Ug. Remember how I predicted that this chapter wouldn't be nearly as long? Well, as a matter of fact, the current wordcount for this mission alone is so long that I had to toil with the decision of splitting it into two parts. Ultimately, I chose to cut what could have reached nearly 18000 words in half, and in doing so I've probably extended this episode to six chapters instead of five.

Honestly, I guess I'm just a bit frustrated to have one mission consume nearly three chapters, but I suppose that's just a bit of poor planning on my part. I hadn't imagined myself going into nearly as much detail as I did, but...I did. :P

On the bright side, this means that the next chapter will probably be finished within the week, as I've already made quite a bit of progress on it. But for now, enjoy the second part of this potentially three-part mission!


Episode 2 (Part 2)

Blue may as well have hurled an unpinned grenade in their direction. The three players felt powerless to do anything but stare back at him from the opposite side of the fence, attempting to process their situation.

Out of professional habit, Bandy Andy's fists slowly curled. "So was today some sort of twisted joke or something?" he spat in frustration at being fooled by their morning aboard a luxury liner.

"Regardless of how well we were shammed," Sushie added, "How are we supposed to acquire blimp tickets anyway? I didn't bring any money with me!"

Sushie: Oh, what a swindler, that Blue! I suppose forgiveness will eventually come around because that massage was simply divine, but I suppose now I can see how being stranded, penniless, in a foreign city, unable to leave could be viewed as a travel nightmare!

The steward, who had previously shut them out, now piped up with some useful information. "Tickets can be purchased at Westside Goods for a discounted price of fifty coins per passenger!" His enthusiasm was hardly reciprocated.

Bandy Andy: That blimp better come with two Veronicas to cost that much.

Pennington turned his attention back towards their host. "Oh, that's hardly probable," he drolled. "I don't suppose you unrealistically expect us to produce bricks without clay, do you?"

In typical casual response, Blue simply pulled out a stick of gum from his pocket and sat down at a bench. "My rules were simple, were they not? As long as all three of you are here with tickets, however you get them, before six o'clock this evening, the money is won." After a few seconds of chewing, he blew a small bubble, which may as well have seemed like a display of mockery.

Bandy Andy frowned as he considered these guidelines, but Pennington couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, 'however' means necessary may as well imply that we just up and steal them," he said as he considered possible loopholes to their task.

"I do believe there's a sort of sanctity in respecting the law," Blue addressed, his eyes widening at the suggestion. "Your entanglement in legal issues would certainly make this game complicated."

"Moreso than you've already made it," Sushie muttered with dismay. Failing to notice any altered display of earnestness in either the host or the steward, she slowly became accepting of their predicament. "Guess we have to figure out how to earn 150 coins in just five hours..."

Bandy Andy's frustration did not dissipate easily. "But how?" he said, almost whining. "It's basically impossible to collect that much money so quickly, especially in a shady town like this one!"

"Hmm...well, if we're to analyze the hand we've been dealt," Pennington commented with a perturbed look, "then I don't suppose it would hurt to give Westside Goods a look?"

Sushie nodded as she considered this possibility. "Hmm...perhaps we could even convince the store manager to pity our circumstances and offer us the tickets for some brief handiwork!"

Deciding they were helpless just standing outside of the blimp yard, the threesome proceeded to head in the direction of the item shop. Although his partners seemed to express some extent of optimism, Bandy Andy remained skeptical. "Yeah...humor me how the head of a mafia syndicate is going to pity us..."


"You sure you know what you're doing, right?"

Vinny huffed as he rolled the spare tire over towards their make-shift repair station. Koover was knelt over as he loosened the last lug nut on the hub of the hissing tire. Surveying the present operation, Nastasia stood at a distance, arms folded across her chest in visible frustration. Mamar, meanwhile, sat helplessly on the side of the road, using the maps as a distraction from the heated conversation.

"Look, Nastasia, I don't exactly see you getting your hands dirty here," voiced the Koopa, who with the assistance of Vinny hoisted the wheel off of the tire hub.

"Obviously, seeing as I'm not the one whose hands are dirty for getting us in this fix in the first place," she spat, glaring directly at a certain Pianta who kept his silence.

"I mean, it's a construction zone for God's sakes!" she continued, her firestorm just beginning. "Most rational people would try driving a bit more carefully rather than purposefully make nightmare road trip memories."

Koover: In fairness, Nastasia was absolutely right. Of all things that could possibly go wrong in our mission, that was like...beyond the allowable error capacity. The fact that it did happen is suspiciously unfortunate.

Nastasia: It irked me considerably, true, but it was also the perfect chain of events to test for Mole suspects. Koover's one of my top suspects, so if he were the Mole, this would be a great window to throw Vinny under the deflated wheel.

"Dis is just one of dose...freak incidents," Vinny defended, grabbing the lug wrench from the ground and working to screw back the lug nuts with further efficiency. "So no need to be a diva about it." The secretary's jaw dropped.

"What did you just call-"

"Oh, give it a break," Vinny groaned, his voice clearly elevated. "You think you're so perfect, huh? You're just da greatest blessing bestowed to us all and we're just your blubbering, incompetent nutsos dat try to destroy your perfect little image. Well reality check: nobody likes a diva, and nobody here likes dat you are one!" The wrench swung from his hands in uncoordinated frustration, hitting the ground with a clang. Nastasia remained silent as Koover irritatedly snatched the tool up before Vinny could lay a hand on it.

