He dreamed about the time they spent together.

How he loved to make Margles laugh. That was what he used his magic for when she was around. In his dream he was far in the past, over two hundred years ago, when he and she would steal away together to the precipice overlooking Martian City so they could be alone.

"Margles, my dear," he said, "would you like to see some magic?"

Margles squealed happily. He could hear it now just as clearly as he could back then. "I always love to see your magic, Magic Man!"

Magic Man took his hat off and held it in front of him. He waved his magic fingers over the hat as he said, "Watch closely. I'm going to pull a rabbit..." Then he lunged forward and shoved his magic arm deep into her ear cavity. "Out of your ear!" She shrieked and laughed as he did, and he pulled out a large, fluffy white rabbit. Both Margles and the Rabbit were unharmed. Then he put his hand into his hat and pulled out a penny. "And this is for you."

She took the penny and held it tight in her fist.

"Actually, I had something else... I wrote a song for you."

"Really? A song? For me?"

Magic Man picked up the rabbit and, with a wave of his hand, turned the rabbit into a furry ukulele. Then he strummed it and sang:

Margles, you're the magic
I've been dreaming of
Oh, Margles, you've got magic, too
The magic of love
Oh, Margles, you're the sweetest girl
That I've ever seen
So do you think we could get
To tier 15?

At the end of his song he tossed the ukulele up in the air and it exploded into a batch of fireworks that spelled out I LOVE YOU.

"I love you too, Magic Man."

They snuggled there in silence for a while, enjoying the view and each other's company.

"So, how about Tier 7?" Magic Man asked after a time.

"We have plenty of time for that."

Of course neither of them could have known that wasn't true.

Magic Man woke up with his head still throbbing, laying in a puddle of cold water. He remembered the day before only vaguely; Magic Man had a habit of not paying attention enough to form long-term memories about things that weren't fun. Yesterday hadn't been any fun at all. It started with him finding out his brothers were coming back to make him stand trial for his crimes and it ended with him getting punched all the way from Mars.

That was the source of his pain. Finn and Jake had left shortly after freeing Tiny Manticore (who had never once thanked Magic Man for his new size) and Magic Man had dragged himself up to make some magic ice for his magic migraine.

He opened his eyes a sliver, and the dim morning light was enough to blind him. The knot on the back of his head throbbed painfully. It was a while before he tried again.

He was staring at Margles.

Magic Man reached out and touched the picture, his finger separated from the image of the woman he loved by just a thin layer of glass.

Magic Man rarely returned to his trash palace these days. There was really nothing he needed or wanted here, and he was much happier spending his time wandering all over Ooo, doing magical "favors" for unsuspecting folks. You could get farther if you didn't have to turn around and go back halfway through the day.

Moving around was easier. It made it easier to not think about why he was here.

After the day before, he didn't want to think about anything but himself. He couldn't stay in this dirt barn any longer. Head still pounding, Magic Man sat up and grabbed his pack.

"Magic Man, what is your deal for real?"

"You tell me."

The boy had looked around to think. "Well, for one... I think this house is a reflection of your sick brain." He took the picture off the wall. The glass was so coated with grime that you couldn't see what the picture was, and the kid used his sleeve to wipe it off while he continued: "Look at this. Yuck. Who's this you're standing with in this picture?"

Magic Man was far beyond caring about anything: about his past, about his predicament, about the people he'd wronged. "Memories drift in and out of my mind, and the little people get left behind!" he sang.

The kid just looked at him, then tossed the picture into the dirt. "All right."

Then he continued digging through the trash, looking for the Martian machine that would help him rescue his friend. Someone he cared about. He was about to lose someone he cared about.

Magic Man wasn't watching the kid. He was looking at the picture of Margles. He felt a pang of empathy, though he didn't recognize it for what it was.

"It's downstairs."

Downstairs. Magic Man picked up the picture of him and Margles and tucked it into his backpack. Then he went through the still-opened door to the basement, jumping down and landing on a soft heap of dirt. There was his Martian Transporter, given to him by his brothers. All this time he figured it didn't work.

Without really thinking about it, Magic Man stood on the transporter. "You're just supposed to think stuff about people, and it works," he said, remembering Grob Gob Glob Grod's instructions, the last thing he said before leaving Magic Man in Ooo. Magic Man took hold of the bars and began to think.

He thought about his brothers. He was still sort of mad at them. After all, he was just having a good time. Why was it his fault everyone else was so pissed off? Even with the hair thing. It's not like they had much hair to begin with. If they grew more than just a mop top, then Grod couldn't see anything. And it's not like he didn't lose his hair, too. You didn't see Magic Man complaining that he didn't have any hair left on his weird head and had to wear a dorky hat to cover it up.

Ugh. Enough thinking about his brothers. What about the King of Mars? Pretty okay guy, up until he ganged up against Magic Man with Grob Gob Glob Grod. He didn't know the King of Mars as well as his brothers did.

How about that kid? The one who got the transporter to work. He told Magic Man his name when they were en route to his house, but of course Magic Man wasn't paying attention. Magic Man actually sort of liked that kid, though. He was the only one who got Magic Man's magical life lesson about not helping jerks. He was a pretty cool kid, if you overlooked the fact that he wanted to be a hero. I mean, why bother?

For a moment, he thought about Margles, and then decided he didn't want to think about Margles.

The transporter stayed silent.

Magic Man took his hands off the bars. The transporter's power probably fizzled in and out, he decided. After all, it was a pretty long way from Mars. No point in hanging around here waiting for a bunked transporter to work again. Magic Man checked his pack, slung it over his shoulder, pulled his tattered brown blanket over his shoulders, and set off.