Well-Moulded Lies
Written by StylishRapo
1/5
The taffyman huffed a bit with crossed arms, watching the snowman walk away from him with a deeply pouting expression. "He can't ground me," He muttered bitterly, "I'm older than him. Besides, who put him in charge, anyway?"
"Mr. Frosty had a point, however," A pumpkin-headed poltergeist couldn't help but object, "It is dangerous to wander alone, in a place unknown to you." The taffy being of Clay merely grunted in response at first, but took it lightly as he eventually settled down.
"Yeah well," He complained as he put a fist on his hip, "'Cause of that, the tour's gonna have to wait. Unless..." He paused, thinking for a moment with a finger to his chin. He suddenly smirked, looking over at the one next to him. He lowered his voice to a whisper as he continued, "Hey, Icky. Let's wait 'til all the others are snoozin'. We can totally sneak out!"
"Taffy, this shift will take a lot of getting used to," Icky replied in a mumble as he gourdpalmed. Taffy didn't understand a word he said, but let it go with a small shrug.
"So..." He soon replied, hoping to be wrong as he lightly nudged his friend with an elbow, "That a no?" When Icky nodded, Taffy frowned with another small pout. "Man, yer a bit borin'."
Icky soon stopped the gourdpalming, clearing his throat as he led Taffy around the pseudo base of the ClayFighters. "Anyway," Icky started, with Taffy following after him, "Icky was told that High was here, too. Thank goodness he was safe; he's become a sort of a traitor amongst the Doctor's malicious team; kind of like Icky himself." While Icky pursued on his search, Taffy stopped him briefly, pointing in a certain direction.
"Is he a gigantic Human hand with a whole buncha..." Taffy paused with a small grimace as he noticed the figure entirely, "Guts?" To his surprise, Icky lit up like a proper Halloween jack-o-lantern, grinning widely in happiness and proceeding to drag Taffy over to the aforementioned hand.
"YES!" Taffy was all but helpless as Icky sped on over, "You'd be EXACTLY right! High, OVER HERE!" With the last sentence, Icky waved frantically with his other hand, garnering the attention of the other, who immediately faced the source of the commotion, seeming to light up as well with well-expressed body language, running over to the two beings of Clay.
"ICKYYYYY!" The dismembered appendage called as he attempted to pounce Icky, only to phase through him. Icky merely let out a soft giggle from this, while the hand landed on his fingers. He mused in false-sadness, "Aw, not again," as he turned around to face the other two before him.
The two shared a sickeningly cute reunion filled with sappy hugs, although Icky was the only one who was hugging by the true definition. Taffy, not knowing what to do, just stood there and watched it unfold, noticing how... Happy they were; happier than how their own reunion went, that's for sure. When they were finally finished, they parted from the embrace, Icky gesturing toward Taffy.
"High Five, this is Taffy," Icky introduced, clearly in a better mood than previously, "The one Icky's been telling you about! We finally found each other again, after all this time!" High appeared delighted, jumping a bit before extending his pinkie for what seemed like a handshake of some sort. Meanwhile, Taffy caught Icky's latter portion with ease, feeling a bit humbled. He soon returned the gesture, although it felt a bit strange.
"Yeah, nice to meetcha!" Taffy soon replied, before looking over at Icky again, "You've... Really talked 'bout me?" Instead, High answered, excitement in his tone. Thus, Icky decided to keep quiet, to observe how well the two would interact together.
"Yeah, Icky's told me tons about you!" Was High's response, "That you liked to make sweets, that family's really important to you, and friends, and how kind-hearted you were, not to mention that Icky missed you..." High paused for a few moments, before his tone turned a bit shy, "I've been waiting for a long time to be able to meet you, if I can be honest. You sounded like a really cool guy." To all this, Taffy blinked, surprised and even more humbled from just how much Icky would speak of him, realizing that he wasn't the only one who missed the other.
"Well, damn!" Taffy finally said, hiding the humble feeling by showing pride, "I've gotta hand it to him; Icky sure knows his fizz around here-" He stopped as High abruptly busted a gut laughing, flipping onto his back and waving his fingers in a spazing manner. At first, Taffy seemed a bit confused, until High said something.
"'Gotta hand it to him'!" He struggled to speak through his laughter, "That... That was BEAUTIFUL!" Quickly, Taffy seemed to get it, letting out a small chuckle from it all, though he never intended on the pun.
"Oh, wow," He spoke, though couldn't keep a straight face, "Didn't realize ya liked puns so bad." He made a small pause, before having a new realization come crashing over him. "Wait, is that why yer called High Five- Oh, oh my God...! I get it!"
