Henry was sleeping peacefully (or as peacefully as he could on that scratchy bed) when an awful sound from outside jolted him awake. It was as if someone had ran right smack into the mailbox and toppled over. A few seconds later he heard a knock over the sound of his pounding heart and he sprang out of bed.

"Henry, you awake? I'm coming in!"

Before Henry could make a cry of protest, the door flung open and in came Dunhill. Henry screamed and it didn't take Dunhill long to figure out why: Henry was naked.

With a blush on his face, he quickly grabbed the blanket and held it up to cover his crotch pistol. He cried, "What the hell, Dunhill?!"

"Oh, pardon me! No worries, no worries. We're both men, right? We can see each other in the nude without no harm being done. Heck, we could even bath together and it wouldn't be weird."

"I—what? No!"

"Why do you sleep naked, anyway?"

"I like the breeze."

Dunhill just laughed. "Well, put some clothes on because today's a big day! You get to meet all the wonderful people living here in Echo Village!"

Henry stood there and stared at Dunhill, who stared back without uttering a word. An uneasy feeling crept over him, and finally he cleared his throat.

"Aren't you going to leave so I can change?"

"What? Oh, right. Youngsters and their privacy these days."

As Dunhill lead Henry out of the farm, they first came to a house with a purple picket fence. A busy looking lady with a strange affection for apples greeted them with a smile, "Hello, dear! You must be Henry. I think it's wonderful that you decided to take over the farm after poor Rachel took off."

"Henry, this is Emma, the resident shipper."

Henry smiled politely at the cheerful woman. "Shipper? What does a shippper do?"

"Takes off her clothes for money!" Dunhill chimed in.

Emma frowned. "No, Dunhill. That's a stripper."

"Ooh, right. My hearing aint the best, I'll tell you that."

Emma continued, "Hun, as a shipper I constantly dream up relationships between the villagers here... who would look good dating who, who makes a cute couple, that kind of thing! And if two people are dating and I like it, I will support them 'til the end! Usually shipping involves wishing everyone partake in homoerotic activities and writing stories about it."

Henry raised a brow, but felt slightly intrigued. "Well, that all sounds creepy as hell, but it was nice meeting you, Emma."

"Pleasure's all mine, hun." Then she leaned in, curious and excited look on her face. "Now tell me, what's your gender preference? Oh, who am I kidding?" She laughed. "I'll just make you gay anyway! Most likely with Neil or Allen!"

Before Henry could say anything, Dunhill pushed him along as Emma muttered to herself ideas about the next slashfic she could write.

Next, they stepped inside the General Store. Dunhill and Hana greeted each other with a warm hug (perhaps a little too warm) and Dunhill introduced her to Henry.

"Henry, this is Hana. She runs the store here and she sells important items for beginning farmers, like crops with atrociously low star levels and the basic gardening tools."

"Pleasure meeting you, dear," the cute old lady greeted with a smile.

Just then, Henry saw something flailing out of the corner of his eye. When he jerked his head to the left, he yelped. "SON OF A- What is that?!"

On the floor was a terrifying looking man with giant, monkey-like ears and hair that sort of resembled a snow-peaked Mt. Fuji. He was flopping around like a fish, even opening and closing his mouth in a fish-like manner. "Glub glub, glub glub," he muttered every so often.

"Oh, that's my husband," Hana began with a frown. "He was just released from the institute last month. I missed him dearly, so I'm happy to have him back."

"Glub glub."

"Oh, Kosaburo, you fox," Hana giggled as he walked back behind the counter.

Dunhill straightened his cowboy hat. "Hmph. Maybe he needed to stay a lil' longer."

"Oh, Dunhill, don't be silly."

Henry slowly inched his way back out of the door as Dunhil and Hana got into a discussion. When he turned around, he was face-to-face with a pink haired creature that slightly resembled a beloved Sailor Moon character. The girl's big, red eyes were staring right into his soul, and her smile made Henry uneasy.

"Hi there!" Her high-pitched voice made Henry shiver. "I'm Michelle! The resident cutie and bestest magician!" Her eyes narrowed and her smile shifted into a coy grin as she poked Henry in the chest. "Oooh, what's your name, tiger?"

