANGOVER HELPER his way, which he catches!

… with his face.

“DAMN IT, STAN!” He growls, tumbling to the ground, “Why the HELL are you throwing it OVERHAND?!”

That’s how you throw, you spit as the Rent-A-Cop staggers back to his feet clutching the growing goose egg on his noggin. Wuss! Not patient enough to wait for him to recover, you point to the can and then to his still-zombie-like gal-pal–that’ll fix her right up! Courtesy of HAULIE PAULIE!

“Thanks, Paulie!” Art graciously shouts, prompting a laugh and thumb’s up from the greaser! “And thank YOU, Stan…”

Okay, that wasn’t nearly as grateful! Not bothering to pick up the proverbial ‘rope’ this time around, you turn your attention to Stripes who is already watching the events unfold with glee! “Man, the more things change, da’ more they stay the same, huh sis? Except for your doll friend turnin’ human, that is.” The greaser takes a puff from his smoke as he sends an uncertain look in Art’s direction. “And uh… her and him...”

Don’t even start, you groan as you pick a spot next to him and lean back! Letting out a long, satisfied breath, you notice Stripes peering at your bag with interest. “Whatcha’ get, sis?”

THINGS! You shriek, hugging the bag close to your chest like a baby about to be snatched! Just… just SURVIVAL THINGS! The skeleton gives you a long, hard look as his cigarette slowly burns away in his mouth.

“... Huh. ‘Things’ it is, then.”

Damn straight, you growl, refusing to let go of your spoils! A-anyways, you continue, does he have time to, y’know, catch up?

“Dunno, Stan–I’m a very busy man, y’know!” Delivering the line with a stone-cold look on his face, you nearly believe him until he bursts into laughter! “Cripes, sis, I’ve always got time for you! What’s on your mind?”

Good question! Something tells you you have enough time for THREE TOPICS:

>CLIFF, WYATT, HIM… HOW’S THE TRIO DOING, ANYWAYS?
>YOU’RE ONE LIEUTENANT AWAY–DOES HE KNOW HOW THE GOOD SKELLYS ARE GONNA HELP IN THE FINAL FIGHT?
>HOW ARE THE PIRATES AND SOLDIERS FITTING IN AROUND CAMP?
>WHAT DOES HE THINK ABOUT YOUR CURRENT TEAM?
>DOES HE HAVE ANY DATING ADVICE? NOT THAT YOU NEED ANY, THAT IS!
>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?
>WRITE-IN!

>>5125620
>>CLIFF, WYATT, HIM… HOW’S THE TRIO DOING, ANYWAYS?
>>HOW ARE THE PIRATES AND SOLDIERS FITTING IN AROUND CAMP?
>>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?

>>5125620
I wake up and there's been a coomer invasion in the quest? WTF?

>YOU’RE ONE LIEUTENANT AWAY–DOES HE KNOW HOW THE GOOD SKELLYS ARE GONNA HELP IN THE FINAL FIGHT?
>HOW ARE THE PIRATES AND SOLDIERS FITTING IN AROUND CAMP?
>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?

>>5125620
>CLIFF, WYATT, HIM… HOW’S THE TRIO DOING, ANYWAYS?
>YOU’RE ONE LIEUTENANT AWAY–DOES HE KNOW HOW THE GOOD SKELLYS ARE GONNA HELP IN THE FINAL FIGHT?
>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?

>>5125620
WhT everybody else is sayin alcohol isn't conducive to posting.

>>5125620
And is Stan that stacked on the chest ?

>>5125620
>CLIFF, WYATT, HIM… HOW’S THE TRIO DOING, ANYWAYS?
>HOW ARE THE PIRATES AND SOLDIERS FITTING IN AROUND CAMP?
>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?

>>5125620
>CLIFF, WYATT, HIM… HOW’S THE TRIO DOING, ANYWAYS?
>HOW ARE THE PIRATES AND SOLDIERS FITTING IN AROUND CAMP?
>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?

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>>5125706
I know, right? Look at these jabronis.

>>5125730
Cheers, anon! Hope it was fun!

>>5125731
>pic related

>>5125625
>>5125706
>>5125724
>>5126280
>>5126429
Vote Tally:
>THE TRIO: 4
>PIRATES AND SOLDIERS: 4
>MISSING HUMANS: 5
>FINAL FIGHT: 2

Looks like TRIO, PIRATES & SOLDIERS, and MISSING HUMANS wins it! Writing!

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HE is, you begin, causing a grin to form on the skeleton’s face! And Wyatt… and Cliff. How are they all doing, anyways?

“Oh…” Stripes mutters, clearly misreading your intentions, “Well like I said, sis, can’t really complai-”

Yea, yea, you interrupt with a stern look on your face, but how are they REALLY doing? He can’t lie to his BOSS--it’s a law! Opening his mouth to say something, the greaser falters and lets out a resigned sigh.

“Alright, ya’ got me.” He groans, puffing away on his cigarette. “Truth is, kid, we’re uh… well I’m kinda…” Stripes pauses to run a comb through his already-immaculately-kept hair. “Scared, I guess.”

You blink at the bonehead’s sudden change in demeanor. What the hell’s he talking about? Didn’t they just whip up a whole base and stuff?

“Hell yea we did!” Stripes exclaims, puffing out his chest with pride! “I just… I dunno, Stan–everything’s tellin’ me I oughta be excited, dig? I got my life back, my friends, I’m gonna help you stomp TIM’S ugly skull in, but even wit’ all that, I still feel…” The skeleton’s face scrunches up in confusion. “What’s the word… uneasy?”

Well yea, you shrug, no one said it’d be easy!

“You’re right–I’m probably just thinkin’ too much–never really did that a lot when I still had skin, y’know?” The skeleton lets out a quiet chuckle. “I let my LOOKS do the talkin’! Ha ha…”

Giving him a polite laugh, you can tell that it wasn’t enough. Taking another long, pensive drag from his cigarette, the skeleton looks skyward for a moment.

“Sorry… I know ya’ didn’t come over to hear me bitch an’ moan.”

He doesn’t have to apologize at all, you huff, you were the one who dug! Besides, you continue with growing unease in your chest, expressing your feelings is… well, it’s tough! He’s doing a helluva lot better than you do!

“Hah-score one for Stripes!” The skeleton laughs in a much more convincing tone! “It ain’t all bad, kid–it’s just a bit unsettlin’, dig? Wyatt’s just buried in fixin’ stuff up all da’ time, an’ CLIFF?” The greaser shakes his head as he puffs another cloud into the air. “Well, Cliff’s Cliff...”

>CONTD.

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>>5127073
You respond with a click of your tongue–he DID seem a bit more serious than the others even before he took over for Rocky…

“Well the thing is, sis, Cliff was always pretty serious.” Stripes replies. “Like, you an’ everyone else would be on, what, step 2?” The skeleton’s face scrunches up as he trips over his metaphor. “And… and Cliff would already be on Step 7. Always caught up in here.” He explains, tapping a bony finger against his skull.

Okay, you say, cocking your head to the side, but what’s different then?

“Wish I knew, kid. Wish I knew…” Stripes shrugs, letting the remains of his cigarette fall to the ground. “Guy just seems… trapped, I guess. Like he sees a train comin’, but he can’t get off the tracks, dig?”

Blinking at the explanation, you cross your arms and frown–no, you mutter, you don’t dig. Seeing your expression darken, Stripes stretches his arms out and lazily shrugs! “Aaaaah, don’t think about it too hard, sis–you’ll give yourself a headache! It’s just nerves, is all–once we have dis’ party and take down the big cheese, well-” The greaser pauses as he searches for the rest of his sentence. “... well, that’ll be that, I guess.”

Yea, you sigh, can’t friggin’ wait!

Stripes stares at you for a moment before fetching another cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket. “Yea,” he mumbles, “me neither…”

>CONTD.

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>>5127079
Sensing that the conversation could use a change of topic, you opt to ask Stripes about his new pals–how are the soldiers and the pirates getting along?

“Feels like school all over again, sis,” He replies as an amused look forms on his face. “Y’know, with all the different crowds and stuff? It’s a riot!” Pushing off of the truck, the skeleton rapidly shifts between soldier and pirate impressions–marching one second, drunkenly stumbling the next! “Some of da’ soldier boys are real uptight, dig? We’re talkin’ poles so far up their asses they might as well be lollipops! But then you’ve got the ones who party more than WE do!”

Huh, you respond, grinning at the picture forming in your head, must be an old guy thing, huh?

“Dat’s the best part!” Stripes laughs, “They ALL got it–Minutemen, Civil War, G.I’s from Korea an’ some war startin’ wit’ a ‘V’... Some of ‘em are even crazier than the pirates–get dis’: we’ve got a guy from the OLD days, dig? An’ I mean OLD! Guy was a rifleman in da’ Constitutional Army or somethin’--one second he’s flappin’ his gums about Redcoats or some crap, but the next he’s teachin’ us all how ta’ brew hooch outta’ crap we found in da’ woods! Kooky guy, sis.”

Sounds like they’re getting along, then, you remark, earning a nod from the skeleton.

“You bet we are–learnin’ all kinds of stuff too: I was workin’ in da’ shop the other day an’ some pilot was teachin’ me an’ a few buccaneers how ta’ put a helicopter together! Can you believe it?! STRIPES THE AVIATOR!”

Catching yourself drooling at the thought of owning a helicopter, you manage to wipe your spit onto your sleeve before it gets grody! Does that mean you’ll be getting AERIAL SUPPORT in the FINAL BATTLE?

“Da’ sky’s da’ limit!” Stripes chuckles, pointing his finger skyward! “Until I crash it into a tree, that is. But before that, sure!”

Gazing into the sky for a few more moments, the greaser turns to face you again with a shocked look on his face! “Dang, I nearly forgot–those two Frenchies you saved say ‘bonjour’ or whatever! When they ain’t tryin’ ta kill each other, that is…”

Andre and The Marquis, you mutter under your breath, you can almost hear the shouting…

“Dat’ ain’t even the worst of it!” Stripes groans! “They’re just… they’re always swordfightin’... ALWAYS. It was kinda hip at first, but now?” The greaser shivers. “The clangin’ metal… it HAUNTS me…”

>CONTD.

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>>5127082
Speaking of ‘haunts’, you segue, what’s the word on those MISSING HUMANS lately? Mulling over your question with a thoughtful expression, Stripes puffs a few more clouds of smoke before answering.

“Funny ya’ mention it–Paulie’s been hoppin’ mad about those looter guys as of late. Kept talkin’ about how they’ve been gettin’ meaner n’ meaner with all these new toys…” Glancing in Joe Mama’s direction, the greaser sends an impolite gesture in the bandit’s direction. “Didn’t really believe it until this ride.”

Yea, you growl, but what’s that gotta do with anything? You asked about MISSING HUMANS, damn it!

“I’m gettin’ there, jeez!” Stripes groans! “Word is, those looters have just been findin’ GOOD BOY wheels just lyin’ around! Like the owners just got out to take a whizz or somethin’!”

You respond with a frown–so they aren’t even fighting back? Chumps!