Mamar: Oh no...this was not happening right now. In fact, this shouldn't even be happening this early on in the game. How is it possible to have fortified such barriers towards other people in just four days of knowing them? Especially when the rest of us have to get along for who knows how many more...

"Can we please just make work on getting to Petalburg?" Mamar pleaded, looking up from her pile of maps for the first time. "Or better yet, let's make it to Glitzville tonight."

"Well, almost done repairing our tire," Koover remarked tensely, screwing the last nut in place. "Meanwhile, let's work on repairing our attitudes." He took a few seconds to look at everyone in his group, all of whom were somewhat distanced from one another. A few seconds later, he motioned for Vinny to help him out with lowering the vehicle. With the new tire safely on the ground, the duo safely removed the jack and relocated it to the trunk of the van.

"If there's no objections, I'll drive," he added, holding out his hands for the keys. Vinny didn't even look at him before tossing them his way, climbing into the passenger's seat and slamming the door in the process. Mamar and Nastasia made no further commentary as they climbed quietly into the back, more than ready to reembark.


"Please hold on. Now approaching 'B' gates."

The second the doors opened, a frantic group of four swiftly diffused out of the tram. "Please oh please still be there," Goombella begged, pausing momentarily to take in the new scene. She turned around in panic, realizing that the tram was already departing from their station, meaning they would have to wait for the next to arrive.

Peach: Losing all of our spending cash could have easily blown that entire mission for all of us. I mean, if you're going to take responsibility for something, it should never leave your possession. That pedometer never left my side, nor did I forget about its presence. So for Ms. Mowz, who I'd like to respect as a very cunning player, to let the fanny pack out of her hands like that was incredibly suspicious.

"All right, what bench were you dearies at?" Ms. Mowz asked, recalling how she and Peach had left them earlier.

"Literally right outside the restrooms," Dimentio said, pointing to the exact location. "You know, the restrooms which distracted Peach and Ms. Mowz enough to rack up some more steps and dispose of the fanny pack like it were a finished apple core."

Ms. Mowz merely batted her eyes at this accusation. "Yes, 'disposed' of. In your lap. In your very reckless hands."

"Oh no," Goombella muttered as they arrived at what they recalled to be their bench. Other travelers had made themselves comfortable around the spot they had claimed earlier, so the players tried scoping around them as noninvasively as possible.

"Excuse me sir, did you notice a green fanny pack when you sat down?" Peach inquired of a Toad gentleman sitting behind a newspaper. Surprised, the man looked up, startled by the presence of the princess.

"Oh, your highness!" he exclaimed, bowing softly before her. "No, I cannot say I've seen anything of the sort." Then, he proceeded to rub his glasses and, squinting, said, "Call me crazy, but did I notice you earlier in a-"

"Oh, um, sorry to disturb your reading," Peach said as she frantically returned his newspaper to him. "Enjoy your crosswords, I'm sure they'll be a great distraction, er, activity..." Her face turned white as she distanced herself from him as much as possible.

Dimentio paced in frustration as he nonchalantly snooped around passengers' luggage items. "Nope, of all the ways for the Mole to lose money today, I refuse to allow them to literally lose the money," he voiced in frustration, alerting some of the waiting travelers to his frisking techniques.

Then out of nowhere, an airport security officer approached them. "Pardon me madam, but I was just about to take this unattended bag to security lost and found," he told Goombella. Her face lit up as he protruded the missing fanny pack from behind his back.

"Yes, we just came back for that!" she exclaimed, almost hugging the officer in jubilee.

Goombella: Come to think of it, it was pure luck that he wasn't suspicious about the bulky weight of it and didn't bother to inspect the contents. I'm not sure he would have returned it without interrogation had he seen the ridiculous coinage we were toting.

"Never trust a man with you purse," Ms. Mowz teased as she snapped the fanny pack back around her waist. Dimentio was about to raise an objection but decided against it in the positive spirit of returned riches. "Well, let's stroll back to the tram shall we? What's our timeline looking like?"

Dimentio peered over Peach's shoulder to glance at the airline departures bulletin. But when he saw the time, he couldn't help to compare it to a certain airline departure they were expected to take.

Dimentio: And then the concern wasn't even about the pathetic fanny pack...but the horrifying reality that we had roughly half an hour to make it back to our terminal in time.


1:00PM

Elsewhere across the Mushroom continent, three stranded travelers were making their way through Rogueport's western side, but with zero coins to their name. Despite its wealthier upkeep, the criminal reputation of the town still managed to creep its way into the town's surroundings.

Noticing two Doogans stumble drunkenly out of the Pianta Parlor, Sushie clung closer to Pennington's side. "Remind me never to complain about staying in the same place again," Sushie stated, already wishing she could be back in Flower Fields' more peaceful atmosphere.

"Well, I'm certainly no stranger to the world of crime," Pennington boasted with as lighthearted of a chuckle as he could muster, given their situation.

"Please be kind to us," Bandy Andy said as the trio arrived outside Westside Goods. His face perked up when he saw the attractive young clerk restocking Super Shrooms.

"Hi hi, and welcome to Westside Goods!" Peeka greeted, offering the Bandit and his partners an inviting smile. "How may I be of assistance today?"

Bandy Andy: Nope, Veronica totally ruined my trust in cute, flirtatious Boos.

"Don't mind us, we just wish to speak to your manager," Pennington said, shuffling past the Boo. To his alarm, Peeka intercepted his path for the back door.

