John pulled his dresser into the middle of the room, placed cruxite dowels on and around it, and made a tent with his bed sheet. This was so much fun. A huge waste of time, yes, but SO MUCH FUN!
Disgusted, Rose tossed the dresser and bed sheet into the bottomless pit. Sad, John rounded up the dowels again and carved the totems with the cards. The captchalogued captchalogue card's totem looked pretty bare bones to John. Rose grabbed the totems and stored them in the Atheneum. She took the totem for the captchalogue card and brought it to the Alchemiter.
The Alchemiter apparently required one unit of any type of grist to produce a card. Rose decided to use shale, as it seemed less generally useful than the build grist as of now. She made ten empty captchalogue cards. She put them at John's feet.
EB: whoa, did you just make all these?
TT: Yes.
EB: sweet, thanks!
EB: what did you do with all the blue wobbly vase-looking things?
TT: I brought the totems out to the alchemiter to test them.
TT: I'm taking some things into my own hands to save some time.
EB: ok.
Rose created a hammer at the expense of 2 units of build grist. She made a pogo ride too, which cost five build grist and one shale. She then used the totem with the random code to create a… rocket pack? It had some random crap stuck inside it. There was a cinderblock, a violin, and a flowerpot, rendering it completely inoperable. She dropped it on an imp that had been holding the hammer, figuring she might as well put the piece of junk to use.
In the meantime, John was using a bit of strategy. He grabbed Harry Anderson's "Wise Guy," by Mike Caveney, then the cards, catching the PDA and putting it back into his sylladex. The book fell out and John re-captchalogued it, flushing the cards out into the deck. Nice going!
John flipped over his fetch modi to see if he could find any "detect collision" settings or anything. No, nothing but the ability to switch back and forth between FILO and FIFO. This was idiotic.
John opened the Wise Guy book to the Introduction and began to read.
An Introduction: Who's This Wise Guy?
"Blood Loss in the Big Easy"
New Orleans, 1977. The close-up room at the Magic Castle was this mean little box that tended to fill up with so much smoke you'd swear someone was cremating a wet dog in there.
In walks Anderson. There isn't much that gets liquor to pause its journey from the table to my lips but I'll be the bastard lovechild of a listless octoroon if that kid wasn't the cat that swallowed the canary in a dapper little hat. It looked like he was testing the tensile strength of his suspenders to the damn near limit with a pair of cocky thumbs. I wasn't impressed.
But I was a fool.
Somehow in my motion for another beverage he'd already slipped into polite conversation at a table held down by some notoriously brusque regulars. He had them in no time flat. They were melting butter in his glass ramekins. Whatever tidy yarn he'd spun to win them over, I didn't catch a word of it. One of them laughed. I was angry. Envious? Maybe a little. Yeah, you bet I was.
Anderson had one of those little wooden finger choppers that Micky Hades used to sell. The kind where the blade could be removed and clearly shown. It was a very convincing little guillotine that did not look like a novelty store toy. Harry would get a guy to examine the chopper and then cut a cigarette in half. Then he held the guy's hand up and told this silly story. The story of course was artifice, a distraction for the guy and the audience while he worked his stuff with the chopper.
Or it would become that, once his famous chopper trick was perfected, vaulting him to fame, fortune, and the crowning position in the television judiciary.
With what became his signature aplomb, Anderson was in moments a font of breast-pocket gauze, profuse apology, and redoubling determination. It's really amazing how hard it is to find a bloody sausage-sized piece of a guy on the floor of a room that dark and smoky. Impossible, I think we all proved. Just as impossible as Blind Willie Buttermilk Stubbs was going to find it to work his trumpet tomorrow night without his "twiddlin' fingers", a…
John had never understood what Caveney's relationship with Harry Anderson was, or why he'd written this book about the fellow. His ambivalent attitude toward John's favorite magician in these anecdotes had always struck him as weird, and to be honest, John tended not read much of the text in the book. He mostly looked at the diagrams for the cool tricks. He skipped ahead to the first actual trick.
"A Hole in the Ace"
(a.k.a. The A-Hole Trick)
Here is a perfect example of how Harry could ruin several decks of cards, waste everyone's valuable time, and have you love him for it. He was good at that.
One day he noisily emptied his suit jacket pocket onto the hood of his car in search of change for the meter. A clunky metal thing slid from the pile and bounced on the sidewalk. As I retrieved it for him I asked what he was doing with a hole puncher in his pocket.
His face lit up at the question like he was an elf and I asked him how he felt about climbing into the hollow of a big tree to back some cookies or something. (The two foot, six inch height differential between us causes these comparisons to enter my mind.)
A small crowd had already gathered around even before he produced the first pack of unmolested cards. How people seem to gather, and how they even know a street performance is about to take place, I'll never know. It's perhaps Anderson's greatest trick. Luring the marks like that.
I wanted to ask if he was sure about this, performing in broad daylight. He was used to working in dark rooms. It was usually the first thing out of his mouth when he would queer a trick. "I'm really more accustomed to working in a darker room than this." But Harry was excited, and had already butchered the first deck of cards with the hole puncher, and issued the first round of apologies to the crowd. These were the primer apologies, the sort that got the folks loosened up a bit before the seven course meal of ingratiation that would inevitably follow.
He asked me for a fresh deck of cards and I gave him one.
The principle behind the trick in theory, as he explained to me later, was to punch holes in what appeared to be one card, but was in fact two or more together (hence the difficulty he often had in squeezing the puncher with his little elfish hands). Then using some coy maneuvers with his thumb, temporarily concealing the hole while he slid the card beneath it with his palm, the hole would seem to disappear, or move to another part of the card.
