Summary: In an attempt to flee GeneCo's goons, Graverobber ends up in a very unexpected place... WARNING: Mega Crackfic ahead!
Disclaimer: Graverobber, Repo! The Genetic Opera, GeneCo, and all related material is copyright to Darren Lynn Bousman, Darren Smith, and Terrance Zdunich. I own only my crazy imagination.
Warning! Ridiculously horrible crackfic ahead! This spawned out of a ridiculous idea after being up for three days straight during finals. Nothing here is going to make sense and it's not supposed to. I can't be held liable for any injuries resulting out reading this crackfic which include, but aren't limited to: fits of uncontrolled laughter, brain melting, sudden urges to kick garden gnomes, trying to find the Trash Kingdom by jumping in trash cans, or anything of the like.
Graverobber ran down the alley just a step ahead of the GeneCo goon squad. In hindsight, running around Sanitarium Square screaming, "GRAAAAVES" every five seconds was a bad idea. Rounding a corner, his first instinct was to hide in anything that was available. Finding only a cluster of trash cans, Graverobber figured that they would have to do.
He opened the lid of one of the trash cans and jumped in. Not a dumpster, mind, but a regular small metal trash can. The kind you'd expect to see outside on someone's curb. Only, this trash can wasn't quite like normal trash cans. Unlike every other trash can he had ever encountered, it didn't seem to have a bottom. It just went on and on in endless darkness and cheerfully disregarding the law of gravity, as Graverobber suddenly found himself crawling sideways through the trash can like a tunnel.
It didn't take very long before Graverobber found he was tired of crawling. "This trash can goes on forever," he thought, not the least bit perplexed or unnerved by the ridiculous tunnel he was currently crawling through. He decided to pause and take a break for a few minutes. Suddenly, what felt like a solid tunnel beneath him gave way, and Graverobber found himself hurtling down through empty space, yelling.
After about an hour of falling, however, Graverobber had stopped yelling. Quite to the contrary, he wasn't panicked anymore, but rather just extremely bored. The chasm didn't seem to have any end to it; much like the trash can tunnel he'd been crawling through just before he fell.
"This sure is a deep hole!" Graverobber thought as he fell.
"That's what he said!" he then thought in response to himself.
Without warning, Graverobber impacted with solid ground. "Owww…" he groaned as he peeled himself sorely off the dusty ground. Once he'd gotten himself to standing, he brushed himself off and squinted, letting his eyes adjust to the dismal hue of the air. All he could see were trash heaps, piled as far as the eye could see. "The hell is this place? Some secret GeneCo landfill?"
"Hello!" came a tiny voice, out of the blue.
Graverobber looked around in confusion, not seeing a single person within a mile radius.
"On behalf of the Styrofoam Cup League, I'd like to welcome you to the Trash Kingdom!"
Graverobber looked around again for a long moment before he finally looked down. Standing there at his feet was a tiny man no bigger than a garden gnome. He had a wide, hairless head with a hooknose, small deep-set eyes, and pointed ears as long as the width of his head, making his head look like a stretched out wingnut with a face. He was dressed outlandishly in trash bags and bits of Styrofoam, which formed something that vaguely suggested clothing.
"Uh… thanks?" Graverobber responded.
The little man extended his tiny grubby hand upwards and flashed a smile full of rotting teeth, "My name is Phbpnn!" the gnomish man said, spraying spit everywhere.
"The name's Graverobber. Nice to meet you, I think," Graverobber said hesitantly as he extended his gloved hand downwards.
"Very nice to meet you, mister Dave Roberts!" Phbpnn exclaimed.
"Um, that's not my—"
Graverobber wasn't able to finish his sentence, as Phbpnn suddenly grabbed his hand and began running with him. Graverobber was highly surprised to find himself airborne and being pulled easily along over the trash piles by a man no bigger than a toy poodle.
"This way!" Phbpnn exclaimed as he ran, and Graverobber for his part could do nothing but stare off at the blurs of scenery whizzing by him.
"Which way would that be?" Graverobber asked, uncertainly.
"North!" Phbpnn yelled over the growing roar of the slipstream around Graverobber's body.
Graverobber wanted to ask how exactly Phbpnn could tell they were going north, but he figured that was a moot point. He watched the heaps of trash disappear beneath them as Phbpnn pulled him along with the speed of a train. Before Graverobber could ponder the physics of the entire maneuver, however, they stopped abruptly, and his body was flung forward by the momentum and into a mountain of trash.