God, let this please be a bad dream.

"H-Henry."

Michelle giggled. "Teehee! I knew that. I just wanted to hear you say it yourself."

Henry was too busy feeling terrified to notice that Dunhill had walked out of the General Store and was standing behind him.

"Hello there, Michelle!

"Good morning, Dunhill," she greeted sweetly as she laced her fingers together behind her back. "I was just introducing myself to Henry. He seems like such a nice guy!"

"He does, doesn't he? I'm sure you'll get along reeeeal well." Dunhill nudged Henry lightly and gave him a wink.

"Oh, joy..."

Henry resisted the urge to tell them both that was more of an asshole than a nice guy, but Dunhill pushed him along again-while the pink haired thing waved them goodbye-as they headed across the road to meet an even bigger asshole.

"I don't have time to deal with a noob farmer," grunted a blonde with messy hair as he lifted crates onto his horse cart.

Dunhill frowned. "Neil! Why do you always have to act like your time is so valuable? What do you even do all day?"

Neil shoved his hands into his pockets. "Tch. I work."

"Stalking people's cows and sneaking into their barns early in the morning isn't work. In fact, it's a little troubling."

"Dunhill, you don't know me! You don't know my life."

Henry decided to interject before things got worse, "Hi, the name's Henry."

"Don't care."

"Wow. Okay. Well you're just a little ray of sunshine, huh?"

"I'm not all rainbows and butterflies, and I don't pretend to be."

"I happen to like rainbows."

"Rainbows are stupid."

"Wow. Masterful retort."

"Would a better retort have been me kicking sand in your eyes?"

Just then Emma, who had snuck over to them in the midst of their fighting, whispered with twisted glee, "The sexual tension between you two is incredible."

"Emma, go back to your stripping!" Dunhill scolded as he dragged Henry away from Neil. The two glared daggers at each other and the distance between them grew as Henry was dragged back across the street to a cute little salon.

He imagined the owner would be a kind, middle aged lady who'd been cutting hair in this village for years. All the people knew her and liked her, and she'd gossip harmlessly with the other ladies when they got their hair done. She probably had a really pretty daughter who liked reading and riding horses.

Henry had never been so wrong before in his entire life.

As soon as they walked in, a little bell above the door chimed and the smell of fancy shampoos hit their noses. At the counter there were two red headed young men talking. The one with the more scarlet hair and a smug look on his face was just finishing the story he'd been telling the other boy, "I'm not saying he was a stupid bitch. But yeah, he was a stupid bitch."

"Allen, Yuri!" Dunhill beamed, walking over to them.

The one in glasses looked up and nodded while the thin, lighter haired fellow turned around and answered meekly, "Hi..."

And then Henry noticed it when Yuri turned to face him. Bam. Titties. Not very noticeable, but Henry began to doubt his initial judgment of the person.

Dunhill continued to introduce Henry to them. "You two, this is Henry-the guy I told you about. He's here to swoop in and spruce up humble, budding village through relentless physical labor and item hoarding! Henry, this here is Allen-there you go, shake hands-and he runs the salon. And this here is Yuri. She's the tailor. Her shop is right next door."

So Yuri was definitely not a boy after all.

But the one thing that made Henry uncomfortable was Allen. He could practically feel the other's judgmental glance as the stylist looked him up from his shoes to his hat. Henry just knew that every piece of his clothing, every little detail that was scuffed and every little hair that was out of place, was being judged.

If Allen were a cake, the first layer would be a fairly attractive metrosexual-maybe-kinda-homosexual guy. The second layer would be a sassy egoist. The third layer would be an elitist who was way too vocal about what was on his mind and didn't mind his words. And the fourth layer would be pure Satanic bitchiness.

And the problem was, you couldn't just bite into Allen cake one layer at a time. You take one bite and you get the whole damn thing.

"Saving the town, hm? Oh, how heroic. Well," Allen propped an elbow up on the counter and leaned forward, a curious and slightly mischievous smile on his lips, "if you ever need assistance with your appearance, I'll gladly help you out. I am, after all, the best at what I do." And then he added with a grin, "From the looks of it, we'll probably need to be seeing each other very often."