"And under what conditions do you expect the Boss would meet with folks like you?" she snapped, the cheerful buzz from her welcome changing dramatically. "Gonna need the password to get past me, hon."

Bandy Andy: Yep, totally ruined.

Pennington shot the clerk a suspicious glance as he fell back into place. "Well, we have an extraneous predicament of sorts," he explained carefully. "You see, the three of us are heading to Glitzville this afternoon and seem to have misplaced our tickets. We were hoping your boss could throw us a bone: perhaps let us help with some busy work in exchange for tickets?"

"Please, it's absolutely urgent that we get to Glitzville!" Sushie pleaded, adopting a desperate mantra. "Our friend Bandy Andy here is competing in the ring this evening and if he misses a match, he'll lose his place as a fighter!" Peeka nodded cautiously, sizing up the Bandit athlete.

"Don't look like much of a fighter to me."

Bandy Andy: Absolutely, indefinitely, completely ruined.

"Look, we're more than willing to buy tickets, we just have no cash on us," Pennington explained. "Assuming pity is not worth the appeal, is there anything we can do around here to pay our way somehow?"

To their surprise, Peeka pointed them to the door. "Your best bet is going to be the Trouble Center over on the east side of town. I can only sell them to you at their fifty-coin face value." Then out of nowhere, the cheerful persona they had encountered at the door switched back on. "Toodle-oo!" With that, the players left the store empty-handed, realizing that paying their way would require them to take upon odd jobs in the Rogueport community.


"I'll be hungrily waiting for you, with your champion ticket in all of its glory!"

"Dis Bub-ulber fellow is about ta be hungry for a knuckle sandwich," Vinny complained, the audio cassette having repeated itself multiple times during their trip. To their relief, the van had recently passed by the town limits sign for Petalburg, and Koover was currently following Mamar's directions towards the vague red circle on the map.

"Okay, now that we're here, let's try asking around a bit," Mamar suggested, rolling down her window. Koover slowed the van as they approached a group of three Koopas on an afternoon stroll through town.

"Excuse me, but do you know anything about a competition taking place in Petalburg today?" Koover asked them from the driver's seat.

Mamar proceeded to hand them the map, pointing specifically to the red circle. "Perhaps something to do with a hungry champion somewhere in this area? Maybe by the name of Bub-ulber?" This clarification seemed to work, as one of them began nodding hastily.

"Yeah! I actually just came back from watching my cousin compete in a hot dog eating contest," one of them stated excitedly. "Here, I can direct you guys there if you want!"

"Wait, seriously?" Vinny asked, surprised by how straightforward this appeared to be. "By all means, hop in den!"

As their newly recruited navigator said goodbye to his friends and climbed aboard, Nastasia made minimal adjustments to compensate for more space, apparently skeptical of this strangers' legitimacy. "Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead and say that I don't trust this decision one bit. No way are we supposed to find it this easily." From the front seat, Vinny turned to Koover and struggled to let out a silent sigh.

Vinny: Of course, she would protest dat. She protested at da fortress, so what's ta prevent from her from doing what she does best and protesting dis ticket too?


When the tram doors opened at Gate E, the scene which ensued was just as frenetic as it had been back retrieving the fanny pack at B Gate. Despite their plane being stationed at terminal D, the players had decided to take the tram a gate farther, compensating for any possible disqualification over their vehicle's duration. Their challenge was now to traverse the distance of an entire terminal before boarding closed for their flight to Rogueport.

Dimentio bolted out of the tram doors before the chipper intercom voice could even finish. "Run with purpose, people," he instructed authoritatively, sidestepping an elderly couple as he ran off from the platform. "Anybody who slows down is asking to be Mole meat."

"Graphic and overboard," Ms. Mowz groaned, clutching the fanny pack around her waist protectively as she sped to keep up with the magician. "But if we miss our flight..."

"We shouldn't even have bothered going the extra station," Peach fussed as she cautiously maneuvered her around suitcases and travelers. "And all for what, a vehicle that may or may not get qualified?" She noticed a slidewalk up ahead and decided to deviate from the group to take it instead.

Realizing that one of them had fallen behind, Goombella spun around to notice that Peach had stopped running for the temporary ride. "Oh, and so not running is going to help the present situation?" she criticized.

"Well if we have to run so far anyway, might as well make sure the pedometer-"

"Screw the pedometer!" Dimentio shouted, motioning forcefully for the princess to pick up the pace. "We're talking about missing our flight altogether, and now you're concerned about our steps?!"

With a huff, Peach resumed a faster walking stride. "You don't get to twist this fiasco on me, Dimentio. Not when it was your mistake that's the reason we aren't already boarded."

"My mistake?" Dimentio spat defensively. "How about we cast the spotlight on the real suspect here, right Ms. Mowz?"

"Can we just run?!" Ms. Mowz said with a nervous shout, suppressing any arising feud. "Look dearies, our terminal is just up those stairs." She pointed ahead to the long staircase and escalators which led up from the subway platform.

Ms. Mowz: Although I love my fair share of drama, arguing with Dimentio is so counter-intuitive. His flawless self-image is just insatiable, and to what may be seen as a tremendous shock to him, hardly charming.

As the players approached the staircase, some elected to cautiously scale the steps while others clambered up the escalator, weaving around other travelers. "We're almost there!" Goombella cried out in a burst of breathlessness as the adrenaline built up. And that adrenaline promptly skyrocketed when the airport intercom rang:

"Final boarding call for Fire Flower Airways Flight 811 to Rogueport."


