It was the fifth "work party" in two months that his parents had forced him into, and Jack had had enough. No matter how many times he whined or delayed them far more than was fashionable, he was still dragged screaming into the family limo – wearing a pastel suit, no less. He'd even hid in the basement once, although since that was where he spent most of his time anyway, he wasn't very hard to find. His mother had eventually threatened to take away his PlayStation, and that was why he was standing outside in broad daylight, with no robots or even a leather trench coat to hide behind. His mother had slicked his hair back, for God's sake. He'd refused to budge on the matter of his preferred eye markings, however, stating loudly that he'd call child services if they wouldn't let him "express his inner evil." As he was 23 years old there was no real danger of child services doing anything what-so-ever, but they let him keep the eye liner.

Today's suit was powder blue, another nightmare his mother had picked out for him. Despite Mrs. Spicer insisting that it was custom made, she had never brought her son with her to be fitted for it and it had apparently been tailored to fit someone else entirely. It was probably one his father had bought and decided he didn't want after all, but was too lazy to cancel the order. Jack quietly suspected it was because of the overinflated shoulder pads, but the reality was that his father had it made the year before Jack was born, and subsequently forgot about it before he ever had the chance to wear it. His mother had in return forgotten to get enough suits for her son to fit her "never wear an outfit more than once to a social gathering"-code, and had dug through the back of her husband's side of the closet in desperation.

Thus he was stuck in this thing, a horrid, ill-fitting reminder that the eighties were a thing that happened, and he couldn't even complain to Wuya about it. There were two reasons for this: firstly, Jack's family didn't know about Wuya. She hated his mother and loathed his father, and turned herself invisible whenever they were home, calling them snobbish and idiotic. His parents, on their end, firmly believed that their son was "going through a phase," and all his talk of world domination and magical Chinese artifacts was actually a plea for attention. This was part of the reason why they insisted on dragging him to these parties in the first place. The other part was that they secretly hoped he would find a girlfriend among their coworkers' daughters and move out, although as he was 23 and still living in their basement they were beginning to sense that they might have to start looking for a plan B.

The second reason was that Wuya had slunk back to Chase Young to get her body back. Again. It was the fourth time in as many weeks and Jack fully expected her to be back by Friday, ranting about how much she hated Chase and how obnoxious and self-absorbed he was, while at the same time elegantly missing the irony in these complaints. He was only glad that he wouldn't have to worry about her messing with his pudding for the next few days. He hoped Chase wouldn't give in, even to stop Wuya whining at him. While back in her body she had taken to eating his pudding, which was far worse than merely hiding it behind the carrots as was her usual method as a ghost, although she had stopped once she realized that a pudding cup had a rather large amount of fats and sugars for its size. Still, he didn't want to take any chances. The next thing he knew, she'd be actually getting rid of them instead of just pretending to… No, he had to stop thinking that. Sometimes she could read minds. He didn't want to give her any ideas.

Jack had detached himself from his parents at the earliest possible moment to go seek out a shaded corner to go sulk in. The sun seemed to be trying it's hardest to give him a sunburn, and the heavy material of the suit jacket was already making him sweat. He resolved to ditch it as soon as he-

"Ooh, hello, Jack," grated a familiar and unwelcome voice. "Purrrr-fect timing. I was almost having fun."

"Leave me alone, Ashley." Jack dragged the syllables of her name out as long as he could, to achieve maximum annoyance. It worked.

"My name," the blonde hissed angrily, "is Katnappé." Her gaze flicked downwards and she curled her lip. "Good grief, what are you wearing?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Ashley?"

"What, can't a girl say hello to her cousin without there being a nefarious purpose behind it?" Ashley/Katnappé batted her eyes unconvincingly.

"Your uncle is dating my mom's step-cousin, that doesn't make us related. And when that girl's you, no she can't."

Ashley sighed. "Listen, Jack, I need a favor…"

"Forget it, I'm not helping you."

"You see, there's this guy, right? And-"

"Yeah, leaving now." He turned to leave but Ashley caught him by one of his over-long sleeves.

"Aw, c'mon, Jack! I just need some robots to destroy! I wanna look good in front of this guy." Her voice turned sing-song. "I hear he's pret-ty ee-vul."