Before Henry could make himself look stupid as he fumbled with what to say in return, Yuri chimed in and saved the day, "As Dunhill said... I own the Tailor next door... I can make you clothes if you bring me the material..."

Henry's brows furrowed. "Wait, you're the tailor. Shouldn't you have all the stuff you need to make clothes already? In what ass backwards world does the customer need to bring materials to the manufacturer?"

Dunhill roared with laughter. "Henry! You'll soon realize that everything in this world requires way more effort than it's worth! Come on, I'll introduce you to the architect. Oh, you're gonna love this one, haha!"

"Bye," Allen purred as he and Yuri waved them off.

A very confused and disappointed Henry followed Dunhill down the dirt path a little ways. At the end of the road, they came across the Architect's house. Inside, Henry was introduced to a determined looking woman named Rebecca. She explained her job,

"I create blueprints for buildings, amenities, tools, you name it."

"Wait, why would I want to buy a blueprint? You can't seriously expect me, who has literally no experience in building, to interpret your blue prints and make all these various, complex buildings and structures, right?"

Rebecca laughed. "If it makes you feel better, I sell materials to help in the construction process."

"Well, at least it's something. So you sell everything I could ever need to make essential buildings and cool decorations?"

Rebecca laughed again, harder this time. "Hell no! I only provide just a small, small selection. The rest of the stuff you have to bust your ass for."

Henry stared at her. "That's... fantastic. I'm starting to see a pattern here. You know, I half expected Allen to want me to bring my own damn shampoo for a haircut." Then he mocked in Allen's very recognizable voice, "And bring me two pieces of scrap metal so I can craft together a pair of scissors for this session. Also, your outfit looks very unfabulous today. But that's just my expert assessment."

Dunhill and Rebecca seemed to get a kick out of that, and the architect was still snickering about it as the men headed out.

By that time it was getting a little late so they decided to drop in Chez Clement for lunch. There they met the chef and his assistant. They were both nice enough, and the young lady had a pleasant air about her. Henry didn't like it.

As they ate, Dunhill asked in a hushed voice, "So, what do you think of Felicity?"

Henry stopped, fork halfway into his mouth. "Huh?"

"She's one of Echo Village's bachelorettes. She's pretty cute too!"

"Dunhill, you're like eighty-five years old. Don't call a young woman cute."

"Eighty-five! You say the darndest things, Henry!"

"Yeah, well, she's alright. Sure, she's pretty. But I don't care too much for cheerful people."

"Well, there's plenty o' fish in the sea! Michelle and Yuri are both prime marriage candidates."

"Are we sure that Yuri likes men?"

"Say what?"

Henry winced. "Sorry, that was pretty ignorant of me. Anyway... I dunno, Dunhill. I might have to rule Michelle out."

"And why's that?"

"Have you spent more than five seconds with her?"

"Sure have! She's a very friendly young woman."

"A little too friendly."

Just then the restaurant doors flew open and in walked a dazzling man-no, literally, he kind of sparkled-with an impressive chin and sweeping jawline. Between his fingers was a beautiful red rose. He was handsome and charming in his own right, and Henry was quickly mesmerized.

"Good afternoon, Clement! I'll have the usual, thank you."

That's all it took for the chef to nod knowingly and start preparing a dish for this intriguing, god-like man. Henry could have sworn he noticed Felicity blush and sigh dreamily.

"Charles, good to see you!" Dunhill beamed as he stood up. "Hey, I want you to meet Henry. He's the kid I told you about. The one who'll be taking over after Rachel. Say hi to Charles, Henry."

Henry swallowed. "H-Have my babies."

He gasped. He had he really just said that? Charles must have been giving off a strange, seductive pheromone!

"Pleasure meeting you, Henry! I'm one of the most skilled pilots in the region, and I would be delighted to fly you anywhere your heart desires." Then he winked and leaned in. "But it'll cost you."

Henry felt his loins ignite.

Dunhill had to practically pry Henry out of his seat so they could continue their adventure. The young man couldn't take his eyes off Charles' dazzling figure as he was dragged out of the restaurant.