To make the van ride more enjoyable for their newly recruited passenger, Mamar attempted to strike up conversation with their local guide. "So, an environmental engineering major?" she asked with earnest interest. "Sounds like a lot of coursework!"

"Hey, um, where is Koover supposed ta turn again?" Vinny asked from the front seat.

"Oh yeah! Um, the town plaza is on your right," the Koopa Troopa straggler explained. Koover, currently in the left lane, sighed as he attempted to maneuver their vehicle across two lanes of traffic.

"Ow!" Nastasia exclaimed. Having been leaning against the window, the swift movement of the van was not met with warm regard. "Can we please focus more on finding the contest?" She glared at their guest, which Mamar noticed with alarm.

"Um...hey, I think this is it up here!" she said, hoping to suppress any further hostility, especially towards their guide. Sure enough, the plaza appeared shortly, marked by a variety of canvas tents and carnival balloons. Koover lucked out in finding an open space along the curb. Mamar tried to thank their local navigator, but the young student was quick to distance himself from them.

"Okay...now to find dis hot dog eating contest," Vinny said plainly. Having no other direction but a name, the foursome headed inside of the Petalburg fairgrounds, hot on the hunt for hot dogs.


The Trouble Center, located in Eastside Rogueport, was hardly an attractive tourist icon. After clarifying with a local that the building of interest was more than just a sign-less door, Pennington led the way inside.

"This feels like such a desperate way to earn money," Sushie commented with disdain, concerned about the empty atmosphere of the place. She frowned as she stared ahead at the counter, which was little more than a small window with a microphone.

"Perhaps we'll have better luck actually finding some tasks on the board," Pennington suggested. He was referring to the main attraction of the Trouble Center: a bulletin board with a cluttered array of tacked help-wanted ads, some thoroughly designed and others seemingly scribbled upon last minute.

Bandy Andy grabbed a random ad from the wall. "Find this guy!" he read, a bit too loudly. "I'm looking for this guy who frauded my credit card the other day...AGAIN! Find that Bandit and give him a good thumping!...um, Bandit?" He awkwardly tacked the flier back to the board as Sushie clutched her stomach with concern.

"Thumping? That just sounds so barbaric...is this even legal?" she asked, shooting Pennington a panicked look. The detective shared additional apprehensions and decided to approach the counter.

"Hey, what kind of joint are you folks running here?" he asked accusingly, knocking on the wood a couple of times as to alert whoever may be sleeping on the other side. It didn't come to too much surprise to him that nobody responded.

Pennington: My instincts were to get to the bottom of this mystery...but now was neither the time nor place. Truth is, it was barely our place or time to be seeking questionable work with questionable wages in such a questionable location. This whole assignment just raised too many questions...

"There has to be something that pays well...without risking our lives," Bandy Andy encouraged, deciding to be more deliberate about scanning through potential job offers. "We just need something that pays handsomely on the fast and easy."

"Oh, here's a generous offer," Sushie noticed as she pointed to fancily decorated ad. "Fifty coins for anyone who can transfer a totally-not-that-suspicious package out of my hands! I'll be the shady fellow outside the Toad House in Petalburg..." Her voice sank, both after discovering the offer was not only in a different town, but again sounded criminal.

Pennington frowned as he combed through advertisement after advertisement, which proved to be a delicate process of weeding out sketchy deals from safer offers. "To be honest, I doubt we're going to have much luck finding three tasks which will add up to what we need," he rationalized, "so we may as well just find the easiest tasks to complete and hope that they all add up in the end."

"Hey Sushie, this one would be good for you," Bandy Andy remarked, handing her the flier he had been examining. "A certain Goombretta needs help preparing floral decorations for her sister's engagement party. Offering 2 coins for every completed bouquet, up to thirty total." The Cheep Cheep snatched the paper introspectively.

"Well, a Goombretta sounds much less like a ruffian than most of these," she reasoned. "Plus that's sixty coins altogether! I suppose I'll take that one." She smiled, happy that her task didn't seem particularly difficult or dangerous.

Sushie: To think I was complaining about Flower Fields earlier this morning. Now, I was going to be dependent on flowers of all things to be my saving grace.

"I think that's the best offer we'll find," Pennington observed as Sushie headed off to her assignment. "Here, you take this one, Andy. Offering thirty coins to load crates down at the harbor. Backbreaking work, but shouldn't take all afternoon."

"Ug, that sounds so boring," Bandy Andy whined, looking over his task dejectedly. "But I guess it's better than mugging a mugger, so I'll take it." He proceeded to walk out of the Trouble Center before stopping at the entrance, a new idea surfacing.

"Hey, what if you and I double-team this task?" Bandy Andy offered, which perked Pennington's interest. "It doesn't sound like difficult labor, so if we plow through it, we might get done way faster than we would with us soloing two different jobs."

Pennington processed this thought as he continued to survey the help-wanted board, but unable to find a stand-out offer to retaliate with, decided follow him out the door. "Oh well, beggars can't be choosers I suppose," he said with a chuckle as they headed off to seek a decent day's wages at the docks.


The Toad stewardess offered a friendly smile to the young Shy Guy kid whose family was the last to board. Seeing that no other passengers were present at the terminal, she hung up her intercom, removed the ruffles from her blouse, and proceeded to close the gate leading to the gangway.

"Wait!" Grabbing her keys, she looked up with surprise at the sounds of a frantic individual sprinting erratically through the airport. "Please wait, we still need to board!"