“I couldn’t tell ya, sis, but I will say this: from what we’ve gathered, only SMALL GROUPS have been goin’ missin’. Larger convoys? They’re doin’ fine from what we’ve seen!” A scowl forms on the skeleton’s face. “A bit too fine if ya’ ask me–can barely go for a drive anymore without nearly havin’ yer head taken off by one of those trigger-happy goons!” Puffing away angrily, Stripes shifts his sour look in your direction! “Didn’t you tell ‘em about the meetin’ we set up? Jokers never showed up!”

Of course you did, you snap–it’s not your fault that BORIS would rather piss you off than help everyone out!

“Yea, yea, knowin’ you you probably did all ya’ could…” Stripes nods, cooling down a little bit. “Anyways, whatever’s makin’ those Rent-A-Cops leave their wheels is stickin’ ta’ smaller prey, dig? An’ it hasn’t hassled us at all.”

“Only HUMANS are goin’ missin’, huh?” Ly muses as you rub your chin in thought. Yea, you mutter, lucky you!

>CONTD.

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>>5127085
Before you can continue, your conversation is put on hold by the arrival of a well-groomed pompadour sticking its business end between you both!

“Hate ta’ cut the reunion short, kids,” Haulie-Paulie explains in an apologetic tone, “but we gotta hit da’ road…”

Looking past Paulie, you watch as the other greasers methodically chuck their unconscious prisoners into the back of the truck. Guess he’s got them covered, then.

“Don’t sweat it, sis–we’ll dump ‘em on da’ side of the road once we get back into CLEARWATER.” Paulie explains as you all watch Eddie and Tucker join in on the loading. Works for you!

“Sorry, Stan–lotsa work ta’ be done!” Stripes laughs with a sarcastic shrug! “Don’t want the bossman here ta’ burst a gasket!”

“Yea, you’ve been a huge help…” Paulie mutters, shaking his head at the greaser. “Anywho, thanks again, Stan–for everything. You know who to call if ya’ need anything else, yea?”

“An’ don’t even think of skippin’ out on our PARTY!” Stripes exclaims as he sends an ‘I’m watchin’ you’ gesture your way! Yea, yea, you scoff, you’ll try to make it!

“That’s our boss!” Stripes laughs before pulling you into another hug! “You uh… you take care of yourself, dig?”

Yea, you nod as you look into Stripe’s eye sockets, you dig, damn it! It's not like you TRY to make everyone wanna kill you!

“Swell!” Paulie smiles. “Anything else ya’ need, Stan?”

Good question–what’s next on the agenda?
>ONE MORE THING, PAULIE!
>JUST A MINUTE, STRIPES!
>YOU WANNA CHAT WITH JOE MAMA FOR A SEC!
>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5127090
>>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!

Gonna leave this open for tonight, folks--gotta get ready for bed. Sorry for the few updates--should have some more WEDNESDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Maybe we'll be back on the road by then--who can say?

>>5127090
>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!

>>5127090
>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!
Time to return to the HQ.

>>5127090
>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!

>>5127090
>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!

>>5127094
>>5127451
>>5127459
>>5127574
>>5128007
>NOPE!

Writing!

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Yea, you reply–you need him to stow away more often! It was good seeing him after, what, three updates?

“A few more than that, but I appreciate da’ sentiment, kid.” Tousling your WOLF CUT, the greaser gives your new ‘do a nod of approval. “Lookin’ keen, by the way–almost didn’t recognize ya’ when I got outta the rig!” The skeleton glances at your pals milling around and shoots you a conspiratorial glance. “Hey, uh, if any of these guys ya’ got hangin’ around bother ya, you let your big bros know, alright?”

He grins at you, but the word ‘bro’ sends a haunting shiver down your spine. Right when you weren’t thinking about it…

“Errr, an’ by that I mean Wyatt, Cliff, an’ yours truly!” Stripes clarifies while jerking a thumb towards his smug face! “Mostly me though, dig?”

Y-yea, you stammer, recovering from your thoughts, you dig! With one last friendly shake of your shoulder, the greaser hops into the passenger’s seat as Paulie whistles for the others!

“Seeya at the party, kid!” Stripes shouts, winking at you from the passenger window! “Dress ta’ impress!”

As promptly as it arrived, Paulie’s big rig rips free of the parking lot with a triumphant roar of its horn! Watching them depart, a wide grin settles on your face and lingers there long after the truck rides off into the sunrise.

“Hard to believe they were traveling with us only a few days ago…”

Feeling a light hand rest on your shoulder, you turn to find Sybil with a much healthier, but still pale, Sybil fixing her hair at your side. “A shame they left so quickly.”

Holy crap, you mutter in disbelief–is that HER? A few seconds ago you were prepared to give her a desert burial! Softly giggling at your words, The Goth produces an empty, but familiar can of HANGOVER HELPER from her side! “Not this time! That beverage restored me almost immediately–in fact, I’d wager I’m about one-hundred perceBBLLLLLUUUUUAUAAAAAAUUUUGGHHH!”

Violently spewing what little remains in her guts onto the pavement in front of you, your pal recovers a moment after and daintily wipes her face clean with a black and red handkerchief from her pocket.

“Pardon me… let’s wager ninety percent, shall we?”

Yea, you nod as you check your pants and boots for any splashage, let’s go with that…

>CONTD.

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>>5128697
The good news is that if Syb did hork on you, it’s barely visible through the layers of dust, blood, and other debris caked onto your boots and pants! Small victories, huh?

“Speaking of,” Sybil continues with a sheepish look on her still somewhat-sickly face, “I apologize for being unable to assist you all in the fight–not that you didn’t do well without me, of course.”

Is this slut seriously apologizing to you? Bringing her in for a hug, you quietly instruct your bestie to shut the hell up–it all worked out in the end, right? Plus if she got involved she probably would have puked mid-spell and summoned, like, PUKE GOLEMS or something. From PUKE DIMENSION.

“Yes, well,” She mutters, smiling at your reasoning, “I’ll try to behave myself more in the future–I was acting completely irresponsible last night and-”

“And it was amazing!” Another hand rests on both Sybil’s and your remaining shoulders. “If anything you oughta’ get plastered more often, Syb.”

Looking behind you, you find your other pal Mitzi standing behind you! “Take a picture, Stan–it’ll last longer.” She whispers with a wink. Where the hell was she during that scrap?

“We were cleaning the dishes, duh.” Explains the tomboy with a roll of her eyes. “Besides, you guys had it handled!” Leaning in closer, the Rent-A-Cop whispers into your ear: “Can always rely on Talbot, can’t ya’, Stan? Jealous!”

You respond with a flick to her forehead! Go get a SMUG Check, why don’t ya? You did most of the fighting–Gramps and Talbot helped, but-

“HEY, FREAK!” Speak of the devil. Turning again to face yet another voice, you spot Marshal Parble standing next to Mayor Malton and Louie the Barber! Locking eyes with you, the lawman impatiently motions for you to come over. Man, everyone wants a piece of you today, huh?

“Can you blame ‘em?” Mitzi shrugs before peeking over your shoulder at the bag you’re carrying. “Whatja’ get, by the way? Thought you’d buy a bunch of stuff…”

“As did I–who knows when we’ll cross paths with Paulie again? Are we adequately prepared?” As Sybil also moves to peek into your bag, you shake both girls off like a dog trying to dry itself off before scuttling towards the townsfolk. You got STUFF, you snarl in mid-scamper! Don’t even trip!

“Atta’ girl, cupcake.” Ly remarks as you stow the bag into your pockets. “They won’t suspect a thing!”

Don’t you start, you hiss as Mayor Malton and Louie greet you with smiles!

“Yea, da’ less said about dat’ purchase da’ better.” Your skeleton replies with a shiver! “Gives me goosebumps...”

Keep it up and he’s getting bruises!

>CONTD.

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>>5128699
“Stanley!” exclaims the mayor as he runs a finger along his greased mustache, “I take it y’all enjoyed yourselves last night?”

Yea, you nod, the taste of booze still somehow lingering on the tip of your tongue, it was pretty neat!

“What she means to say, Ike,” Gramps interjects, “Is that she and her friends had SO good of a time she can hardly express it in words.” Right?”

Yea, you reply as you give Pops a grateful nod, couldn’t have said it better!

“Well that’s just swell!” The Mayortender remarks with a hearty laugh! “And er, don’t you worry none about the damages–as far as they go, that hootenanny was one of the tamer ones if ya’ can believe it!”

“Think I saw some dried blood on the ceilin’ last night…” Gramps muses with a nostalgic grin on his bony face. “One hell of a Fourth O’ July…”

Sharing a laugh, both The Marshal and Mayor shake it off quickly before turning their attention back your way. As they should!

“Anywho, Stanley, The Marshal here tells me you an’ yer’ erm, associates, conducted yourselves rather well when you went after Clayton–so much so, in fact, that we’ve agreed that COMMENDATIONS are in order!”

An eager smile creeps across your face! Hell yea, you shout! Let’s get SHINDIG #2 started right now!

“Didn’t we have stuff ta’ do today?” Asks your skeleton in a mildly-annoyed tone. Well yea, you shrug, but there’s always tomorrow, right?

“Number two! HAH! Not a bad idea in the least, little lady!” Doubling over with laughter, tears start running down Ike’s face as you try to get his attention. Hey, you growl, it wasn’t a joke! You want more free drinks, old man!

The Mayor recovers shortly after Pops slaps you upside the head. OW! Wheezing despite not having any lungs, Ike dabs his face with a damp bar rag before stuffing it back into his breast pocket.

“Keep that up and you’ll be the death of me, Stan! Hoo, boy…” As he regains some of his politician’s demeanor, The mayor removes a RUSTY OLD KEY from his coat pocket. Frowning in confusion, you politely ask the skeleton just what the hell you’re looking at.

OW! Quit hitting me, Gramps!

“Watch yer’ tone, damn you! An’ quit callin’ me ‘Gramps’!”

>CONTD.

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>>5128701
Retreating to a safe distance from the senile old codger–STAY BACK!

… A safe distance from The Marshal, you repeat your question to the Mayor–what’s this KEY, anyways?

“This,” Replies the Mayortender with a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye socket, “Is a KEY TO JOPLIN–the SALOON, to be clear.” Holding it out for you to take, you retrieve the key from him with trembling lips–is… is he SERIOUS?

“Well it ain’t a big, FANCY key like ya’ see in those civilized towns,” Ike explains with a laugh, “but JOPLIN’S always had its share of uniqueitudes… All the same, it’d be an’ honor and a pleasure if you took it with our blessings!”

Marveling at the tiny piece of shaped metal, you gently place your due reward in your pocket with a reassuring pat–you’ll take good care of it, that’s for sure!

“Please do,” Ike chuckles, “It’s the only one I got! HA, just foolin’!” Nudging you between the ribs with his elbow, The Mayor’s own joke sends him reeling into hysterics again. Should you, like, come back later or something?

“Don’t be an ass, kid,” Pops grumbles as he sends a mean look towards your van, “you an’ I both know you aren’t gonna travel out here again on a damned social call.” Before you can argue, your temporary ally retrieves a piece of metal of his own from his duster pocket–a STAR-SHAPED BADGE ENGRAVED WITH THE WORD ‘DEPUTY MARSHAL’!