The west side of town was slightly less eventful. First they came across a young woman named Olivia, who gave off an aroma of chamomile and cherries. Apparently, she ran a tea and dessert stand on the weekends.

Going up a small hill, they came to a row of houses; two on the right and three on the left. On the right lived a spunky looking journalist with questionable hair. Next door to her unnecessarily large house was a cozy, Eastern style home. Outside was a man relaxing under a sun shade and happily chewing on an old, rusty coin.

Yes, he was snacking on an old coin.

Much to Henry's dismay, one of the houses on the left belonged to Michelle. And much to his dismay again, the house next to hers belonged to a youthful, lively blond kid. Henry wasn't sure if was 21 or 12, but his name was Rod.

Next to Rod lived the blacksmith who, coincidentally, didn't do any blacksmithing at all.

Then they hiked up to the upper right hand corner of the town, where Henry met a man who hated life more than he did. Klaus, the local doctor, was a strange looking fellow who was bitter about everything and didn't smile even once during the introduction. Henry knew they'd become best friends.

A little ways down the path from the clinic was a blank and homely lot that Dunhill called the "Gardening Space." After hearing its purpose described, Henry decided he wanted nothing to do with it.

Then they headed west for the upper left hand corner of the town. There stood a gorgeous, exotic mansion and in front of it a lavish fountain and attractive brick plaza with flowery decorations.

"This is where Amir and his male escort live," Dunhill explained.

Henry stopped dead in his tracks. "Say that one more time."

"Huh? Oh, Amir and his male escort!" Then the older man frowned and stroked his beard. "Well, he could'a said either butler, or male escort. I couldn't tell which one. I'm hard at hearing, ya know. Well, go on and give it a knock!' Dunhill urged.

Cautiously, Henry knocked on the gleaming double doors. A few seconds passed before the door opened and a young man with a dark complexion and snow-white hair greeted him, one half inside the mansion and the other half out.

"Oh, good evening. We were not expecting any visitors." But then he saw Dunhill standing behind Henry and he gave them a soft, polite smile. "You must be Henry?" The man stepped out and bowed gently. "I'm sure everyone here is very happy to finally be meeting you."

"Uh, hey," Henry offered, holding up a hand as his greeting.

The man only smiled kindly at Henry's awkwardness. "My name is Sanjay, and I reside here with Master Amir. I watch after this home very carefully, and I am profoundly grateful to Rachel for building it for us. I'm sure your work as Town Coordinator will be no less admirable."

Henry was still trying to figure out if this guy was a male escort or not. 'Master Amir' gave some pretty strong escort-y signals. Henry imagined this 'Amir' character would be an old businessman with gray hair and plenty of concubines lying around his palace.

"Sanjay? Do we have visitor?" A faint voice said from behind Sanjay, somewhere in the house. Seconds later, the actual Amir slipped outside alongside his escort(?) to greet them himself.

And it was the very moment Henry laid eyes on Amir that he saw a glimpse of heaven.

Harps and horns began singing in the background, a glorious white light shone down on Amir's beautiful figure, tears started to form in the corner of Henry's eyes, his loins were ignited once again as a choir of cupids and cherubs burst out in wondrous song, and he forgot all about the nobody he'd met at the restaurant. Charles who?

Only Amir's sweet voice could break him out of his daydream. "Oh, so you're Henry. Dunhill has spoken so many of your praises that he got us all very excited for your coming." He smiled-a glorious, perfect smile-and continued, "Sanjay already introduced us, then?"

Henry chewed on his bottom lip. He couldn't open his mouth. If he did, something bad would come out. But the lovely man had just beckoned to him, and it would be a sin to ignore an angel. Henry made a small grunting noise as he struggled inwardly, but finally his lips parted and he gasped out,

"HOT a What Baabhabhiatahhahahha...!"

The three other man stared at him like in absolute confusion (and perhaps fear).

Amir blinked. "Come again?"

"H-Hi. Henry is, uh... yeah, Henry is my name. Uh... I-I... you're pretty-GAH!" Henry yanked his hat off and ruffled it in frustration. Again, the other three stared at him in confusion and concern. After a few seconds, Henry pulled himself together and slipped his cap back on. "Hi. Name's Henry, but you already knew that. Right... Uh, it's a pleasure meeting you, really." He smiled as best he could. "I promise I'll try not to disappoint everyone as Town Coordinator."