"Again with the falling," Graverobber groaned, slowly disentangling himself from discarded appliances and plastic soda can rings.
"We're here!" exclaimed Phbpnn excitedly as he jumped up and down in a circle.
Graverobber toppled off the side of the trash heap and rolled down to the ground, picking himself back up with a groan before looking around, "And where is 'here', exactly?" he asked. Before Phbpnn could answer him, however, a small voice came from within the trash heap.
"Frickity frackity Gullywag! Right through the side of my fragging house!" the voice cried.
Graverobber stared curiously at said 'house' as a man barely bigger than Phbpnn opened a small pizza box door and came outside to see what had happened to the side of his home. The man was much wider than Phbpnn and round, like a basketball with a head. He had much shorter ears than Phbpnn and a piggish nose, upon which he'd perched a pair of dusty spectacles, and he had a rather sour expression on his face. He'd dressed himself in what looked like an old Santa hat with holes cut for the arms and head, something that made Graverobber laugh despite himself. He looked like a fat red and white traffic cone.
"What reason have you to stick your body through the side of my house?!" the fat traffic cone yelled in his outrage.
Graverobber simply pointed at the exuberantly smiling Phbpnn and shook his head. After all, it wasn't his fault that the gnome had flung him through the man's wall.
"Totally his fault," Graverobber mouthed soundlessly.
"I don't give a sock whose fault it is! Fix it!" screamed the squat man.
Graverobber spent the next few minutes repairing the so-called house, though he wasn't exactly sure just how to 'fix' a trash heap. After restacking things somewhat more neatly and packing things together a little tighter, he figured he was done. "Alright, your 'house' is fixed. Can I go now?" The rotund man waddled over to the side of the house and pushed up his spectacles to get a better look, "Hmph. It's not great, but I guess it'll do. Fine, fine. You're free to go. Though, I would like your name, sir, in the event I have to sue you if my wall comes crashing down on my head," he spat.
"Yeah. Whatever. My name is—" Graverobber started.
"His name is mister Dave Roberts!" Phbpnn excitedly interjected, still jumping distractedly around in a circle.
Graverobber briefly wondered how a gnome with such big ears could have such awful hearing before interjecting, "No, no, that's not my—"
The spectacled man didn't give him a chance to correct Phbpnn, however, "Fine, Mister Roberts. My name is Pleebbs. I'm going to need to have you sign some paperwork in triplicate before you leave."
Graverobber scratched his head confusedly as Pleebbs went back into the trash heap to fetch the paperwork. "What kind of lunatic place is this?" Graverobber thought. He was seriously considering just going back and letting the goon squad arrest him. This place was just too weird, and he clearly needed to have his head checked.
Pleebbs reappeared with a rudimentary clipboard made of an alligator clip and some cardboard, stuffed chock full of 'paperwork', which Graverobber eyed suspiciously. Pleebbs marked a few places on the papers with Xs before handing Graverobber the clipboard, "Now, everywhere there is an X you must sign, and that goes for all three copies of the paperwork. By signing, you signify that you understand and agree to hold yourself liable for any and all trash wall instability and any injuries arising out of its structural unsoundness. You also agree to pay any tablature sums amounting over T3,000 tabs in reparation for any injuries sustained and any repair costs. Also, please fill out any insurance or relevant financial data as needed on the appropriate sheets," Pleebbs said, as he shoved the pen into Graverobbers hands.
Graverobber stared incredulously at the gnome in the Santa hat before looking down at the paperwork in confusion. "Insurance? What hell does he mean by tabs? Financial data, is he kidding? This is ridiculous," he thought, "…but, since I might have to be here for a while…" He figured he might as well. After all, Pleebbs would be expecting all the info to be for a Dave Roberts, so why not make the whole thing up? Graverobber filled out all the paperwork in triplicate with what he was increasingly sure was a porcupine quill and not actually a pen, making sure to sign at every X, cross all his Ts and dot all his Is.
"Alright, the paperwork is done. Here," he said as he tossed the clipboard back at Pleebbs.
A shrill yell of celebration nearly gave him a heart attack, however, as Phbpnn yelled and clapped his tiny hands at Graverobbers feet, "Hurray for mister Dave Roberts! Warrior of wall repair! Preparer of paperwork! Defeater of descent! C—"
Graverobber covered Phbpnn's mouth with his gloved hand and glared, "Don't do that."
"Let's go celebrate!" Phbpnn yelled as he took hold of Graverobbers hand once more and started running. As he once again went airborne, Graverobber sighed. It was clearly going to be a much longer day than he'd hoped for.