Dimentio was the first to arrive after making the maddening dash to the gate. The stewardess groaned inaudibly, unpleasant towards the prospect of confronting late passengers. "Sir, I'm sorry, but that was the final boarding call," she explained to him with pained politeness. "I'm afraid you're a few minutes too late."

"But the plane hasn't even left yet!" Goombella protested, second to catch up to Dimentio. She pointed frantically to the aircraft which they could see from the window. "You have to let us on, we paid for our tickets!"

"Ma'm I'm sorry, but the gates are closed, and the pilots are about to disembark. You can contact the airline reservations office and they can schedule you for a later flight, but that's the best I can do."

Goombella: This should not have happened. We were at the airport hours before our departure time, and we somehow still managed to dillydally to the point of being late. I was just so furious at that point that I didnt even want to think about the Mole having a role in this.

"Just a second," came a voice behind them. Peach, having caught up to the others, calmly approached to stewardess. "Excuse me," she began sweetly, "but it is absolutely imperative that we make it to Rogueport on this flight for, um, diplomatic reasons."

"Oh, your highness!" the Stewardess exclaimed, turning a bright shade of pink. "How privileged are we that you should choose our humble airline this afternoon! But, if I may be so bold, why aren't you taking your private jet this afternoon?"

Dimentio: Wouldn't that have been a treat?

Sweat began to bead around Peach's forehead. "Um, well, you see...I..."

"The majesty, you see, is hoping to expand our Kingdom's budget on transportation," Ms. Mowz improvised, stooping in to Peach's aid. "And in doing so, she wants to travel alongside her citizens to assess the quality and efficiency of our airlines." She nodded, as though reassuring herself that the fibs she was spewing were legitimate.

Peach: Yes, I pulled out the princess card today as a last resort. Sue me.

"Not to mention, I have a very important conference in Rogueport this afternoon that I absolutely must attend," she finished, clasping her hands together as if to plead for the stewardess's mercy.

"Here, let me make a quick call to the pilot," the stewardess proposed. "Normally we cannot allow on late passengers for security purposes, but given the situation I'm sure they'll be willing to make an exception.

"Oh, thank you so much!" Goombella said with enthusiasm. "I know the princess will speak highly of Fire Flower Airways in her press release this afterno-" Dimentio began to cough loudly, interrupting Goombella from being able to contribute anything else to the conversation. The Goomba girl promptly shut up, not wanting to overextend the truth any farther beyond credibility.

"Please oh please let us on this flight," Ms. Mowz said, crossing her fingers as she anxiously watched the phone call take place. Peach and Dimentio both paced back and forth nervously as they glanced outside the terminal window, able to see the pilot speaking into his headset from inside the cockpit. Then came the news.

"Alright, the pilot has informed me that I can let you folks board," the stewardess replied. Her confirmation was met with mixed reactions of relief as she proceeded to scan the plane tickets of the four tardy air travelers. By a stroke of luck, their third mode of transport was solidified.


2:00PM

Loud cheers erupted as a new batch of competitors stepped up to the row of picnic tables to test the strength of their guts. At the head of the table, a stopwatch was started, as five Petalburg residents began reaching for hot dogs from the plates in front of them, stuffing them into their faces as fast as possible.

"Yeah, this is just a bit too vulgar for my tastes," Nastasia complained, feeling uncomfortable around the gluttonous environment they had walked into.

Vinny stared at the rapid action with a frown. His stomach growled, reminding him that breakfast had already long passed, and that the possibilities of lunch was unknown. "I could go for about fifty of dese," he exaggerated as he rubbed his stomach in hunger.

"Guess you're hungrily awaiting Bub-ulber just as much as he's hungrily waiting for us," Koover jested, reciting the looped recording that had been hammered endlessly into their heads for the past hour.

Mamar tapped the shoulder of a participant who had just finished his round. "Excuse me, do you know of anybody here by the name of Bub-ulber?" she asked. She took a few steps backward when she realized that his mouth was still full of hot dogs, rendering him unable to form proper sentences.

"Is someone looking for me?" The Star Spirit turned around, noticing a rather plump Bub-ulb stepping forward from the crowd. "Ah, you must be my Mole players!" he said cheerily, drawing the attention of the others to gather around him. "Congratulations on finding me! Your ticket and next clue are included in this envelope!" Koover's eyes carefully watched as Mamar received the envelope with gratitude.

Koover: Mamar found both of the first two tickets, but already had the first one reserved for her. This second ticket was therefore fair game for the rest of us, and I wasn't about to let Vinny intimidate me out of claiming it for myself.

"Please tell me these directions aren't so last-century," Nastasia said as Mamar gently ripped open the envelope. Peering over her shoulder, she raised an eyebrow when she noticed what the contents were.

"It's a bunch of photographs," Mamar said with perplexity. Her fingers shuffled through the pictures, which appeared to be a series of scenic photographs, all of which were snapped sometime recently. As she began sifting through the images, Koover held his hand out for the envelope, which she unconsciously gave him as her focus was turned elsewhere.

"Nothing else in the envelope but the ticket," Koover explained, allowing Vinny to see for himself. "Are we supposed to put these together and create a map, maybe?"

"Dat'd make sense," Vinny conjectured as he stood over their shoulders. "But dey just seem like dey were taken from da back of a scooter. It's just pictures of streets."