Quietly holding it out for you to grab, The Marshal grows more and more flustered as you give him a smug grin instead! A present? From GAM-GAM?! “Damn it, girl, you take this badge and you wear it with respect!” Slapping it into your hand, the old fogey harrumphs as you examine the goods! “And don’t even think about losing it, ya’ hear? Or I’ll make you wish yer’ dumb hide perished in that damn mine!”

Stowing the badge next to your key, you shrug–it’s definitely a start, but he’s got a LOT of catching up to do in the ‘Gift’ department!

“You take what you get, you circus freak!” He snaps as a faint smile breaks through his gruff exterior. “... an’ if you ever need some more WORDS OF WISDOM, well… you know who to call.”

Standing there awkwardly, you make things even worse by wrapping the gunslinger into a bear hug! Grumbling in protest, the skeleton doesn’t shake you off–leaning in, you give your great-whatever a quiet ‘thank you’ before releasing him from your clutches.

“Just do me a favor, wouldja?” He asks, quickly regaining his composure. “If someone ever has the misfortune of startin’ a family with ya, try to pass on more of the Parble stuff… you can keep the Raccoon crap!”

Bile leaps into your throat at the sound of the word ‘children’ BUH-ARF!

>CONTD.

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>>5128705
After the wave of nausea leaves you, it suddenly dawns on you that Louie the Barber’s been standing in the circle the whole time! Holding your hand out expectantly, you snap your fingers a few times to get the ball rolling–gifts, you grunt, let’s go!

“Well I hate to admit it, my dear, but when it comes to awards and such I’m a downright pauper, I’m afraid…” Giving you an apologetic look, an embarrassed smile slowly creeps onto the barber’s face. “But I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t see you off–it’d just be plain rude considering what you’ve done for me an’ the town!”

Yea, you shrug, it would. What’s his plan now, anyways?

“Well,” Louie begins, “All those fine-haired fellows struck some inspiration back into these old bones… and I presume that a camp full of ‘em could make use of someone like me… more than these folk can, at least.” Gesturing to the town of JOPLIN at the base of the hill, Louie bows his head at you. “I’ll be sojourning at that DRIVE-IN they mentioned for a spell once I get my belongings in order–it ain’t much, I know, but if you ever need another trim, well, it’d be an honor to oblige!”

“Yes indeed!” Ike adds, finally recovering from his second laughing fit, “Perhaps it’d do us some good to reach out to our neighbors. We’ve certainly got some options with those BLACK EYES running for the hills…”

Hearing the van being loaded behind you, you glance backwards and notice Gus and Marcie loading up the bike while Pete and the rest of your pals prepare for departure! Turning your attention back to the skeletons, The Mayor politely waves you away. “But don’t concern yourself with that, Stanley–sounds like you’ve got some work to do, as do we!”

“Keep those guns close, missy.” Pops adds as he gingerly pats you on the shoulder. “And those folk of yours even closer.”

Turning to leave, you give the townsfolk one last wave–you’ll see them again soon!

“Not TOO soon, I hope!” The Marshal quips, earning another bout of laughter from Ike! Shaking your head, you head for the garage to make final preparations!

>CONTD.

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>>5128707
“Just in time!” Art remarks as you approach the van, “We juuust finished doing all the heavy lifting.”

“No sweat, Stan!” Talbot grunts, flexing his tracksuited bicep in your direction. “I needed a morning warm-up anyways!”

Blowing them off, you turn your attention to Gus and his sister as the former performs one last inspection on his bike. Wasn’t he supposed to leave a while ago?

“Yea.” Drones the delivery man, not even looking up from his wheels. “There were dishes, though.”

Yea, you heard. Tightening one last bolt, a faint smile forms on Gus’ face as he finally turns his attention your way. “We’ll drive with you until we reach town–I’ll drop Marcie off at the PIZZA PLACE, but don’t worry-”

He’ll find you, you interrupt, finishing his sentence for him. Giving you a nod, your neighbor resumes his maintenance while Marcie gets comfortable in the sidecar. “Thanks for tracking me down, Stan. It was good to see you again.”

Yea, you reply, it was pretty wild, huh? Turning to leave, a thought worms its way into your brain–you’ve got her, sure, but what happened to those other refugees?

“Thought you might ask about that!” From the other end of the garage comes Pete carrying two jerry cans of what you assume is fuel–the old man still wearing the same greasy hat and dark shades you rescued him in. “Y’all missed it, but those other folks came into town early in the morning and picked ‘em all up! Said something about takin’ everyone to a BUNKER in the city…”

“Hey, that’s where we’re going!” Eddie announces as he and Kiki finish loading some sleeping bags into the back of the van! “You should come too, Pete–it’s pretty cool!”

“It would be safer…” Tucker adds as he hands a frosty bottle of water to Art. “And the people there could probably use your mechanical skills!”

“Yea, well…” Pete shrugs, taking a seat in his creaky chair, “Maybe I’ll wander on over… eventually. I’m a creature of habit, ya’ know?” Gesturing to the garage around you, a smile forms on the old man’s lips. “‘Sides, someone’s gotta stick around in case more tourists show up!”

“In any case, thank you very much for all the assistance.” Sybil grins. “We’d probably still be stuck here if it wasn’t for your generosity!”

“Hey, mi garage-o es su garage-o!” The shuttle driver laughs! “Least I can do for the kids who saved my life!” Hearing the van’s engine roar to life behind you, you and your pals give Gus, Marcie, and Pete one last wave goodbye!

“Watch yourselves out there!” He warns, returning your wave as you all file into the back of the vehicle.

Collapsing into a back seat, you relish the van’s industrial-strength air conditioning as Talbot and Eddie close the doors behind you!

And just like that you’re on the road again…

>CONTD.

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>>5128709
“Man,” Ly remarks as Mitzi resumes reading her WATER POLO MONTHLY MAGAZINE and Eddie tends to the RIP KORD CUTOUT, “If we gotta’ say goodbye to anyone else I’m gonna pass OUT!”

Not a bad idea, you muse as you watch Tucker and Kiki jot down production notes. Right–the film...

“I dunno about you guys,” Talbot remarks, raising his feet on the seat next to you, “but if I was a skeleton right now I’d be peekin’ over my shoulder!”

“One more to go, Stan!” Eddie gushes as he collapses into the seat next to you! “Not long now, huh?”

“Easy there, Ed-” Tucker chuckles, “We’ll still have to take down the ringleader too!” A quizzical look forms on the film student’s face. “Too bad we couldn’t have just gone straight for him–you think Liches work on Vampire rules or whatever?”

“What, you mean like ‘you kill the master, you kill his minions’?” Eddie asks. “That’s uh… You know what? That’s a good point!” Peeking through the hole at the passenger’s seat, Eddie politely pokes Syb’s shoulder. “Yo, Syb–is that how they work?”

“Theoretically, yes,” The Goth replies, her face scrunched up in thought. “But it’s hard to say–despite being ‘Thralls’ of the Lich, the skeletons we’ve met have displayed an unusual amount of independence.” Sighing in frustration, your bestie turns to give the backseat crew an apologetic shrug. “I hate to say it, but we might be writing a brand-new book here…”

“In that case, let’s keep it simple, yea?” Mitzi suggests, eyes glued to her reading material. “We take down the LIEUTENANT, then we take the fight to the big cheese.”

While you and the others nod in assent, Kiki leans in close to Tucker’s ear and whispers a few hushed words. “Keek says we should keep it simpler–Stan’s gotta meet with her boss first, right?”

Ugh, you groan, you can’t wait...

“Say hi to ‘em for me, okay?” Mitzi says with a cheeky grin, “There’s a pool in that PRIVATE BUNKER with my name on it!”

“Hey, yea--I get to come in this time! FINALLY!” Talbot exclaims as he pumps his fist in the air! Seeing you stare, however, the janitor quickly shifts gears. “I uh… I mean I’ll finally get to see that place you jerks keep talking about! About time!”

Glaring at your ex-bodyguard, you sink into your seat as you contemplate how to spend the ride–something tells you it’s gonna be a LONG one…
>CHAT WITH A PAL (WHO?)
>INSPECT/MESS WITH AN ITEM (WHICH ONE?)
>JUST SLEEP! YOU COULD USE SOME REST!
>ASK ART IF YOU CAN DRIVE FOR A BIT!
>WRITE-IN!

Sorry for the short update--it's just about bedtime for me so I'll be calling it here for tonight! Should have more for ya THURSDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Won't be on my main computer, though, so don't expect much. Thanks again for playing and see you next time!

>>5128712
>>JUST SLEEP! YOU COULD USE SOME REST!

But give the psst-psst to Talbot that we still wanna hear his murder-skelly stories later if we haven't already reminded him yet.

>>5128712
>JUST SLEEP! YOU COULD USE SOME REST!

>>5128712
>CHAT WITH A PAL Talbot, he owes us a story

>>5128712
>JUST SLEEP! YOU COULD USE SOME REST!
we can wait on talking with talbot for now

>>5128712
>JUST SLEEP! YOU COULD USE SOME REST!

>>5128717
>>5128810
>>5129310
>>5129461
>CATCH THEM Z'S!

>>5128825
>TALK TO TALBOT!

Writing!

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Mentally sifting through your options, your decision-making process is cut short when your body abruptly remembers that it spent most of, if not the whole, night clinging to Talbot’s similarly-paralyzed form… and not in the sexy way either! Too tired and unwilling to look back on the events of last night any further, you instead squirm into the most comfortable position your seat provides before letting your already-heavy eyelids close…

… and IMMEDIATELY OPEN THEM UP AGAIN! You almost forgot! Glaring across the van at Talbot, it doesn’t take long for him to notice you.

“Yea?” He grunts, leaving his legs propped onto the seat next to you. “What?”

Your face scrunches into a frown as you continue to stare. Getting a read on your ex-bodyguard is anything but easy, especially given his unique brand of, well, JERKINESS.

Your fellow janitor matches your frown with one of his own. “Whaaaat?” Hard to believe he was that twelve-foot-tall murder machine only a few days ago–even harder to believe he went from a gentle giant to, well, THIS.

“What the hell are you staring at, Stan?” He growls, earning a disapproving glare from Kiki and Tucker. “What?! She’s just STARING at me!”

You haven’t forgotten the story he owes you, you remind yourself–the story of what he remembers of his past life. Part of you wouldn’t mind hearing it right now–no doubt the others are curious too if he hasn’t spilled the beans to them already!

“Stan?” Eddie asks from the seat next to you, “You uh… you alive in there?”

“She WON’T be if she doesn’t quit STARING!” Talbot huffs, crossing his arms in growing frustration! But there’s plenty of time for that later, you conclude–whether it’s after your meeting with THE BOSS or that MYSTERIOUS CONTACT OF YOURS, you’re certain you’ll get it outta’ him eventually. Feeling sleep claw at your body, you lean back in your seat and give your ex-bodyguard an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture before drifting off to the sound of magazine pages turning, snacks being eaten, conversations being had, an-

“Don’t you DARE fall asleep!” Snarls the guy across from you, “Hey! I’M TALKING TO Y-!”