Icky continued to look on in wonder and happiness, hoping that Taffy's fruity language habit wouldn't have made a turn-off, as well as some other 'traits' Taffy seemed to inherit from being a sour flavor. Just the opposite; High didn't seem to mind and they appeared to be hitting it off rather well, to the point where they would probably (and easily) become friends.
But in Taffy's mind, he hoped that he was still Icky's number one. Just the thought of being replaced filled him with dread, and he had no intention of letting it happen. Just gonna have to make sure to gently put ol' High in his place, He thought to himself, And to let him know that the BFF zone is mine.
"Man," Taffy said after these thoughts, the laughter from the both of them finally dying away, "Maybe bein' grounded won't be so bad after all. All that matters is that I can't 'leave the reef for a week' and fizz like that. I can still do whatever the hell I wanna! And..." Taffy came over to them, bringing them both around his arms, "With ya guys around, it'll be a cinch!"
"Are you saying that we're your playmates?" Icky couldn't help but ask, strangely not phasing out of Taffy's lunge to them. Taffy rose an eyebrow, pffting a bit to that.
"What? No!" He chuckled afterward, "I mean that just ya guys bein' here'll help, that's all! Geez, ya ain't slaves or anythin'..." When Taffy pulled away from the two of them, he thought to himself once again, I got my eye on ya, Hand. Better not do anythin' TOO funny. High, however, turned to Icky, musing to him.
"He seems nice!" He did so cheerfully, blissfully unaware of the whole situation.
It was later in the night, most of the other castaways (including High) settling down to sleep. High was out already just after he'd listened to a story Taffy was telling, but only because he was begged to. Taffy soon noticed Icky nearby, quietly calling out to him, Icky floating over.
"Ya know," Taffy whispered to him lightly as he led Icky away from most of the others, instead into the jet itself, "It's actually a good thing that ya said no to sneakin' out. I'm tired as hell, and I'd probably just crash at some point." His voice grew in volume the further away they got, while Icky seemed to notice that the jet was still mostly intact, despite the crash.
"You sleep in here...?" Icky asked him as they dwelled deeper into the jet, until Taffy stopped at a set of seats, opening a compartment above and pulling out a large bag of something. Taffy nodded, continuing on until he found an empty spot, opening the bag and dumping it - the only contents being a hoard of saltwater taffy of many assorted flavors. While anyone else would've been surprised, Icky was completely undeterred.
"Yup," Taffy finally said in response, before moving the bag elsewhere, "It's just better this way, that's all. But it kinda sucks that yer nocturnal and stuff; I don't get to hang around ya for long." He took a step back, then jumped cleanly into the new pile, shifting around and getting into a comfortable position, the wrapped pieces covering nearly all of his body. "I don't care, though. I'm just glad yer back."
"Yes, it's been a long time," Icky agreed almost immediately, seating himself in the closest chair, "This... This reminds Icky of when we were in Clayland, how we would just... Share some sweets, swap some stories about what was going on, rating Tiny every night with an 'Arrogant Jackassometer', if he recalls correctly..."
"OH YEAH...!" Taffy quickly recalled with a small laugh, "I remember the Jackassometer! That was the best. Also, I uh... I know how ya like to wander at night, but I kinda sorta wanna ask ya one tinsy-tiny favor." He paused, frowning a bit now in a bit of hesitation, "Do ya think ya would stick around 'til I'm asleep? Kinda like how we used to...?"
Icky's eyeholes widened as his expression changed; he certainly didn't expect Taffy to either remember this much or to actually request such a thing, since he was starting to think that Taffy would seem like the kind of person to be all like "I'm too old for that". But instead... Icky nodded with a grin, floating away from the chair and now seating himself on the ground, adjusting so that his lap and tail went underneath all the little pieces of stretchy confections.
He could swear that he heard a small "Yay" uttered by the candy ClayFighter, though it was a tad difficult since Taffy was readjusting himself so that his eyestalk was curled against Icky's lap.
"Say... Where are ya gonna sleep?" Taffy spoke directly this time, though his question was light-hearted, "Since yer with us now, would it seem weird to be sleepin' around here, or..." Icky soon shook his head.
"No," Icky's reply was soft, while his hand cupped Taffy's shoulder, "Icky prefers his Mansion. After all, it's much easier to keep out the dreaded Sun's light. Plus, he is most comfortable in a coffin..."