Nearby, the latest hot dog-eating bout had just concluded, and the cheers from the crowd forced Mamar to raise her voice just to be heard by the others. "You know, maybe it's like a trail we have to follow. Look!" She showed the first few pictures to Nastasia, pointing out the features on the first photograph. The image appeared to be taken on a street in Petalburg, the road ahead converging into a brick bridge. To the right of the bridge was a small hill, at the top of which rested what appeared to be an item shop of sorts.

"That has to be somewhere nearby," she explained, the excitement bubbling up as she felt herself getting closer to interpreting the nature of the photos. "I bet if we just follow these pictures, the last one should lead us right to wherever our third ticket is at-OH!"

Pumped up by a new record, a fairly massive Toad from the competition stepped back from his table to give out a victory cry. Just as he took that step, however, Mamar had shuffled just behind him. As a result, the two ended up colliding with one another at the exact moment that Mamar was about to hand off her pile of photographs to Nastasia. But rather than make contact with Nastasia's hands, the photographs flew from Mamar's grasp, whirling into the air and scattering across the grass.

Mamar: Oh no...it all just happened in slow-motion. Of all the things that could possibly go wrong, and I allowed the photographs to get scrambled up. I was ready to lose it at that point.

"Ey buddy, watch where you're going!" Vinny hollered after the stuffed Toad, who just shrugged his shoulders and walked off.

"Careful, try to keep them in the same order," Koover instructed as both he and Nastasia knelt down to scoop up the array of photographs as closely as possible to the arrangement they were in before the spill.

Mamar, meanwhile, looked mortified. "I'm so sorry guys," she apologized, clutching her bow tightly. "That...should...not have happened." She turned to face Nastasia, who did not return eye contact.

"Uh huh," was all that Nastasia said as she forcefully returned the photographs she had gathered to the Star Spirit. The group watched as the secretary stormed off, blowing off steam from the frustration of the situation.

"Well, you coming?" she called back, apparently heading back to their van. Vinny clenched his fists, taking a deep breath as they followed suit. With two tickets down, the players still had two more to collect before they could check in at Rogueport Station. Less than four hours remained to collect them, and everything about that time felt scrambled.


Happy that her task had her returning to the more conventional west side of Rogueport, Sushie calmly escalated the steps to the apartment listed on her trouble. As she waited for the apartment owner to answer the doorbell, she took a moment to breathe in the pleasant aroma of flowers from the pots that were scattered around the porch railings.

"Oh, you must have taken on my trouble!" came the voice from the other side of the door. Expecting to see a youthful Goomba girl in her twenties, Sushie was surprised by the emergence of a woman much more advanced in age, well beyond that of herself. "Well, do come in! I could certainly use some more workers! My sister will be so happy!"

"Um, more workers?" asked Sushie innocently. As Goombretta slowly guided her through the apartment complex, she realized that she had not been the only one hired for the task. On the floor, two unknown citizens of Rogueport sat carefully preparing their own floral arrangements. One of them, a purple Squeek, nodded politely at Sushie as she wrapped a bow around the daisies she had recently pruned.

Sushie: I didn't know what surprised me more: that her sister was getting married, or that I would have to compete against these complete strangers for the money. Well, I guess the latter shouldn't have been too surprising: sounds awfully similar to what I'm already doing in this game.


Bandy Andy and Pennington, meanwhile, had just been informed by a Bob-omb sailor what their assignment would be. A union strike had cut into the number of available workers that day, so the duo had been hired to help unload the latest shipment of mangoes from Keelhaul Key to pick up the slack.

"Hoo...somehow, every challenge I compete in turns physical," Pennington remarked as he pushed the crate towards Bandy Andy, who gently guided it towards the gangway. In his mind, he was reminded of pumping water in the previous mission.

"Careful, careful!" cried Bandy Andy. Being on the bottom slope of the gangway, he was left in an awkward position to receive the mango crate. Pennington was a bit too rushed in the delivery, and as a result Bandy Andy struggled to intercept the sliding crate. The corner of the crate hit a groove on the gangway, hurdling it forward. Andy scrambled out of the way as hundreds of mangoes rolled out, most of which landed in the harbor.

"Ay! What the blazes are you buffoons doing?" Their overseeing sailor stormed angrily toward them, kicking one of the mangoes off of the dock in outrage. "I'm paying for you to ease the workload, not increase it!"

Pennington placed his fins on his hips as he cautiously walked down the gangway, picking up two mangoes along the way. "Look, my strengths are probably better suited elsewhere. Especially my wit," he said, humility aside. He shoved the mangoes into Bandy Andy's hands. "Perhaps I should head back to the Trouble Center and choose a different trouble while you finish up."

Bandy Andy: It was interesting to play this mission with both Sushie and Pennington, especially as one of the youngest players in this game. Like, the way they approach things is totally different than how I would. And I'm beginning to realize how easy it would be to just brush them off, which is sooooo not a smart move in a game like this. Or, y'know, in life in general.

The fighter looked around at the scattered fruit in exasperation. "I mean, it was my idea, so it's your call," he finally said, shoving aside any emotions. "Just now I have to figure out how to collect these..."

"You're ruining the goods!" hollered their temporary boss from the ship. "Go on, get 'em out! Now!" The sudden pressure startled Bandy Andy, who, not knowing exactly how to respond at that moment, jumped in the water, much to the alarm of Pennington.

"Cold! Cold!" he shuttered, quickly swimming back to the dock ladder. He grabbed a mango along the way, as if to justify his spontaneous entry.

"You know, you could have just grabbed a net," Pennington said with a smile, proud to display his gifted wit. He awkwardly pointed out the tool before heading back to town, leaving Bandy Andy to clean up the mess as he left to find different means of raising money.