The sandman takes you down for the count before the red-haired hellion can finish. Feeling the weight of your burdens and stresses fade away, you find yourself in a well-deserved state of calm relaxation…

Goodbye reality…
Hello DREAM WORLD…

Where do you find yourself today? WRITE-IN details or leave blank for a random choice!
>A MEMORY!
>A GOOD DREAM!
>A NIGHTMARE!
>SOMEWHERE OR SOMETHING ELSE (WRITE-IN)!
>NOWHERE! JUST SLEEP NORMALLY, DAMN IT!

That's it for tonight, all--sorry for the short update, but I'm not on my main rig and I've still got some stuff to do. Should have more for ya FRIDAY around the usual 6-7PM PST! Thanks for being patient and Happy Almost Weekend!

>>5130076
>>NOWHERE! JUST SLEEP NORMALLY, DAMN IT!

>>5130076
>>A MEMORY!

>>5130076
>A GOOD DREAM!
Gamugo flies in in his UFO and abducts Boris for eternal anal probing.

>>5130076
>>5130225 +1

>>5130076
>A NIGHTMARE!
I'm curious to see what other kinds of horrors our subconscious can generate from its own devices.

>>5130079
>JUST SLEEP, DAMN YOU!

>>5130090
>A MEMORY!

>>5130225
>>5130257
>A PRETTY GOOD DREAM, ALL THINGS CONSIDERED!

>>5130884
>NIGHTMARE! EEEEEK!

Writing!

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Pleasantly drifting through a restful cat nap, it isn’t long before you feel the warm tickle of the afternoon sun’s rays on your face! Awakening with a drawn-out, but satisfied yawn, you find yourself walking down the sidewalk downtown. Yes, you mutter to yourself, you had an appointment–how could it have slipped your mind so easily?

Doubling your pace, you politely skirt around what little pedestrians share the sidewalk–an old man walking his older dog, a giggling young couple, a flock of chatty businessmen. Reaching the end of the street corner, you pause on the curb as a traffic guard waves the midday traffic through the intersection. As his eyes meet yours, the bright-colored man gives you a subtle nod before raising his gloved hands in the air like a conductor! Like magic, the cars slow to a halt, and with a genial wink the guard motions for you to cross!

Giving him a friendly wave, you’re just about to step off of the curb when a shadow engulfs the whole block… and an all-too-familiar song reverberates across the city!
https://youtu.be/mHjH3DyKChU
As you turn to face the source, you barely manage to duck under a spinning sixteen-wheeler emblazoned with the GOOD BOY DOGGIE BONES mascot hurtling down the street!

Though you manage to avoid being pulped, the traffic guard, a few more pedestrians, and the majority of the commuters aren’t so lucky! Within seconds the once-peaceful intersection descends into bedlam–as the survivors writhe on the pavement covered in their own viscera and vehicles burst into flames, the origin of the hellish music stomps into view–with shoes that could crush a cathedral!

“YES, STAN…” Booms an echoing voice from far above, “IT IS I: BORIS! YOUR IMMORTAL FOE!” Following the massive pair of legs upwards, you find yourself staring at a BORIS the size of a skyscraper! Compensating, much?!

“BWA HA HA! HOW’S THE WEATHER DOWN THERE?!” He laughs, smashing the buildings around him like a bully wrecking sandcastles! “I’D SAY YOU LOOK LIKE AN ANT FROM UP HERE, BUT THAT’D BE HURTFUL… TO THE ANTS, THAT IS!”

BORIS, YOU KING-SIZED CRETIN, you exclaim as you shake your fist his way, this is just another one of his screwy schemes, isn’t it?! Snapping an antenna off of a nearby roof, your colossal co-worker cleans between his sparkling teeth before letting it fall to the streets below! “OF COURSE,” He boasts, spreading his arms wide to bask in his wickedness! “YET ANOTHER FINE ADDITION TO MY MALEVOLENT MACHINATIONS!”

Stomping towards you with a cheshire grin on his face, Boris slams a fist through a building with each monstrous step! “THE SKELETONS! YOUR BLACKOUTS! SUE HATING YOU! SYBIL GETTING WITH ART! ALL MERE STEPPING STONES IN MY GRAND SCHEME!”

You KNEW it!

>CONTD.

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>>5131608
You try to keep your distance, but it’s no use–for each football field-sized stride he takes, you can only take one sloth-like step… like your legs were made of JELLY or something! Watching your foe draw closer, sweat drops the size of water balloons form all over your body!

Feeling an overturned car press against your back, you scan your surroundings for the quickest escape route–just in time to be snatched up by a pair of gargantuan gloved fingers! Squirming to break free, your feral flailing fails to hit anything! Let me go, you big oaf!

“HMMM, LET ME THINK ABOUT IT! OH, I KNOW: HOW ABOUT ‘NO’! BWAAAAA HA HA HA HA!” Jerking his head back with maddened glee, Boris breaks into a fit of laughter that puts Mayor Malton’s to shame! “SORRY, BUMBLEBEE, BUT AS THEY SAY IN FOOTBALL–ONE STRIKE AND YOU’RE OUT! IT’S BEEN A REAL ‘HOLE IN ONE’!”

Opening his mouth wide, Boris is just about to drop you in like a grape when you spot a sight for sore eyes on the streets below–one with purple streaks in her hair and a displeased look on her pale face!

“Well, well, well…caught in a pickle again, Stan?”

SYB! Rubbing your hands together with glee, you send a devious grin in Boris’ direction–he’s screwed now!

“Don’t forget us!”

From behind the charred cityscape come your friends: ART, MITZI, TUCKER, EDDIE, KIKI, GUS, DENISE, hell, even TALBOT! Standing in three rows of three, your friends snap into a perfectly-choreographed pose in front of the belligerent blowhard! Rather than cower, however, you feel Boris’ colossal body shake with… laughter?!

“BWA HA HA HA! A TEAM’S NOT A TEAM WITHOUT A GOALIE, BUMBLEBEE!” You don’t know what the hell he means, but it doesn’t matter–now that your pals are here he’s TOAST! Rather than charge into battle, however, your loyal minions just STAND there! Hey, you exclaim with a few rousing snaps of your fingers, chop chop with the rescuing! You’ve got GAMES to play!

“I mean… do we have to?” Mitzi asks with a bored look on her face.

“Yea–I’d rather go make out with ARTIE-POO, to be honest…” Sybil whines before tackling her boytoy to the pavement!

“Think about it, Stan–is Boris REALLY that bad?” Tucker asks, rubbing his bearded chin in contemplation.

“Tuck’s right! Remember when he helped us out before? Dude risked his life for us!” Eddie adds in his usual cheerful tone, earning a confident nod from Kiki!

“You’ve kinda been a jerk too, Stan.” Gus states as he performs donuts on his bike. “Maybe you should just be nicer.”

“Yea!” Talbot exclaims! “You ever considered that maybe YOU’RE the dick?!”

“M-m-maybe if we g-got to know him better…” Denise suggests as her sweat creates a pond at her trembling feet. TYPICAL DENISE!

>CONTD.

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>>5131609
At a loss for words for once in your life, you watch as your friends march towards Boris’ foot and MERGE with it! Stupefied, you feel all hope drain from you as Boris grows taller with each friend he absorbs! When his head sits comfortably above the clouds, your co-worker gives you that horrible, gut-wrenching, smug grin of his!

“THE MORE THINGS CHANGE, THE MORE THEY STAY THE SAME, HUH STAN? HOW DOES IT FEEL KNOWING THAT EVERYTHING, EVEN FRIENDSHIP, IS TEMPORARY?”

Before you can respond, Boris leans his massive head in closer! “SERIOUSLY, TELL ME–I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA HOW THAT FEELS! BECAUSE OF ALL THE FRIENDS I HAVE! BWA HA HA HA! HOME RUN!”

Feeling your lower lip begin to tremble, you feel a profound emptiness spread through you as you stare out towards the horizon where the void of space is just barely kept out by the few layers of Earth’s atmosphere. H-how does it feel?

You take a deep, clarifying breath as you wrestle with the giant’s words. It feels-

BLZOOOOOOOOWWW!
…Tingly?

You and Boris both freeze as a wave of green light washes over you and swiftly shrinks the latter to his normal, but still somewhat tall, size! Collapsing onto the pavement, you watch in horror as your fellow janitor spits each of your friends out of his mouth like a pitching machine! As your friends land on the pavement one by one, you feel the distinct tingle of static electricity around you as a circular metallic object descends with a teeth-rattling drone!

Peering through the green light with squinted eyes, you can just barely make out a humanoid shape descending from above–one clad in some sort of officer’s garb?

“MINNASAN–KONNICHIWA! HISASHIBURI DA NE?”

Your heart skips a beat. Then another! Touching down on the pavement with a graceful ‘click’, the owner of the immaculately-shined riding boots in front of you turns your way and extends a hand clad in elbow-length gloves whiter than snow! “STAN-CHAN… YOU’RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY WE FIRST MET…”

“Wh-what the hell is THAT?!” Boris squeaks as he begins clawing at the ground for a way out!

It’s HIM, you whisper… UCHUUJIN GAMUGO! You KNEW he was real! Gently rapping his knuckles on your head, PROFESSOR Gamugo laughs at you in a soothing voice.

“OF COURSE I AM… BAKA!”

…You just LOVE it when he says that word…

>CONTD.

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>>5131611
You’re about to melt on the pavement when you spot a flash of movement behind the alien–it’s BORIS! Offering you a hand, the alien is too preoccupied to notice your immortal foe about to deliver a haymaker to the back of his perfectly-sculpted locks! Before you can warn him, however, Professor Gamugo waves his hand in the air, causing his spacecraft’s beam to recenter itself on his would-be attacker!

“Wh-wh-wha?!” Boris mutters, trying and failing to move! “L-let me go! H-h-HOLDING! FIVE-YARD PENALTY!”

Continuing to stare deeply into your now saucer-sized eyes, your rescuer flicks his hand upwards, sending your co-worker drifting towards the ship! Flailing in vain, Boris shrieks like a schoolgirl as each and every one of his hairs slowly disintegrate in the beam! As your foe disappears screaming into the spaceship’s tractor beam, the ship’s owner helps you to your feet before kneeling in front of you!

“STAN-CHAN,” He begins, his white officer’s garb fluttering majestically in a cherry blossom-choked breeze, “I’VE SEARCHED FAR AND WIDE FOR THE ULTIMATE VIDEO GAME… BUT WHAT I’VE REALLY BEEN LOOKING FOR… IS YOU!”

You just barely manage to suck back up the drool building up in your mouth. Oh my god, you hiss to no one in particular, Oh my GOOOOOD!

Smiling at you with an otherworldly twinkle in his eye, Gamugo grips your hand tighter in his as your friends gather around you to watch! “STAN-CHAN… WOULD YOU… WILL YOU SCOUR THE GALAXY… AT MY SIDE? FOR GAMES?”

YES, you gush, barely holding back your tears! A MILLION times yes!

“AND,” He continues, “CAN I… CAN I MAKE OUT WITH YOU? WITH TONGUE?”

Collapsing into his outstretched arms with a crazed ‘HELL YES’, you immediately get to work while your friends stand in a circle around you and start clapping! Man, you think as you start playing tonsil-hockey with your INTERGALACTIC BOYFRIEND, things just don’t get much better than this!