And then Henry started to slowly inch away before he could ruin their image of him even further.

Dunhill noticed. "Hey, where are you going? Henry? Henry!"

Just east of the mansion sat Dunhill's cozy abode. It was there that they parted ways for the evening.

"Well, Henry, aint this a nice little village? We might be an odd bunch at times, but we're all goodhearted, hard workin' people. Now, you go get yourself some well deserved sleep. I'll probably stop by in the morning to annoy you with another unnecessary cut scene."

"I look forward to it, Dunhill. Just make sure you knock beforehand, okay?" Henry turned to leave, but stopped suddenly. After a second or two of silence, he asked, "Hey, who lives over there?"

He was referring to the house across the road. It was a dark, ominous house with a pointed roof that look like a witch's hat.

Dunhill's face quickly paled, and he swallowed. "Don't go near that house. That's all I can say."

Henry was genuinely alarmed but asked no further questions. He waved Dunhill goodbye and found himself walking back home more quickly than he normally would have. Before turning into the main part of town, he looked back to the dark house and gave it one last glance. Then he turned back, pulled his jacket together, and walked off into the cool air of the Spring night.

Henry figured he might as well start a diary, or at least a journal where he could write down all his insulting thoughts and feelings. So, began:

I'm not sure what to think about Allen. I either want to punch him in the mouth or make out with him. Probably both.

Everyone else is either an asshole, scary as hell, or boring. I don't think I've quite met everyone yet, but I have high hopes for the future. Not.

Okay, maybe that was a little pessimistic. Sorry.

I know Dunhill wants me to bone one of the bachelorettes, but I have no idea who I'd court if I were even into that kind of thing. I dunno, maybe Yuri. I dig the boyishness.

I can't stop thinking about that creepy ass witch house. Whoever lives there must be terrifying. Maybe she's some kind of necromancer.

She's probably just a really nice old lady. This town is full of anti-climatic surprises.

I can't stop thinking how I made such an ass of myself in front of Amir and his... escort? Butler?

I really hope Amir is gay.

Henry closed his journal and set it in the drawer in the nightstand. Then he saw the strange note he'd picked up the other night. It still confused the hell out of him, but he secretly hoped he'd find other related letters so he could maybe piece together a coherent story.

Turning off the kerosene lamp, Henry slipped into bed. This time, with wearing boxers.

The cold basement was lit dimly with a candles sitting in a circular formation on the dark, stony floor. A sort of occult symbol was smeared into the stone with a crimson fluid, and around the circle were various objects like bones of animals, an eyeball or two, and several melting scoops of ice cream.

Michelle walked down the creaking wooden stairway as she swatted cobwebs from her face. She stood at the bottom and cleared her throat.

On the other side of the room, past the bloody symbol and the candles, was a hunchbacked figure in a dark cloak.

"Master," she uttered, but the figure did not move. "I am having difficulties finding what you desire."

The old woman in the cloak hissed, "Have you failed your mission, Michelle?"

"It's just that... you require the blood of adult virgins, but there are none in this town! Everyone has either given or received-and some have done both." Michelle sighed in frustration, "Oh, I know Yuri is a virgin, but... she's my best friend. I couldn't do that to her."

"What about the new boy?"

Michelle's eyes widened. "Henry? The guy who just moved in?"

"Yessss..."

"I was hoping he wouldn't stay a virgin for long, if you know what I mean."

"Michelle... do you want your greatest desire? Do you want ultimate power?"

"I do."

"Then stop thinking with your vagina and start thinking with your brain, you fool!"

The candles flickered as a gust of wind threw through the basement from out of nowhere. Michelle gulped.

"Yes, Master."

"If I do not have the blood of a virgin by the next full moon, you will be sorry. Fiery hell wil rain down upon this village and darkness will swallow up mortal soul!"

"Now you're being a little melodramatic, don't you think?"

"Go! Be gone! My hour is almost nigh! But mark my words, Michelle, and hold fast to your promise."

"Yes, Master Sandra. You will have what you want before the next full moon."