Bandy Andy: Oh my god that water was not very warm or clean why did I impulsively do that oh my god.


Two flight attendants pushed the beverages cart past the two rows where the players were seated at. Compared to the frenetic rush at the airport, the pressure inside the cabin had certainly been modified for their comfort.

With little to do on board but appreciate the flight, Peach occupied her time with one of the magazines. "Such a meager snack to satisfy us over through lunch," she remarked with disappointment as she popped open a bag of peanuts. "But I suppose it beats starving."

"Honestly, is food really the top priority in your head?" Dimentio asked, as though ridiculing her actions. "We are actively partaking in a mission right now. Money is at stake, you know, and it's ticking away on your very hip."

"Perhaps a poor choice of words during a flight," she nitpicked, "though I'll admit, the sooner I can forget about this thing, the better."

"But you can't forget about it, princess. Nor can you forget what's happening right over your shoulder." Unsure whether he or not he was referring to her literal shoulder, Peach glanced behind her to observe her two fellow passengers engaged in friendly chitchat with one another.

"Goombella and Ms. Mowz?" Peach asked, trying to clarify his purpose. "Does it seriously strike you as suspicious that they're interacting like any cordial people would?"

"Suspicious? Oh princess, I didn't expect you would be so naive," he chuckled, making him the only one to find the situation amusing. "As a politician, I imagined your perceptive skills were much more sharpened. Especially when an alliance is forming right under our noses." Peach gave him a quizzical look, before turning back around to evaluate the duo for herself.

"So, two people talking now justifies a coalition?" she clarified with skepticism.

Dimentio grinned, turning over in his seat to watch the view from the window. "You tell me," he muttered, "who's dealing the cards and who's bluffing." And with that, it was clear to Peach the conversation had ended.

Peach: Dimentio is...certainly one of the most unique characters in this game. It'd be impossible to reduce him to just one or two personality types, because he is such an expressive player when it comes to his emotions. Like, he'll be maniacally serious during a mission, and suddenly he'll be playing the comedian, then the next second he's back to his calculating personality. With so many different sides to him, there's no way to know which one is the bona fide Dimentio...if any of these roles even are.


"Okay, here's the next picture to be on the look out for," Mamar instructed, handing Vinny the photo so he could look at it from the front seat and navigate Koover. In the back seat, Mamar and Nastasia were sorting through two stacks of photos: the first of which had survived the scatter, the second of which was scrambled up. It became clear to them that the order did matter, as the unscrambled photos had been relatively easy to follow.

Nastasia: If I'm going to try to find something positive about the situation, at least we could figure out the first few landmarks. But none of it mattered if we had absolutely no idea where we were supposed to go. That's what irked me.

"Alright, it appears ta be another road sign," Vinny instructed as he studied the photograph. "Can't make out what street it is, dough."

"Well, are there any weird features around it?" Koover asked, unsure how to differentiate such a nondescript image while driving.

"Um, dere's a trio of Candy Canes to da right of da sign," Vinny speculated. "Here, take a look for yourself."

Koover, who was currently driving on a rural highway just outside of Petalburg, had no difficulties pulling over to inspect the photo. "You know, there has to be a more efficient way for you to know where you're going," Nastasia voiced as Koover carefully inspected another photograph.

"I agree, Nastasia, but there's not much more I can do when you all still haven't figured out what order we need to follow them in," he protested. Then suddenly, his eyes widened as he took a closer look at the image. "Wait...we've totally passed this sign already!"

"What?" Vinny exclaimed, grabbing the photo back to check for himself. "Um, no way. Dat sign looks like every other sign we've come across on this road."

"But take a look at the windmill in the background," Koover explained, highlighting the icon for everyone in the van. "It only has three vanes as opposed to four, which totally matches the one we drove past a few minutes ago." Realizing that he was right, Nastasia fell dead silent.

Mamar sighed, staring with disappointment at the unorganized cluster of photos. "Are we misidentifying pictures in that case? Because we've used at least one different photograph as a reference between here and back there," she pointed out, raising even more undesirable questions about their mission.

Vinny: Don't ask any of us ta be your tour guides, because we drove ourselves straight through hell today.

"Okay, I'm going to turn around and get us to that sign," Koover stated, taking the initiative after a few seconds of silence. "Meanwhile, you guys figure out what needs to happen to get us back on track."

"But what all can we do?" Mamar asked as she picked up both stacks of photographs, wanting more than anything to just toss them out the window. "But seriously though, I'm sorry for bumping into that Toad, but unless we just memorize every single image and hope we can recognize the landmarks when we see them, I don't see how else we can complete this mission."

While her fellow passengers brainstormed ways of going about their crisis of sorts, Nastasia was focused on one photograph in particular. "...yeah, um, maybe we don't need to focus on every photograph." Without warning she delicately slipped the instant image out of its pile to show the rest of them. "Maybe we just need to focus on one."

Vinny turned around to examine for himself what it was that Nastasia was referencing. The image in particular was hardly exciting: they could clearly make out what appeared to be their third ticket squeezed into the groove of a cobblestone fence in the shadows of a nearby tree. "Dis? Dis is worthless," he disregarded, immediately handing the image back to her. "What are we supposed ta do with a zoomed in ticket dat may as well be anywhere in dis kingdom!" Nastasia took offense to this brash response, though truthfully had been expecting it.