>CONTD.

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>>5131613
“You’re the BEST, Stan!” Tucker shouts, prompting the others to crowd around you!

“I wish I was as COOL and GORGEOUS as you!” Mitzi adds with a smile on her face!

“Hey everyone–let’s pledge to NEVER DITCH STAN!” Eddie exclaims!

“You’ve inspired me, Stan–I’m dumping Art! You’re all I need!” Sybil cheers, shoving Art away!

“She’s right… I was wrong, Stan–about a lot of things!” Art smiles! “Sorry I said you kidnapped me–would you like all of my GOLD COINS as an apology?”

Pausing your SMOKIN’-HOT MAKEOUT SESH for a moment, you hold out your hand for Art’s coins. Yea, you nod, it’s a START!

“We’re with you ‘til the end, Stan.” Gus drones as he, Kiki, and Denise smile your way. “And feel free to ask us for food whenever, too.”

“Truth is, Stan–I was just intimidated by you!” Talbot confesses as redness builds up in his cheeks! “I-If I’m nice to you will you pay attention to me?”

No, you laugh, stuffing your pockets with GOLD COINS in between snogging seshes! But he can totally keep simping for you!

“O-okay! I’ll do my best!” Talbot stammers with a sheepish grin on his face! Leaning closer into Gamugo, you bask in pure, unadulterated bliss as the scene around you explodes with applause, GOLD COINS, fireworks, and American flags waving proudly in the air! U S A! U S A! U S A...

U S -OOF!

Something heavy nudges you in the stomach just when Gamugo was getting handsy! Lurching upright in a drool-soaked van seat, your mind is abruptly ejected from DREAM WORLD and back into the cold, unfeeling clutches of REALITY! Damn it!

“Did you have to kick her stomach, T? She looked like she was having a really good dream!” Eddie asks in a disapproving tone.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” Talbot retorts, gesturing out the back window to the stationary parking garage around you! “Plus the SNORING was getting annoying.”

“Pretty sure she was mumbling ‘U S A’...” Tucker mutters, turning to Mitzi for confirmation.

“Yep. Didn’t know you HATED FREEDOM, T.” The tomboy adds, stuffing her magazine back into her pocket with a wry grin.

“Wait, really?” Talbot asks with wide eyes! “I mean… if she was chanting ‘U S A’ then I guess it’s cool…”

“Whatever, COMMIE.” Mitzi mutters as she leans towards you. “So Stan–ya’ gonna tell us what your dream was about, or what?”

Well…

>CONTD.

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>>5131618
Before you can respond, you hear the back doors click open next to you. “Enticing as that sounds, we should really head in.” Sybil interrupts, standing outside with an impatient look on her face. “Anywhere you wanted to head first, Stan?”

“You have a meeting with the BOSS, right?” Mitzi asks with a glimmer in her eye! “You uh… you can do that first–we’ll just wait in that PRIVATE BUNKER of yours until it’s over!”

“Private… Bunker?” Talbot asks, interest clearly piqued.

“Yea, man–it’s got a game room, a fully-stocked kitchen, a pool-”

“Ed,” Talbot interrupts, placing a hand on the film student’s shoulder, “You had me at ‘Game Room.”

Wait, you’re here already? In that case you’d like to check out…
>THE COMMONS! THEY HAVE SHOPS AND ALL SORTS OF KOOKY CHARACTERS THERE!
>THE CANTEEN! YOU WANT SOME FOOD AND A DRINK, DAMN IT!
>THE MEDICAL WING! YOU’RE DUE A CHECKUP WITH DR. DEVON!
>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!
>YOUR PRIVATE BUNKER! YOU MISS THAT ROOM, MAN!
>SECURITY! MIGHT WANNA SEE WHAT THE FUSS ABOUT DENISE IS!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5131620
>>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!

>>5131620
>>THE MEDICAL WING! YOU’RE DUE A CHECKUP WITH DR. DEVON!

>>5131620
Holy shit, I screwed up that second-to-last post, like, eight times, so I think we're done writing updates for tonight! Should have more SATURDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST, though! Hope to see you then!

>>5131620
>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!

This has ought to be interesting.

>>5131620
>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!

>>5131620
>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!

>>5131620
>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!

>>5131621
>>5131634
>>5131635
>>5131687
>>5131752
>BRUNCH WITH BOSS!

>>5131622
>CHECK UP AND CHECK UP!

Writing! Sorry, day kinda ran away from me!

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>>5132748
Given what little you know of your mysterious employer, you inform your merry band of misfits that you’ll be heading to that meeting first–who knows what’ll happen if you keep them waiting!

“Yea, firing you just wouldn’t have the same ‘oomph’ given all that’s happened, would it?” Tucker remarks with a bemused look on his face.

“Considering they detain people indefinitely on a whim, I’m sure they can think of much worse things than letting you go…” Art shrugs. “Good call, Stan.”

“Hell yea!” Mitzi nods, grinning ear to ear! “That PRIVATE BUNKER is on the way, too–you spoil us!”

Yea, you shrug, you ARE pretty cool, aren’t you? Heading in through the SECURITY STATION’S garage entrance, you just barely avoid smacking a security goon in the face with the door! Balancing a tower of steaming beverages atop a stack of files, the guard yelps as his stack slowly teeters to one side!

“AAACK! Watch where you’re going, damn it!”

Barely managing to steady his quarry, the goon lets out a drawn-out and very annoyed sigh as he looks you and your crew over. “Well, well, well… guess this means I’m still covering the front desk, Muldoon?”

“Yep!” Mitzi replies in a chipper tone as she motions everyone in! “You’re a doll, Derek!”

“I’ll remember this, you know…” Derek mutters under his breath as your crew awkwardly skirts around his stack of crap. “Once I’m in management–ooh, you’ll ALL be sorry…”

“Wait a minute–you’re a SECRETARY?” Talbot asks in an incredulous tone as you continue down the hall towards the elevators.

“What can I say? A girl’s gotta’ have talents.” Mitzi shrugs as she presses the CALL ELEVATOR buttons. “Did you know that Stan’s an EVENING SANITATION COORDINATOR? When she’s not busting heads and breaking hearts, that is!”

“Yea, uh… I knew that already.” Grunts your fellow janitor.

“What was dat’ about ‘breakin’ hearts?’” Ly asks before the elevator doors open with a pleasant ding! Well, you shrug, you ARE a bit of a heartbreaker!

“Uh-huh. An’ I’m a walrus...”

>CONTD.

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>>5132967
Squeezing into one of the elevators with Art, Syb, Talbot, and Eddie, the latter is the first to break the ice as you feel your ride descend into the Earth. “So… you have any idea what your meeting with the boss will be like?”

“I’ll admit I’m a bit curious as well…” Sybil adds, face scrunched up in thought. “One would think they’d have quite a bit riding on this situation given all of the manpower and the preparations they’ve made…”

If it’s anything like last time, you reply with a shrug, you’ll probably talk about lobsters and cults or something–Bali…

“I think I’ve seen ‘em once or twice at a few events.” Talbot mutters to himself. “Kinda kooky. Think they had an eyepatch or something, too.”

Oh yea? Did they have a peg leg and glowing yellow eyes too? Come o-

Before you can finish your teasing, a wave of nausea splashes over you, Talbot, and Syb that sends all three of you crashing to the elevator’s floor!

“Damn it–that part ALWAYS sneaks up on me!” Art growls as he promptly helps Syb back up. Assisted by Eddie, you feel a little bad when Talbot has to get up by himself. But, you know, not SUPER bad.

“Wha…” He slurs, bracing himself against the wall, “Whadda hell’s thish?”

“A MAGICAL… BARRIER…” Sybil explains through clenched teeth. “Curt’s ORDER erected it… to defend against… intruders…”

While Eddie holds you steady by your shoulders, Talbot stares off into space for a few moments before sputtering back to reality! “... Damn… Those… Those guys actually did something?”

Yea, you groan, you can barely believe it either! It’s alright though, you continue as you feel your equilibrium come back to you, you get over it after a few minutes! Watching Talbot take a bit longer to recover than you or Sybil, you add a smug grin to the end of your statement. If, that is, you’re not a WUSS, that is!

“Wuss?” Groans your ex-bodyguard as he shakes off the barrier’s effects, “This… this is nothing--I’ve had worse!”

Feeling the elevator’s descent slow down, you take a position in front of the doors and respond with a menacing giggle–don’t think that you’re safe just because you’re in a bunker, you warn! Danger appears when you least expect-

Before you can finish, a meaty gloved hand rips through the opening doors and clasps around your neck!

“PARBLE!” Roars a voice you were happy to avoid hearing for a few updates now, “YER’ LATE!”

Hi again… BLUMENKRANTZ, you choke…

>CONTD.

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>>5132973
https://youtu.be/tY_kfFnyoic
“DON’T GET CHUMMY WITH ME, YOU GOBLIN!” Snaps the mountain of a man as he tears you out of the lift where your friends and a squad of armed security officers wait, the latter with their weapons drawn! “YOU MIGHT THINK YER’ ‘HOT PISS’ BECAUSE YOU’VE SMASHED SOME BONES, BUT NO ONE–NOT YOU, NOT ME, NOT EVEN GOD HIMSELF KEEPS THE CEO WAITING!”

Trampling the guards foolish enough to not get out of his path, the Chief of Security drags you along the ground like a toddler holding a stuffed animal towards the CENTRAL ELEVATOR! “Officers: let her fruity little CHEER SQUAD go… but feel free to fill ‘em full of holes if they so much as SNEEZE the wrong way!”

Blanching at his words, Kiki slaps her hands over her nose before a sneeze can come out! Close one!

“Errr… We’ll uh… we’ll catch you later, Stan!” Tucker shouts as you and Blumenkrantz leave the ENTRY ZONE. Thanks, guys, you hiss through a still-squished throat, really saved the day…

“Things will be a little different than last time, rodent!” Blumenkrantz hisses through clenched teeth as he stomps into the bunker’s MAIN SHAFT where several freight elevators wait to be boarded, “But you’re still expected to be on your BEST behavior, whatever the hell THAT is!”

Seeing the cantankerous old man approaching the elevator, a handful of maintenance workers and security guards dart to safety! Mashing a massive finger into the button marked ‘ADMIN,’, Blumenkrantz waits until the lift lurches to life before letting you drop to the ground like a sack of oranges. Massaging your aching throat, you can’t help but look at him in confusion–he’s being a LOT more gentle than usual today!

“CAN IT!” He snarls as he takes a long puff from his cigar! “... So… how was JOPLIN?”

Rather than answer right away, you pinch yourself on the arm a few times just to be sure you aren’t dreaming. Is he actually asking you a CASUAL QUESTION?

“ANSWER, DAMN IT, OR I’LL CHUCK YOU INTO THAT SHAFT!” Roars the Chief of Security!

Well, uh… if you had to answer…

>IT WAS KINDA LAME, ACTUALLY!
>YOU THOUGHT IT WAS PRETTY COOL!
>YOU DUNNO–IT WAS WEIRD WITH ALL THE SKELETON COWBOYS AND STUFF!
>WAIT, WHY IS HE ASKING YOU THIS? IS THIS A TEST?
>WRITE-IN!

