Scene III - Back on AirIt turns out the folks at channel 13
adore us enough to un-cancel the spectacle. This time, it's going to be done right.
Using the Dreamland Power to restore myself, offer my services to the Malefic Girl's Cult.
The Power of Dreamland has already met a flashy and fiery end in the donkey's mouth! However, the Malefic Girl seems to know better. "
Oh, that? That's nothing! Trust me, I've seen worse." she giggles, sketching away a set of arms, and you suddenly manifest limbs of graphite! Not sure how useful they are, but it's something.
I enter the Speakeasy and take a deep inhalation of the fog to steady my nerves as I approach The Godfather.
”Alright you no good bootlegger, surrender now and uh, nobody has to die...and by nobody I mean you.”
I say as I shakily hold up the gun to face The Godfather, preparing myself to shoot him if needed, or if I must do it, k-kill him. I try to stop my stutters from entering my thoughts, and focus on my goal of bringing The Godfather to justice.
"
Shoot me? I'd like to see you try, kid. If bullets could stop me, I wouldn't be the god damned Godfather." he places his left hand in his left pocket, as is usually done, and idly twirls his index finger with the other. A bottle of alcohol flings up into the air, coated by a green aura! It flies right by your head, almost like a bullet.
Though slightly confused at the recent events, I ride my Donkey of the Night to the speakeasy and display WyrdByrd's ID - that is to say, my ID - thereby proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am definitely a person and not a flock of birds. That fact being established, I enter the bathroom in search of a coherent plot.
The kind folks at TrickleJest Inc remind you that a coherent plot is currently scheduled to occur after the heat death of the universe. Hey, we've got our priorities.
You enter the bathroom, where you are greeted by the shady man! "
Freeze, chump!" he yells out, pulling a gun on you! He looks official-looking, and you can tell thanks to the brown coat and important-looking files stashed in his other hand.
Get to a phone, and report identity theft. It's annoying that someone ended up stealing up an ID card. After all, I wouldn't want my actions attributed to someone else.
Fortunately, I was able to keep my other form of identification: A passport. That should measure up for any background checks.
You attempt to get to a phone-box, but then realize that you lack money! Damn it. Luckily, there's a fat and sweaty man wearing a top-hat around ten meters away from you, holding a conveniently large sum of money! Do you dare stoop down to petty thievery to prevent petty thievery? Reality is testing you, it seems.
"Pfft- Why stab someone yourself, when you've already stabbed them a few dimensions over?"
Kit pulls out an ornate knife, glimmering with poison.
"Like that copper who's bugging you, somewhere I've planted this knife between his eyes. And now, these realities are one!"
He String-Crosses, causing a well-thrown knife to materialize in the policeman's frontal skull. The knife of this dimension vibrates dangerously, as its clone appears.
"And get this - the same item from two dimensions don't mix. So what do they do when they touch? Explode!"
He then throws the knife at the knife, and they violently delete one another, and the face they embedded in.
"Impressed?"
The Godfather turns around for a split second, as if trying to hide the fact that he's impressed, or perhaps he's not impressed at all, and just feels like turning around. "
Good on you, kid. Now deal with the others." he gives you a faint smile.
inquire about the Maleific girl’s attempt to form a cult, what she remembers before hell, and why there is an angry intern and a guy who looks suspiciously like her father dressed as a mafia member.
"
I'm not an amnesiac, am I? I remember stuff. There was a bunch of fighting involved, and- Dad! Damn, where is he? Is he here? Did we leave him behind? He can't be dead! He's, you know. He's a reality bender! Not some sorta chump." she looks solemnly at the ground, and then springs back up, as if shoving the prior thought aside. "
I dunno anything else, though. And cults are always fun, right?" she clasps her hands together, and sneaks by next to the speakeasy entrance.
Try and sneak towards the bathroom to look for the figure. Keep an eye out for the other figure, as well as the other other figure, and don't let the suspenseful background music distract me too much. Also make sure Bobo isn't behind me.