"Heh, yeah, that's true," Taffy nodded in understanding, welcoming Icky's previous gesture wholeheartedly. It was quiet for a bit longer, until Taffy continued, "Ya know, it's weird, actually. How we're friends, that is. I like the daytime, and especially the warm Sun, except when it might make me melt, of course. But... Ya hate day, ya hate the Sun."
"Yes," Icky listened with agreement, before adding, "And you find the sunny daytime joyful and full of possibility; meanwhile you believe that Icky's preference to darkness and rain spells sadness and gloom. It's not true; night can be just as beautiful, and rain is rather relaxing, and necessary at times. Everything is based on perception, and Icky perceives the daylight as blinding and threatening. Condescending, even."
"... Damn, never thought of it that way," Taffy mused after a bit more of thought, though his eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment. He continued on, though not without a good yawn, "Though the Sun's pretty important, too. Sun, rain... They both work together, ya know...?"
"They do," Icky agreed lightly, and before he knew it, Taffy was out like a light. Icky couldn't help but to chuckle quietly to himself, missing calm moments like these, having craved them for so long. Sure, he had High to partake in some of those moments, but they were never quite the same as with Taffy. He's special...
Icky soon made sure to carefully part from his friend, as to not awaken him, before floating out of the jet's interior, soon enough disappearing into the jungles entirely. It was just the ordinary poltergeist business as usual.
The footsteps were in an unsteady rhythm as a still fairly wounded clown used a doorknob as an adequate balance. It was only a bit ago where he'd regained consciousness, quickly followed by rage of the insane kind. Once able to continue, the knob was turned, then opened, as he made his way inside the Research Room.
It didn't go unnoticed as the sounds of teeth gnawing on a bone assaulted his hearing, only to hear a pause. The clown looked over without even so much as a turn of the head, eying a nearby mutated dog, who seemed to have a questionable amount of rows of dangerously sharp teeth. The dog eyed him back, grimacing at his wounds and wanting to speak, only for that chance to be silenced by a different voice altogether.
"Bonker." The voice began, a new person revealing himself from across the room. German in accent and dripping with a mad scientist cliche, he was seated in a nice-looking black leather chair, watching various TV screens showcasing various locations of the island through hidden cameras. "I was about to zink you were going to be gone all night. Report." Bonker took one look at the TV screens before them, before he replied.
"Why don't you see for yourself, Doctor? My embarrassing failures should be right there, captured on film for all to see."
"Zese cameras don't see all," The Doctor merely replied, "Stop trying to be so smart; I'm the one running ze whole production, and you're a mere henchman to forward my plans. So, do explain zese... Failures."
Bonker swiftly grew a glare from the Doctor's words, but knew better than to try anything, lest his... Dog spring to his defense. "Ickybod has betrayed us," He instead spoke, this time bluntly. "He's decided to-"
"Bah!" The Doctor interrupted, waving it off with his only remaining hand. "He wasn't zat good as what he does, anyway. Just eliminate him. I have plenty of others to aid me."
"About that," Bonker said, more expressively this time, "Ghost boy's got a bodyguard; a candyman, of sorts. He beat me to the ground, revolver blazing. I'm lucky to have survived a candy bullet through the skull; point-blank ranged, must I add." The Doctor, however, seemed to pay no mind, not even looking at the clown before him.
"What are you complaining about?" He soon spoke, "How do you zink you survived a blow like zat? Do you even realize what sugar does to wounds?" When Bonker couldn't respond, the Doctor sighed in a bit of frustration. "Zat bullet, made of candy and zus, sugar, accelerates the natural healing process with lessened pain. So, gather your bearings and eliminate the both of zem."
This time, Bonker seemed to understand, but didn't respond. Instead, he turned away from the Doctor entirely, unsteadily making his way back to the door. This time, the dog from before was able to speak without his master's interference.
"You know, if you need help..." He spoke out, though unusually subdued. Regardless, Bonker stopped him before he could finish his proposal, scowling over at the dog.
"This is my business and no one else's, got it, mutt?" He practically sneered, "The first failure was just a fluke, that's all." He ignored the way the dog mutant drew away, only going back to his chewed up bone with the slightest of whimpers. Bonker instead went to turn the knob again, leaving the Research Room while still having less than sturdy steps.
"This time, I won't make any mistakes," He muttered to himself as he started making his way across the somewhat incredibly deadly pair of bridges. He vaguely noticed a certain witch doctor fleeting hurriedly across the other bridge, just as much as the other failed to notice Bonker. Even as the witch doctor practically threw open the doors in a frantic frenzy, Bonker continued to himself.
"There will be no bowing to the true Ringmaster. There'll only be death; the most painful possible."