>>5132976
>>WAIT, WHY IS HE ASKING YOU THIS? IS THIS A TEST?

>>5132976
>>YOU DUNNO–IT WAS WEIRD WITH ALL THE SKELETON COWBOYS AND STUFF!
Something makes me think he's got a tie to the place

>>5132976
>YOU DUNNO–IT WAS WEIRD WITH ALL THE SKELETON COWBOYS AND STUFF!

>>5132976
Booze, parties, and cards. It was pretty nifty.

>>5132986
>>5133023
>IS THIS A TEST!?

>>5133004
>PRETTY WACKY, BLUM.

>>5133233
>NOT A BAD TIME IN THE LEAST!

Writing!

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>>5133414
Before you even bother answering, you scramble away to the other side of the massive cargo elevator before replying: this… this is a test, right? It’s gotta be a test!

“Yea…” Ly mumbles, still dazed from passing through the MAGICAL BARRIER surrounding the bunker, “It’s definitely a test! Careful, Stan!”

Ready to dart to either side at a moment’s notice, you’re taken off-guard when the cigar-chomping behemoth standing across from you responds for once not with violence, but with an irritated sigh!

“Nrggh… My… My ole’ man took me there a few times when I was a kid, is all.” Still not punching you, Blumenkrantz turns away to sneer in contempt at the other elevators heading up and down the shaft. “When I heard some jumped-up SKELETAL COWPOKE was terrorizing the place, well…”

Shaking his head in disgust, the Chief of Security shoots you a disdainful look. “Maybe you’re not as HOPELESS as you look, Parble!”

Returning to his previously-scheduled snarling and cigar smoking, Blumenkrantz leaves you poised to dodge on the other end of the lift with your heart beating like a jackhammer! Did… were you supposed to die just now? What happened?!

“I dunno, but don’t even THINK of wastin’ it!” Ly warns, prompting you to stay quietly where you are! He doesn’t have to tell you twice–sh-should you take a picture, though? Just to commemorate this moment?

“Normally I’d say nah, but dis’ kinda behavior is rarer den’ BALLY’S COMET comin’ around… Go for it!”

Your fingers barely graze your phone before you hear a low, wary growl coming from the living statue sharing the elevator with you. Nope, you squeak, you’ll hold off for now…

When the elevator grinds to a halt outside the entrance to the ADMIN WING, it’s back to business as usual! Stomping on ahead, you easily keep up as the crowds of refugees and Good Boy Personnel clear the way for the Head of Security! Maintaining a safe distance from your escort, your ears pick up fragments of whispered conversations from the folk around you:

“... is that her?..”
“... taking down skeletons…”
“... kinda tiny, isn’t she?”
“... MAN that’s a huge racc-! Wait…”

Biting your lip as the conversations continue, you can’t help but feel a little excited as you continue deeper into the facility. FINALLY, you grin, the respect and FEAR that you deserve!

“KEEP MOVING, FREAK!”

Alright, SHEESH--he could learn a thing or two from these jerks, that’s for sure!

>CONTD.

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>>5133838
“For the time being, all magical energy and enchantments on your person will be temporarily NULLIFIED. Do y-”

Yep, yep, YEP, you groan, motioning for the ORDER ACOLYTE in front of you to speed things along! You already know what Blumenkrantz will do if you actually stop to, y’know, THINK about it!

“Then quit wasting time or I’ll help you decide AGAIN!” Blumenkrantz snarls, prompting the security goons monitoring the metal detector to work faster in inspecting your items! Giving a pleasant wave to DAISY THE SECURITY DOG, you feel yet ANOTHER wave of dizziness wash over you as the Order member dramatically waves his hands at you. Damn it, you groan as you land face-first on the metal floor, not AGAIN…

Peeling yourself off the ground, a large hand grips you by the scruff of your neck and marches you through the door at the end of the SECURITY TUNNEL. Passing by the desk you were strapped into the last time you were down here, you can’t help but feel a bit uneasy when Blumenkrantz skips the desk entirely and takes you through the door beyond that room!

“Not this time, Parble… the boss wants to see you IN PERSON!
https://youtu.be/Jn4R04SdHeU
I-I-IN PUH-PUH-PERSON?! Frantically adjusting your hair with whatever reflection you can find, you and Blumenkrantz both pause in front of a long, winding hallway that extends deeper into the installation. Wait a minute–it goes DEEPER?!?

Not bothering to respond, The Head of Security pulls out a hidden panel in the wall revealing a keypad nestled between several different sensors! One typed code, one scan through his shades, one muffled keyword and one simply superb piano concerto on a small keyboard later, the corridor…

…Does nothing...

“As much as I’d LOVE to demonstrate what happens to unauthorized guests here,” Blumenkrantz explains with a wicked chuckle, “You and I both are on a tight schedule! Move it!”

Following the snaking corridor for a few minutes, you finally arrive at yet ANOTHER elevator! Traipsing on in with an annoyed sigh, you can still feel the buzz of the Order mage’s spell in your head when Blumenkrantz turns your way with an even MORE serious look on his face!

“Listen, Parble, and listen good: I don’t like this setup whatsoever, but if the boss wants it, that’s what they get!”

You wave him off and nod. Yea, yea, you know he’s gonna kill you if you mess up even o-

“You don’t get it, Stanley, so let me elucidate the point for you: do NOT do anything stupid in there. Don’t even THINK of it.”

Searching the old man’s facet, you slowly decipher Blumenkrantz’ meaning:

He’s… afraid of the boss, isn’t he?

Before he can answer, the elevator doors open in front of you with a pleasant ding…

>CONTD.

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>>5133842
https://youtu.be/_bIiXPPEm4A
Still reeling from the spell earlier, the sudden flash of bright lights stuns you as the elevator doors open! Stumbling out of the lift, you rub your eyes as the fuzz around you slowly takes shape…

The foyer’s color is decidedly modern–pieced together with a blend of plants, masonry, and metal, whoever designed it was clearly aiming for some sort of ‘controlled chaos’ look, and totally NAILED IT.

Curtains of zig-zagging metal border the foyer–their snake-like forms dangling lazily like vines on a tree. On closer inspection, you see that they aren’t snakes at all, but bones--thousands of metal bones creating a macabre barrier between the entryway and further in! Dwarfing them all, however, is the massive GOOD BOY MASCOT SCULPTURE hanging over the lobby like a commercialized Sword of Damocles!

Before you or Blumenkrantz can take a step further, your nose picks up something else–something fishy, hot, and possibly slathered in butter.

“Well don’t spend all day at the door–come in!”

Jumping at the sudden voice, you barely recover from the shock before a section of the wall slides upwards and creates a passage leading inward!

“Remember what I said, Parble.” Blumenkrantz hisses as he backs into the elevator. Before you can stop him, the doors slam shut leaving you with only one path left.

Ahead.

You step lightly on the way over as if you were walking on a bubble… or extremely thin ice. Hearing your footsteps echo throughout the villa, you hear a faint series of coughs as you round the corner into… a yard?!

Well, it looks like one, at least. Stepping onto soft, artificial turf that you swear could almost be the real thing, your mouth goes agape as you spot a glass patio table illuminated by candlelight underneath a ceiling glittering with clouds and stars! Just past the table sits a rocky pool–its water slowly cycling through different hues to match the ‘sky’ above.

But what takes the cake isn’t the pool. Or the decor. Or the sky. What really throws you for a loop is the soft whir of wheels cutting across the turf and the masked figure sitting limp in the chair the wheels are attached to…

“Stanley Parble…” wheezes a weak, but familiar voice from behind the respirator, “You finally made it…”

>CONTD.

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>>5133846
You nearly fail to respond. Sputtering a quick ‘yep’, you utter a quiet ‘d’oh’ under your breath as the wheelchair-bound figure fills the room with a raspy, but amused laugh!

“I know, I know… not quite the strapping, young capitalist you imagined, am I?”

You hate to say it, but yea... wrapped in an admittedly-trendy white trench coat, SONNY--or SUNNY, resembles someone you’d see in a retirement home… or a sick ward! With pale skin rivaling Art’s, long, slicked-back blonde hair with bangs covering the telltale straps of an eyepatch, and an androgenous face, you’d be hard-pressed to connect the jovial, energetic voice you talked to over the phone with this frail thing!

“A thousand apologies, Stanley–if I had known exactly when you were coming I’d have finished, well, preparing myself for you! You wouldn’t believe how hard it is preening and prepping for guests these days…”

Accidentally staring at how one of your boss’ coat sleeves droops limply at their side, you quickly turn your attention elsewhere… and accidentally notice the same thing on Sonny’s legs. D’oh!

“No need to be skittish, Stanley–I’ve been stared at my whole life… not that yours is unwelcome, of course!” Laughing softly at their joke, the yard fills with the sound of a rush of air coursing through a tube connected to the base of Sunny’s mask. Breathing the gas out again with an exultant sigh of relief, your host’s remaining yellow eye glows green with pulsating energy!

“There we are,” they chirp, “nice and perky… much better than COFFEE, that’s for sure! Now then,” your boss continues, gesturing to the table, “I believe I promised you some lobster, didn’t I?”

Your brain takes a few minutes to catch up as you wordlessly pull out a chair and take a seat. Taking a place on the opposite end, Sonny leans forward with interest and cocks their head your way.

“Well Stanley--I’d be lying if I said I haven’t looked forward to this day! Cinnamon is one of my favorite scents, you know!”

You blink. Wha? Oh, that. Yea, you shrug, some demon idol sneezed that onto you back when you were fighting the pirates. It’s pretty neat.

“Just another day in the life, hm?” Your boss laughs! “And to think only a few days ago you were mopping up bone dust! I always did have an eye for talent…” Drumming the fingers of their remaining hand on the glass, Sunny raises an eyebrow your way. “Which reminds me–I’ve been listening to your reports, Stanley–well, yours and Boris’, among others…”

BORIS, you shout, shaking your fist in the artificial air! Here’s the thing, you begin, Boris is a dirty rat-

“One moment, if you please–I think I hear brunch arriving!”

Pausing for the moment, you follow the scent of melted butter as the culprit arrives on a squeaky-wheeled metal cart…

>CONTD.

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>>5133848
Momentarily distracted by the platters of steaming-hot shellfish and sides, it takes you a moment to realize that someone’s actually PUSHING the cart! It takes you even longer to realize that you know exactly who it is!

“Calling it ‘mouth-watering’ wouldn’t do it justice, Christy.” Croons your boss as the tight-lipped secretary begins transferring the dishes to the table! Catching your eye for a moment through her circular spectacles, you just barely notice a change in her blank expression–what the change was, however, is unclear!

“Well don’t be shy--say hello!” Drumming their fingers expectantly on the table, a pleasant smile forms behind your boss’ mask as Christy glances between the two of you with increasing anxiety! Just when things get awkward, Sonny dispels it all with a well-timed laugh!

“I’m sorry, you two–I aimed for a joke, but I suppose it didn’t land, did it?” Wheeling over to Christy’s still-uncomfortable side, Sunny shakes their head in shame! “My, my, where HAVE my manners gone today? You’ll have to excuse the cold reception–Stanley… you see, Christy here had a bit of an accident in the past–one that left her vocal chords somewhat scrambled!”