"I'm not giving you Jack-Bots to blow up so you can go on a date! Do you have any idea how much time and effort goes in to each and every one of my-"

"I'll buy you a month's supply of pudding cups."

"…Make it two months and you've got yourself a deal."

"Fine."

Jack slunk off to find a more secluded spot to hide in. This proved more difficult than he had originally thought, as the grounds behind the country club where the party was being held were mainly composed of wide expanses of emerald grass and carefully tended flowerbeds. All this talk of pudding had also made him hungry. The most cover he could find anywhere near the food was around the hedge that surrounded the terrace, although since there were people on both sides there was really no point in crouching behind it, even if he could decide which side was "behind." He tried to anyway, and immediately panicked when he almost sat on a slug.

He recovered and instead roamed dejectedly across the lawn, munching on one of the many sandwiches he'd swiped from the buffet table. The heat, the people, a suit that clashed so horribly with his hair… It was almost too much. He wandered aimlessly, until suddenly the sun was gone and he looked up in surprise to find himself standing underneath some trees at the edge of the country club's property. Jack grinned. Perfect. Nobody would ever find him here, not even Ashley. Okay, maybe Ashley. He went in a bit deeper just to make sure.

It was peaceful here. Dark too. Not night dark, of course, but the sort of pleasant, muted murk that came from sunlight filtered through a heavy canopy of leaves. It was cool enough to leave his jacket on without sweating to death, so after checking carefully for slugs and other creepy-crawlies, he loosened his tie and settled down next to a tree trunk to eat another sandwich triangle.

A breeze fluttered pleasingly through the trees as he ate and after a while Jack felt himself growing tired. He checked his watch. He had plenty of time for a nap. He shifted slightly to get comfortable and gazed around him. It really was nice out here. Maybe he'd come to the country club more often. He closed his eyes and drifted.

Or rather, he tried to. Only moments after his eyelids fluttered closed he heard something. He tried to ignore it, but it was incessant, rhythmic, only barely loud enough to hear. He would have thought it was just something he'd imagined, but the longer he refused to acknowledge it, the louder it got, until he was nearly able to identify it. It sounded like… ticking.

Jack blinked. At first everything seemed as it had before he closed his eyes. Then something moved. He scrambled to his feet. "Wh-who's there?" he called in what he hoped was a loud, authoritative voice.

A few tense seconds passed, in which a rustling sound joined the ever-louder ticking. Jack pretended not to be incredibly nervous. "Show yourself!" he demanded.

The undergrowth rustled menacingly. Jack flattened himself against the tree. "Please don't hurt-!" he squealed. A rabbit hopped out from behind a bush.

Jack deflated. "Oh," he said, in a mock-casual voice. "It's just a bunny. Well, it's not like you can smell fear or anything," he tittered at the rabbit. "Not that I am- was scared," he assured it hurriedly. The bunny twitched its nose in reply.

Jack squatted down carefully after making sure it wasn't going to attack him – having recently watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail, he wasn't taking any chances– and surveyed the creature more closely. It was indeed a bunny. But there was something odd about it. He peered closer, eyes narrowing. "Is that a… skirt-?"

The rabbit turned tail and scampered off the way it came, the ticking noise fading after it. Jack tore after it, completely neglecting his terror of thirty seconds previously. "Hey, wait up!" he yelled, either forgetting or simply ignoring the fact that yelling at a small rodent while stampeding after it was probably not the best way to lure it back. "Come back! How did you get that hat to stay on?"

The rabbit darted back and forth between roots and fallen trees. It seemed to know exactly where it was going, but Jack did not. It did not occur to him, however, that he was lost, as his attention was fully focused on the small white rabbit that may or may not have been in possession of a very dashing top hat. He zig-zagged after it, narrowly avoiding multiple head-on collisions with overhanging branches only by tripping over small bushes or clumps of weeds.

Suddenly it was gone. Jack looked around wildly for exactly three seconds before his lack of attention sent him sprawling over a log. In the brief moment he was flying, he imagined slamming face first into the ground and breaking his nose on the tree he now noticed was directly in front of him, but he needn't have worried. Instead, he toppled head-first into the giant gaping hole in the ground he hadn't noticed either. He barely had time to cry out before the darkness swallowed him.

"Ohhh shiiiiiiii…"