"Yeah, you can just shut up for ten seconds," she voiced, not letting him undermine her point. "We don't need to know and follow every photo if we can piece the end of the puzzle together so we know where we're supposed to go." Mamar caught on to this idea and began shuffling together all of the photos, to the horror of Koover.

"Wait, don't intermix the ones that have gotten us this far!" he exclaimed, fearful that they had just lost the ability to retrace their earlier steps.

To her surprise, Nastasia found herself getting excited as she and Mamar swiftly combed over the images for any reference points that might indicate their final destination. "What about this one," Mamar asked. Both Koover and Vinny were left oblivious to whatever it was that she had chosen to show Nastasia.

For perhaps the first time in their entire van voyage, Nastasia offered the slightest hint of a smile. "Does that look like a castle to you?" she smirked, finally revealing the photograph to the driver and copilot in the front seat. In the photograph, the chains of what appeared to be a drawbridge were the highlights, but in the background was the shape of what appeared to be a tower, the cobblestone matching perfectly with that of the photo taken of their precariously placed ticket.

Vinny: Surprise, surprise. Da bat girl proves herself competent for once.


3:00PM

Pennington paused for a moment outside of the Trouble Center. "Time for round two, I suppose," he smirked, already pessimistic about having to perform whatever task would be necessary to afford the price of a blimp ticket. He caught the time out of the corner of his eye, and grew somewhat tense: the time was just past three o'clock, meaning only three hours remained for them to finance their trip.

As he screened through the help-wanted ads, he was apprehended by a familiar face. "Good afternoon, Pennington," came the voice of Blue, who had entered the Trouble Center behind the Bumpty. "I hope you enjoyed success in your first trouble!"

"Don't suppose you're here to pity me in my own trouble," the detective said with a chuckle. "Not like I've had any luck today helping people with theirs."

"Now, now, you didn't abandon a request, did you?" Blue asked, almost disapprovingly. "You are aware, after all, that the Trouble Center has a strict policy for people who don't complete their troubles. A penalty, so to speak." This was enough to make Pennington sweat a little as he began to reconsider what he had done.

Pennington: The important thing, during an interrogation, is to never show any indication of weakness. Always play the game as if you have the upper hand, even when you have scant firepower to operate on. All you need is for your opponent to be convinced enough of their bluff that they fold their cards long enough for you to catch a glimpse of their deck. Perhaps even a Mole's deck.

"It is a capital mistake to theorize in advance of the facts," Pennington said through his teeth. "For technically that trouble is not abandoned if Bandy Andy is still at the docks finishing up." His excuse seemed to work as the host laughed himself, choosing to back off from the topic.

"Well, I'm not here to rat you out over policies," Blue explained, glancing from Pennington to the tiny window by the desk. "It's just terribly boring to arrive at a station five hours ahead of schedule with nobody to keep you company."

Pennington shook his head, not willing to offer their cruel host any of his own pity. "The generosity of your heart could also be strong enough to chip in for our tickets," he proposed with a grin. "That would solve both your loneliness and our stress. Two birds, one stone?" He laughed to himself as he continued sifting through some of the ads. He became curious, however, when the conversation did not continue.

When he looked up, Blue had produced a blimp ticket.

"I have an offer that could alleviate some of your stress," he explained in reference to the ticket. "For the low cost of five thousand coins."

"Ha ha, let me just pull out my gold bars," Pennington replied sarcastically. "But wait: is this money coming from the group pot?"

"More like your potential winnings for this mission," Blue clarified. "So rather than competing to earn 15000 coins, that total would be reduced to only 10000."

"But consequentially, we would only need to raise 100 coins for two other tickets," the Bumpty considered, as he juggled these two considerations in his head. "Which may not be necessary, considering Sushie could earn a full sixty coins and Bandy Andy could add thirty to that." He paused to grab a trouble which only offered ten coins, wondering if that would be all he needed should he accept Blue's deal.

"Oh, how the mystery thickens," he smirked. As he scratched his forehead, his elbow bumped the magnifying glass he carried in his suit pocket. Blue could only offer his classic, devilish as the detective was left to ponder the potential consequences of this decision. In the corner of his eye, he could spot the fateful ticket waving playfully in the host's hand.

Pennington: The choice was rudimentary: subtract five thousand to earn ten thousand, or subtract nothing to risk earning nothing. The host threw me a curveball for sure, and now the very fate of this mission was unwelcomingly thrust into my court. But...um...that was exactly how I'd aimed for it to be.


So there it is! Bleh. Wished I didn't need to cut it short, but hopefully being able to release the next chapter within the week will justify this decision. Not sure whether this will alter the fate of the episode from five chapters to six, but I guess that's of little concern. An update is an update, I suppose!

LEONPIANTA: Hey, thanks so much for your review! It's awesome to see that you're still around and kicking. Also, happy to know you've got a favorite! (An easy to predict one at that, haha)

BRITTKIP: Thanks again for reviewing! I'm glad to know people are enjoying the story, as it definitely encourages me to keep writing. Looking forward to hearing some of your Mole suspicions should ever have some! :)

THE WISE ZORA: Thanks for your awesome review! Glad you're enjoying the challenge: makes the frustrations I'm having with its length totally worth it. As always, I greatly appreciate your suspicions list, along with your character insights. Hopefully will be able to bring this lengthy mission to its conclusion soon!

Thanks again for your reviews! I will do my best in these next few days to crank out the remainder of the next chapter so that you readers aren't left hanging (and so this mission can be brought to a rest). Catch you on the flip side!