The story was just finishing as Lugnut, Goggles, Drew, and Flux entered the town outside King Hugh's castle. Flux was surprised that it actually was exciting, as Goggles came of as a snooty fussbudget who probably got excited by tax returns or something.

"So let me get this straight: you're really a Zanydu stagehand?"

"Unfortunately, that's not entirely correct," said Goggles. "While I do feel a primal connection to this fellow and given what we learned with Lugnut I feel confident in saying that it was he who Count Nefarious resurrected into me, the fact is that I have none of his memories nor his experiences. Even if we do have the same personality, the same likes and dislikes and what have you, I am a new being and my own person, and I cannot live my life as this other toon with whom I share nothing save that connection."

"That's... very intense," said Drew. "So what exactly are you going to do now?"

"I don't know," said Goggles. "Aside from being certain I never want to return to the service of Count Nefarious, I know nothing about what I want to do with myself. It's... actually quite disheartening. For the first time in my life- er, my second life- I have nowhere to go. I'm afraid to return to Zanydu. Its lack of a centralized government means I have little recourse if Count Nefarious sends his henchmen after me and the initial line of defense fails."

"I'm a Cutopian," said Lugnut in the most dejected voice imaginable. "I can just stay here. Look. The tavern is still open. Maybe I'll just sit there."

Flux tugged at Drew's sleeve and pulled him aside. "Jeez, look at how depressed that guy is. I'm worried about him."

"Me, too," said Drew. "It feels funny-"

"But not the good kind of funny, right?"

"No. The strange kind. Ever since I first set eyes on him, I never thought I would feel anything remotely decent towards him. But now I just feel bad for him."

"Yeah. Craziness help me, I never thought I would feel bad about one of the Count's henchmen."

"We need to help him."

Flux nodded. "You got that right."

Lugnut opened the door to the tavern and let himself in. Goggles followed behind, muttering to himself, "Strange... the tavern isn't usually open this late on a school night..."

Inside, the four of them were shocked to see only two other toons in the bar: The first one, the less surprising one, was the shamrock barman. He seemed to be tending to the only patron in the establishment: Feedback.

"Holy cow, this is getting weirder!" Flux said in alarm. "What's he doing here?"

Feedback glared at the crowd, and then turned his back on them.

"Och, he came innere in a right state, he did," said the Barman. "Hasn't said a word this whole time, either."

"Where's his prosthetic?" asked Lugnut.

"His what now?"

"His megaphone," Lugnut clarified as he sat down on a stool several seats away from Feedback. "He needs it to talk."

"He didn't have one when he came in here."

"So he really hasn't said anything."

Feedback sneered over his shoulder at Lugnut before turning away again.

"Barman, would you give us a moment?" asked Goggles. "I know it's frightfully rude to ask you to remove yourself in your own establishment, but I would like to be alone with my brothers."

"Of course," said the Barman. "I can do inventory in the back." He gestured to Drew and Flux. "And, eh, you can help me, right?"

"Uh, no, but we'll come with you to give these bozos some privacy," said Flux.

"Flux, be nice," said Drew. "But yes, we're not actually going to do inventory."

When the three of them were alone, Goggles sat down on a stool on Feedback's other side. "Let me guess: you somehow discovered that your life before your death was not exactly as the Count had presented it to you."

Feedback narrowed his eyes, and it was as good as a nod.

"Ah. Were you, then, not originally a Malevolander?"

Feedback's eyes widened, and then he made a face of disgust.

"You were, then."

Feedback nodded vigorously.

"Then what in your life could have turned you against Count Nefarious?" Goggles tapped his chin as he ruminated on that for a few moments. Then, suddenly, his goggles bugged out as he realized: "Tell me that it was not the Count himself who was directly responsible for your death."

Feedback's eyes got a strange, faraway quality before he turned and slumped over the bar, dejected.

"Hm... now, seeing as how I was killed when a light exploded and shredded my face, thus rendering my eyes useless, and Lugnut was killed in a deafening explosion thus rendering him... well, deaf... I assume that your demise had something to do with your mouth... and you were so disgusted by the implications of it all that you smashed your prosthetic. You could not bear to have a gift from the Count to make up for the inadequacy he himself bestowed upon you after everything else he did."

Feedback didn't respond, but that was as good as an affirmative.

Lugnut moved down a few stools until he was next to Feedback. "Yeah. It hurts, buddy."

They sat in silence for a long time. It was a dismal situation, Goggles realized. He was sitting with his two best friends, whom he considered brothers and who had, essentially, lost both the will and any reason to live yet were determined to continue doing so even without. Goggles had the smallest personal stake in this, as he had no attachments to his old life and was never particularly loyal to Count Nefarious in the first place. Still, the betrayal stung and the loss of purpose was dizzying.

"You need a prosthetic," said Goggles. "I know you don't want one from Count Nefarious, but you must be able to speak. There is an inventor here, the one who built the Cutifier. I believe he may be able to help. Will you accept help from a Cutopian?"

Feedback gave Goggles a long, hard stare through cautiously narrowed eyes. Then, ever so slightly, he nodded.

"Marvelous. I will see to it that a meeting is arranged..."