As your brain slowly connects the dots, Sonny gives the girl a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “She’s damn good at everything else, though! Booking appointments, collecting data, cooking a meal–I know she’s Blumenkrantz’ PA, of course, but with a skillset like that how could I not borrow her every now and again?”

Giving her employer a polite smile, Christy moves like a ghost around the table to serve you a plate of lobster, shredded brussel sprouts, and a hefty portion of mashed potatoes. As her gaze lingers on your face for a bit too long for comfort, the personal assistant gives Sunny a quick bow before retreating in through the passage she entered from.

“Now then,” your boss continues in a soft, but firm tone, “We’ve got quite a bit to talk about, you and I, but you must be absolutely famished!” Gesturing to the plate in front of you, Sonny motions for you to go ahead. “Go on, Stanley–dig in! I won’t take no for an answer!” Pausing to give you a long, hard stare with their glowing eye, your boss breaks the spell with a mischievous wink! “Or will I? Don’t worry about me–I’m on more of a liquid diet these days! Glug glug!”

Staring at the bouquet of lavish food in front of you, how do you proceed?
>YEA, DIG IN! SMELLS GREAT!
>NNNAH, YOU’RE GOOD!
>ERRR, WHY DON’T WE TALK A BIT FIRST WHILE IT COOLS DOWN?
>WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT JUST NOW?
>WRITE-IN!

>>5133855
>>ERRR, WHY DON’T WE TALK A BIT FIRST WHILE IT COOLS DOWN?

Oh hey was that the girl I strangled at that party? Good times, amirite?

>>5133855
>YEA, DIG IN! SMELLS GREAT!

That's it for tonight, folks--got plans in a bit and have some Sunday morning as well! Can't promise an update until SUNDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST. Might be a little earlier/later than that, but we'll see! Thanks for playing!

>>5133855
>>ERRR, WHY DON’T WE TALK A BIT FIRST WHILE IT COOLS DOWN?

>>5133862
>>5133974
>LET'S LET IT COOL DOWN A LITTLE!

>>5133869
>FUCK YES, FREE FOOD!

I've got a little bit of time this morning before running off for the afternoon, so les' do it! Also fun fact: Bones is now over 1800 pages long on Docs! Thanks for the support, boneheads!

Writing!

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>>5134505
Twirling the silver fork between your fingers, you can’t help but hesitate a bit at the mouth-watering feast placed in front of you. For FREE, even!

“Not to worry, Stanley–I’m sure he lived a very fulfilling lobster life-”

The food ain’t the problem, you interrupt as you place the fork back onto the table! What’s the big idea bringing in the girl you apparently strangled at that party? AND cooking you brunch?

Sunny cocks their head to the side with an amused look on their masked face. “Why, to get revenge, of course! Fair’s fair, right?”

Pushing away from the table, your boss fills the garden area with another round of laughter! Slapping their thigh, Sonny shakes their head as they recover from the laughing fit. “Or maybe… maybe I wanted to prove a point? Or perhaps Christy’s just a superstar and can cook a mean lobster? Take it from management, sweetheart–staffing a kitchen is murder these days…”

Your brow furrows involuntarily as impatience wells up within you. You’re gonna go with B: PROVING A POINT. As the words escape your lips, Sunny taps the tines of their own fork on the side of the glass table to produce a ringing sound!

“What can I say? I’m predictable!” Releasing a ‘you got me’ sigh, your boss shrugs as a fresh burst of gas enters their mask tube. “You’re starting to know me a bit too well, Stanley–play your cards right and you’ll get to know even MORE, you dog, you!” Shooting you a mischievous wink across the table, the boss clears their throat before adopting a more serious tone.

“Not to worry, Stan–besides rending her larynx into a jelly, your erm… accident conveniently left her too traumatized to clearly remember the event–quite convenient for all parties involved, wouldn’t you agree?”

Bolting upright from your chair, you jab an accusatory finger in your employer’s direction–Are they crazy or WHAT?! What the hell does that prove, anyways?!

“What it proves, Stanley, is that when life gives you lemons, be they rotting, unripe, or infested with parasites, a bit of gumption and the right hand can make the sweetest lemonade.” They reply in a pleasant tone. “Other people might not see it–hell, they might even give up on you, but I do and I won’t--you, Christy, Blumenkrantz, hell, everyone at this company has their quirks! All I ask is that you have faith in how we utilize them, is all!”

Still not convinced, you ask what their quirk is, earning another laugh from your boss.

“HA! We don’t have nearly enough time to list all of those! Speaking of, Stanley, I know you’ve got a schedule to keep, so let’s get down to brass tacks…”

What’s next on the agenda?
>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>THE TRAITOR!
>MISSING PERSONNEL!
>SONNY/SUNNY’S INJURIES AND CONDITIONS!
>YOUR FUTURE WITH THE COMPANY!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5134713
>MISSING PERSONNEL!

>>5134713
>>MISSING PERSONNEL!
>>YOUR BLACKOUTS!

>>5134713
>MISSING PERSONNEL!

>>5134728
>>5134777
>>5134800
>MISSING PERSONNEL!

>>5134777
>BLACKOUTS!

Writing a quick update or two before getting ready for tomorrow--HOLD ONTA' SOMETHIN'!

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“First thing’s first–take a look underneath your napkin.”

Errr, alright… Taking a seat again and removing the napkin from its place on the table, you spot a trio of photographs underneath! As you pick them up to examine them further, a grim story forms inside of your head–one that only corroborates what you’ve already heard!

“Despite making significant headway in clearing out the UNDEAD HORDES from CLEARWATER, all is not well, as you’re no doubt already aware.”

Listening to your boss’ explanation, you examine the first photograph for any specific clues to latch on to. Depicting an abandoned GOOD BOY APC, anyone else would assume that the riders had just gotten out and left for a pee break–running engines, opened doors, lit headlights–all signs point to no fight of any kind…

“Besides those goddamn looters popping up left and right, the disappearing employee issue has come to a head–At first Blumenkrantz and I had chalked it up to them just ‘quitting’, so to speak–laziness or poor moral fiber, perhaps–why be a security guard when you can be a bandit, right?”

I mean, you mutter as you flip to the next picture showing some blood-speckled drag marks cutting into a hedge, it’s a decent question, right?

“A brief stint in highway banditry and a screaming death versus GENEROUS HAZARD PAY, ROLLOVER PTO, and ALL THE DOGGIE BONES YOU COULD ASK FOR... No, sweetheart, it isn’t. Don’t be a retard.”

Moving on to the last picture with a noncommittal shrug, you find yourself staring at a picture of several GOOD BOY SECURITY GOONS posing in front of a familiar sign depicting a clown about to deepthroat a three-scoop cone of ice cream. What was that place called again?

“BIG TOP CREAMERY, if what our security operatives say is true.” Your boss answers. THAT’S the one! “If you know the name then you know that the establishment is uncomfortably close to THE LODGE… practically ‘down the street’ to use the parlance of our times!”

Damn, you think to yourself, you really oughta’ grab a scoop or two with the gang once you’re outta’ here!

>CONTD.

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>>5135889
Stuffing the pictures into your SWEATY FUR COAT for safekeeping, you direct your attention back to your boss. You already know that people are going missing around here, you groan, can they give you anything USEFUL for a change?!

“Stanley, stick close to me and I’ll give you everything you want, need, and deserve–starting with a hot tip from a surviving operative!” Taking another breath from their mask, Sonny runs a hand through their slicked-back hair.

“Using his testimony and several ‘bait’ vehicles, we’ve determined that whoever, or whatever is making off with company property is only doing so when the victims are in SMALL GROUPS. Larger convoys and bigger teams get through without a scratch, but our logistics and supply operators are taking the brunt of whatever the hell’s going on. Lots of simoleons falling through our fingers, Stanley. A lot of cheddar.”

Adjusting their GOOD BOY TIE, Sonny looks you in the eye with grim determination. “I won’t mince words here–I know you’re our best bet for putting this issue to bed. Our other teams are too busy fighting BANDITS, SKELETON STRAGGLERS, AND WILD DOGS, so I leave it in your VERY capable hands.” Punctuating the sentence with an apologetic shrug, your employer continues. “It’s most-likely separate from your standing objectives with the LIEUTENANTS AND LICH, but you’d be making a lot of people happy taking care of this situation, Stan. Especially me…”

Averting your eyes from your boss’ suggestive wink, you instead give Sunny a thumb’s up of approval–just roam around in a small group, huh? Sounds peachy!”

“Believe me, it’ll be much more than that if you succeed…” Purrs your boss as they lean back in their wheelchair with a pleased look on their masked face! “Remember what I said about BALI earlier, Stanley? Pull this off and you might want to start shopping for towels…”

You’re pretty sure your GAMUGO COMMEMORATIVE TOWEL is waiting for you back at your apartment, so you’re basically ready to board now! After this SKELETON SHIT blows over, that is!

>CONTD.

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>>5135891
“GOOD BOY thanks you for your hard work, trust me!” Your boss replies with a grin in their tone! “BLUMENKRANTZ can brief you if you require any further tactical information or equipment for the operation.” Stifling a dry cough, your employer cocks their head to the side. “Now then–there are a few more topics I’d like to breach, but I know you must have questions too. Is there anything that calls out to you at the moment?”

Before you can answer, Sunny glances briefly at your meal. “Might want to dig into that soon, as well–you wouldn’t believe how quickly bacteria settles into shellfish! Yuck!”

If you had to choose…
>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>THE TRAITOR!
>BORIS AND HIS CREW!
>SONNY/SUNNY’S INJURIES AND CONDITIONS!
>YOUR FUTURE WITH THE COMPANY!
>NOPE, YOU’RE GOOD FOR NOW! TIME TO GO!
>WRITE-IN!

Also,

>DIG INTO MEAL!
>DON’T DIG INTO MEAL!
>GIVE SONNY/SUNNY A SPOONFUL!
>SAY YOU’RE ALLERGIC TO SHELLFISH!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5135895
That's all for tonight, folks--today kinda got swept away! Should have more MONDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Have a good start to your week!

>>5135895
>>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>YOUR FUTURE WITH THE COMPANY!

>DIG INTO MEAL!

He must know something about the blackouts cause the color associated with Wild Magic this whole quest has been green.

>>5135895
>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>YOUR FUTURE WITH THE COMPANY!
>DIG IN!

Something tells me that anything they could've done to our meal would be pointless, because they easily could have done something else to us if they wanted to. Might as well eat, even if my gut instinct tells me not to.

>>5135904
>Spoiler
Solid reasoning.

I think we should ask Blumenkrantz if he knows anything about Mitzi's dad and the National Guard Armory nearby. He was a 'Nam Vet, right? He might've had a few contacts in the army still. Maybe he'll know something.

I also think we should take Talbot to see Denise, since she knows the most about his conditions. Might be able to improve his abilities, even.

>>5135895
>>5135912 +1

>>5135895
>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>DIG INTO MEAL!

>>5135895
>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>YOUR FUTURE WITH THE COMPANY!
>DIG INTO MEAL!
I mean, we did say we'd trust him so it'd just look suspicious if we didn't eat anything. also its free food so why the hell not.