You sneak towards the bathroom, avoiding the figure watching you from the highest shelf of the speakeasy (behind the premium Chardo-whatever bottle of what seems to be wine), and the one watching paint dry in a room located far enough away from you where their paint-watching will not be interrupted. Bobo is always behind you. Bobo is inevitable.
You enter the bathroom, where you see someone claiming to be WyrdByrd, and the man you saw prior! He has a gun pointed at WyrdByrd, for reasons that you may find above. (Or not).
The fact that I am compressed means my actions take space, so I can do two actions, so my action is that I punch the mobster in the face
You punch the Mobster Godfather in the face, but you are too compressed to hit him for some odd reason! It seems that if you want to hit him, you'll have to decompress.
The fact that I am compressed means my actions take space, so I can do two actions, so my action is that I don't punch the mobster in the face
You don't punch the Mobster Godfather in the face! The Godfather gets a headache, dealing him 2 points of damage!
Sense I'm the donkey now I'm gonna get rid of this guy that's riding me, then go and eat one of the PETA people sense they can't hurt me as I'm an animal.
You ditch the man claiming to be WyrdByrd, and devour all of PETA! They're powerless to stop your carnage. It simply goes against their rules.
Say hi to my dear friend, Erwin the Fascist Intern. Then, seize the Caucasus and get the Mobster Godfather to drink some tasty oil.
The Fascist Intern does a little jig. It's disgusting. Don't look. He decides to follow you to the ends of the earth.
The Caucasus has been blown up in this realm, by a particularly saccharine explosion! The Godfather tries to drink oil, realizes there is none, and takes a point of damage thanks to dehydration.
I give them 8 souls- gotta make sure to tip well- from other microbes in my body like the one i summoned them with, then tip-toe over to malefic girl. Then, I make dramatic wind, blowing some flesh bits or hair or something off them. This stuff comes from another reality! That means I can officially give it to death to get my own reality, i think! To test my theory, I disconnect the chunk of reality my mansion-that-i-now-own-because-nobody-defined-human-souls-as-opposed-to-microbes inhabits from the rest of reality, calling my reality-rending soul-sword to me across realitys, universes, continuities, and Norway to do so. perfecshubluib.
I also wonder why i keep having a typo in the important parts of my posts.
You cannot travel back to your reality, for reasons that involve reasons! You do buy the mansion, however. It's a nice mansion. Large. Pretty cool.
The Godfather realizes that he is being targeted even in the speakeasy! The effects of the speakeasy's aura of toxic liquors seep into the minds of those inside of it. Thanks to the efforts of MeimeFan88, three figures become visible, one hiding carefully in the top shelf of the speakeasy's grand alcohol wall, or perhaps they're a side-effect of the temporary drunkenness? It watches over the players with dangerous and gleaming eyes. The second figure watches paint dry in a distant room of the speakeasy. As for the third, Bobo... Well, Bobo is behind you. Bobo is behind everything.
The Godfather takes this opportunity to hide behind one of the tables, and frantically whistles. The figure from the top shelf suddenly begins shooting webs at those in the speakeasy! He surrounds the table that the Godfather is hiding under with sticky webs, which the Godfather seems to be slightly annoyed at, but should prevent anyone barging in directly.
While the Malefic Girl begins assembling her cult, others flock to the bathroom of the speakeasy to check the commotion, where a shady man has his gun pointed at a man claiming to be WyrdByrd. The Donkey of the Night, who now happens to be King Zultan, has just consumed over 200 people. His rampage knows no bounds, except the bounds of my erratic updating schedule! The fascist intern takes a lesson from his future ideological leader, and shoots himself.
As the drunken haze dissipates, Bobo begins fading away, letting out a small whimper before vanishing. Farewell, my dear child.
SpeakeasyMobster Godfather: 46/50 HP. Protected by sticky webs! Under the protection of the figure in the shelves.
Figure in the Shelves:
Unknown. Watching, quietly.
AlleywayDonkey of the Night: 7/7 HP. Souls consumed: 200.
Fascist Intern:
Dead. Will not be missed.
Malefic Girl: 5/5 HP. How's the cult coming along?
Author
Topic: Conductor's Jubilee (Read 9396 times)