>>5135904
>>5135912
>>5135985
>>5136545
>BLACKOUTS!
>FUTURE WITH COMPANY!
>DIG IN!

>>5135994
>BLACKOUTS!
>DIG IN!

Looks like we're going for THE TRIPLE TROUBLE, folks. Hold onto your hats! WRITING!

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Well, you begin, poking at the feast in front of you with your fork, since you’ve got them on the line and all, why don’t we talk about the FUTURE?

… with the COMPANY, that is! Lord knows you’ve earned a raise by now!

“Yes,” Sonny nods, watching you play with your food with interest, “I think you’ve earned one too!” Leaning closer from the opposite end of the table, your boss shoots you a conspiratorial grin. “I won’t lie, Stan--if anyone’s going to come out on top of all this, it’s GOOD BOY. In the absence of any real law enforcement or government aid, we have acted as the sole saviors of CLEARWATER’S huddled masses… what do you say about that?”

You shrug as you shovel some mashed potatoes into your mouth. Ooh, garlicky!

“My thoughts exactly.” Replies your boss with a look of pride on their masked face! “Even without this… setback, our brand is more popular than ever–my father started this business with little more than a few bones, a shack in his yard, and the help of a heretical cult.” Punctuating the last bit with a laugh, Sonny dramatically throws their remaining arm out to the side! “And look at it now, Stanley: products in every store across the states… and the globe! Stock! Investors! And that’s not even scraping the surface of the other pies we’ve got our fingers poking into…”

Watching you eat for a moment, Sunny lets out a long, pleased sigh. “You must have seen them all by now, though–our labs, the private military, our holdings on Mars-”

Wait, what?

“Just a joke, Stanley–gotta make sure you’re still listening… or was it?” Raising an eyebrow at you, your boss waves the topic away with their hand. “I don’t see the point in hiding how much you fascinate me, Stanley, so I won’t–I’ve never been one to beat around the bush.” Rolling over to your side of the table, Sunny takes a moment to stare deeply into your eyes. “Once this situation is dealt with, only GOOD BOY will stand tall amidst the ashes…and when it’s all said and done, Stanley, I can give you ANYTHING.”

The green aura around their eyes is almost… mesmerizing.

“So the question is, what DO you want your future to be?”

You take another quick forkful of potatoes to think up an appropriate answer! Damn it, you should have looked up salaries before this!

>IS THAT PERSONAL ASSISTANT POSITION STILL OPEN?
>YOU SEE YOURSELF BEHIND THEIR DESK!
>YOU WANT A CUSHY JOB WITH LOTS OF TRAVEL, PEOPLE TO BOSS AROUND, AND EXPENSE ACCOUNTS!
>YOU’VE BEEN WANTING TO GIVE THE WHOLE ‘GOLD-DIGGER’ THING A TRY SINCE THREAD 1, ACTUALLY!
>YOU LIKE BUSTING HEADS–MAYBE SECURITY?
>YOU WANNA KEEP BEING A JANITOR… BUT, LIKE, MASTER JANITOR!
>YOU KINDA WANNA GO TO COLLEGE!
>WRITE-IN!

>>5137058
>>YOU SEE YOURSELF BEHIND THEIR DESK!

This but with SUPREME JANITORIAL RIGHTS.

>>5137058
>>YOU WANNA KEEP BEING A JANITOR… BUT, LIKE, MASTER JANITOR!
I sense fae intrusion, damn faeries.

>>5137066
>BEHIND THEIR DESK WITH SUPREME JANITORIAL RIGHTS!

>>5137070
>MASTER JANITOR!

Gonna mix these together to speed shit up--seems pretty Stanny to me. Writing!

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Choking down your food, you sputter out the first answer your systems can put together: you wanna be in their seat!

“Oh?” Muses your boss with interest!

Well, sorta, you backpedal! You wouldn’t mind being THE BOSS, but you don’t really wanna go to meetings or do any work, you know?

“Believe me, Stan–I’ve been very busy lately… but I think I know what you’re getting at.”

Fidgeting under Sonny’s bemused gaze, your mind goes into freefall as you continue adding pieces: but you don’t wanna be a JANITOR– unless you’re, like, a MASTER JANITOR! But without all the responsibilities of being a MASTER JANITOR, get me? Maybe you could get a new suit or something. Or an assistant! So-

“MANAGEMENT. Got it.” Sonny interrupts with a snap of their fingers. “Can’t promise MY chair, of course, but play your cards right and-” A sly grin forms behind your boss’ mask. “... but I’m getting ahead of myself. You’ve certainly got the gist of things, Stan…” they continue, turning to roll back towards their side of the table. “Do your job right and the world, and all that entails, will be yours...”

The wheelchair’s parts skid to a halt as your employer looks back at you with a paralyzing stare.

“As long as you’re trustworthy, that is…”

Nearly spitting up your brussel sprouts, you chew your food a few times before replying with a confused ‘huh?’

“Trust is a… funny thing, isn’t it? Goes against everything I believe in, really.” Pacing around the yard as best they can in a wheelchair, Sonny lets out a weary, drawn-out breath.

“It can take ages to build… and seconds to break. You can devote your entire existence trying to gain someone’s trust only to see someone else receive it for nothing...”

Tentatively returning to your meal, you try to avoid your boss’ increasingly-sullen expression as you finally take a bite from the lobster. Holy SHIT!

“Good, I take it?” Sonny asks, cloudy demeanor lifting almost instantaneously! “Like I said, Stanley–I know talent when I see it! She’s not much of a conversationalist, that Christy, but she knows how to prepare a damn good meal!”

Tearing into the butter-coated shellfish, you express your approval with a satisfied ‘mmMMM!’ This tastes AMAZING!

“I’ll bet it does…” Sonny remarks, watching you with interest. “You know, Stan, all this lobster reminds me of a story!”

Great, you mutter between chews, can it wait?

“I guarantee you’ll find it interesting...”

Rolling your eyes, you motion with your fork to continue. You can’t have ANYTHING nice, can you?

>CONTD.

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>>5137237
Watching you eat with a proud look on their face, your employer returns to the head of the table. “There was an article I read the other day… before all of this happened, mind you.” Sonny explains, gesturing to the bunker around you. “A man and his wife went to his college friend’s restaurant–seafood, I believe, quite upscale. According to the author, the couple would visit the restaurant once a month.”

You blink as you stuff some more lobster into your mouth. Soundsh ‘spenshif!

“Not for them, no,” Sonny continues with a shake of their head. “Being friends, the owner of the restaurant wouldn’t DREAM of taking their money–if they paid with card, he’d have it declined. If they left some cash, he’d run after them and return it! Can you imagine?”

There is a picture forming in your head, yea! It’s kinda like you crashing on Syb’s couch!

“Exactly! Knowing their friend would refuse payment, the couple tried to order light–two waters, a basket of bread, and maybe an entree to split. Only fair, right?” A singular stifled chuckle escapes your boss’ mouth as if they remembered something funny. “But wouldn’t you know it–the waiters would take the order, as they should, then return with a plate of lobster for the mister, a seafood linguine for the lady, and a bottle of the finest malbec for them both! Uncorked, of course!”

Grabbing some more mashed potatoes, your eyelids start to grow a little heavy–is there a point to this?

“There MIGHT be!” Sunny chirps with a conspiratorial wink! “This became their routine, you see–an unspoken ritual…” Wistfully looking to the starry ceiling, the boss takes another long breath from their mask. “Anyways, here’s the good part–ready?”

Errr, you mutter as you drag some brussel sprouts through a smidgen of melted butter on your plate, go for it!

“One night, as they did countless times before, the couple came into the restaurant looking for their monthly meal. The friends hugged, a table was set, and before anyone could reach for a wallet, the food was served: I don’t need to remind you what they got, do I?”

Better act like you remember… Nope!

“Naturally! Like clockwork, the feast began-the man with his lobster, the woman with her pasta, and both sipping the wine.”

Another stifled laugh. What’s their deal?!

“So they ate. And drank. And talked. AND laughed. And it was only after the couple had returned home and prepared for bed when the woman found her beau lingering in the restroom… care to guess why?”

You dunno… DIARRHEA?

“Close, but no cigar, Stanley–not that you could get it on the first try!”

Dang it!

>CONTD.

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>>5137241
Tapping the glass table with their knuckles, your boss’ face lights up as the punchline prepares for launch! “GLASS, Stanley! Countless tiny, coarse, insignificant pieces!”

You pause mid-chew as you process things. You uh… you don’t get it.

“Well that’s where things get interesting!” Sonny gushes! “You see, they only found out what happened after the man died halfway to the hospital–tore his digestive tract to ribbons, as you can imagine! Talk about indigestion!”

Letting your fork drop to the table, you stop chewing as a sour taste spreads through your mouth…

“It took the police a few days to piece things together, but it could only have come from one place, couldn’t it? When they arrested the restaurant owner, it all made sense!”

Covering their mouth to slow their laughter, your boss continues to sputter out the rest of the story: “Th-the owner… was friends with him back in Middle School! And…” They stammer, barely holding their laughter in, “It was all because Lobster Man promised to take care of his guinea pig… but he FORGOT! He let it die!”

Sonny barely gets the rest of the story out before doubling over in hysterics! Slapping their thighs uncontrollably, your employer howls with laughter for a solid minute or two before finally regaining their composure with a few breaths from their mask.

“So…” they wheeze, “I just… I just found it so interesting…” Glancing at your leftovers through a teary eye, Sunny takes one last breath before regaining their composure. “... how someone could hold a grudge like that… all over some broken trust…”

Resting their chin on their hand, your boss gives you a genial smile from behind their mask. “Trust is… a funny thing, isn’t it?”

You blink in response.

“And you, Stanley… you’ve been trustworthy, haven’t you?”

You should probably answer that…
>YES–YES YOU HAVE!
>NO–TELL THEM EVERYTHING: CLIFF AND THE GREASERS, YOUR MEETING WITH THE OPERATOR, THE DEADLY GOO YOU SWIPED FROM THE DAM…
>K-KINDA! TELL THEM ABOUT ONE OR MORE THING FROM ABOVE! (WHICH ONES?)
>DEFLECT–ARE THEY TRUSTWORTHY? REALLY?
>CRY! IT GOT YOU OUT OF A SPEEDING TICKET ONCE!
>WRITE-IN!

That's it for tonight, all--don't worry, we'll get to the other topics you voted for next time! Should be ready for more TUESDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Get hype!

>>5137243
>NO–TELL THEM EVERYTHING: CLIFF AND THE GREASERS, YOUR MEETING WITH THE OPERATOR, THE DEADLY GOO YOU SWIPED FROM THE DAM…

>>5137243
>DEFLECT–ARE THEY TRUSTWORTHY? REALLY?

>>5137243
>DEFLECT–ARE THEY TRUSTWORTHY? REALLY?
To all the anons disturbed by the story - glass fragments small enough to be unnoticed won't cause damage, so your digestive tracts are safe.

>>5137243
>DEFLECT–ARE THEY TRUSTWORTHY? REALLY?

>>5137243
>DEFLECT–ARE THEY TRUSTWORTHY? REALLY?