Oh yeah, that's right. The old hole in the ace trick, interestingly enough, pertaining to punching holes in cards and making them "disappear" and stuff. John's hands had never really been strong enough to make this one work all that well either. But actually, this gave him an idea.
He overlapped the punched pogo ride card and the punched hammer card, causing them to mask each others' hole patterns. He popped the cards together into the Lathe and created a new, combined totem.
He then went outside to the alchemiter and placed it on the totem… oh man, it looked like Rose had made like a million hammers for some reason. He cleared the shit out of the way, about to make something totally sweet!
John made the pogo hammer for 10 build and 16 shale! He jumped back and forth on the alchemiter, bouncing it to and fro.
TT: What did you do?
EB: i combined the cards in the lathe thingy and made this!
EB: it is so sweet, man look at me go.
TT: I see.
TT: That was a really good idea, John. Nice work.
EB: thanks!
EB: i got the idea from harry anderson.
TT: Who?
EB: uh, you know the show night court?
TT: No.
EB: oh.
EB: well bottom line is...
EB: he's awesome
EB: that's really all there is to say on the matter!
He got a vicious rhythmic bouncing combo going and easily slayed the imp on the pogo ride in one blow. But in the process, he and the pogo ride were catapulted sky-high.
The pogo ride flew above the roof, flying by an arm coming out of a blue portal in the sky, and then landed in a tree. He was about to fall into the hole in his roof when Rose caught him by placing his bed over the hole.
Through the hole in the study wall, a large green shoe could be seen. It was covering a dark, shadowy foot. A large, dark, shadowy foot.
Below the tree in which the pogo ride and the tire swing resided, another large creature began to climb. Something was terribly wrong.
EB: hey, that was a pretty, uh...
EB: nice...
EB: uh...
TT: Sweet catch?
EB: ... save.
EB: oh, yeah.
EB: that.
EB: this is pretty comfy.
EB: why don't you just like,
EB: carry the bed around with me on it?
EB: up to the gate up there!
TT: I can't interact with you directly, or anything that you are touching, if it will result in moving you.
She attempted to select the bed, but the outline became red and it didn't allow her to move it.
TT: See?
EB: oh.
EB: lame!
TT: The game probably regards that as a kind of cheating.
TT: In a way, thieving you of your free will as an adventurer, and the need to advance by your own skill and ingenuity.
TT: The server player is just a facilitator.
EB: well, ok.
EB: all that scurrying around kind of wore me out, i think i'm going to rest here for a bit.
EB: rose, can you keep the imps at bay? like, drop some stuff on them if they sneak too close.
TT: No, you should pick up your hammer and defend yourself.
EB: what, come on!
TT: I have no idea what the hell Dave is up to, or if he's any closer to recovering the game.
TT: There's some stuff I'd like to try, in case he doesn't come through.
EB: oh alright.
EB: i'm just gonna rest my eyes here a second though.
John closed his eyes slowly, staring up at the gate. He wasn't going to sleep. Just rest his eyes. He wasn't going to… going to… sleep. He was… just going to… zzzzzzzzzz.
Rose checked the Alchemy Excursus. It appeared to be a sort of index documenting all known results for punch card alchemy combinations. This could be a convenient resource as they started to stumble upon more useful combinations. But ever since John had begun alchemizing stuff, she'd been contemplating other ways that the system could be put to use. In particular, if she was able to obtain the code for any item at her disposal, she thought she could theoretically send it to John and he could make it himself. That was, if she could think of anything worth sending to him.
Speaking of which, the SBURB server disk! She'd completely forgotten about it! She ejected the disk, captchalogued it, and flipped it over. Oh god damn it. It was empty. Facepalm.
Outside of the mausoleum, the generator shook quickly and repeatedly. The fire blazed on and meteors and rain continued to fall ceaselessly. And then the generator completely stopped working. The computer shut off. Facepalm x2 Combo.
John lay there on the bed, facing up towards the gate. Clouds flew past him. There was his Dad, the ghost slime on his shirt, Harry Anderson, a… what was that? It appeared to be an outline of a girl. But it wasn't Rose. Who was…
Suddenly, flashes of colorful light burst through his consciousness and he sat up. Someone had been pestering him. He stood quickly, getting off of the bed. An imp behind him began to chew on the mattress, but John didn't notice.
GG: hey!
EB: whoa, there you are!
GG: how is your adventure going john?
EB: it's ok, i am making some progress, and rose finally connected again so she is helping me now.
GG: thats good!
EB: oh but, like...
EB: i don't think i am actually saving the world here. :(
EB: i dunno what i'm really accomplishing but i guess it's not that.
GG: hmm well i think whatever it is it must be pretty important!
GG: dont lose hope john i think it will all turn out for the best if you stay positive...
GG: just keep listening to your grandmothers advice!
EB: yeah, you're probably right.
EB: but, um...
EB: i don't think i mentioned nanna to you, did i?
GG: oh uhhh...
GG: i dont know didnt you?
EB: hmm, i dunno, maybe you talked to rose or dave about it or something.
GG: yeah maybe that was it!
EB: they're really weird when they talk to me about you, like they're always trying convince me you have some spooky powers, but i'm always like no she seems like a pretty regular girl to me!
GG: heheheh :D
EB: but then when i think back maybe there are times when it seems like you know some things?
EB: like maybe you know more about a thing than you are telling me? i dunno.
GG: oh well john
GG: i want to explain lots of things to you...
GG: some things that i know
GG: im just...
GG: waiting!
EB: waiting for what!
GG: oh! john!
GG: i forgot i was messaging you about that meteor that fell near my house!
EB: oh yeah.
EB: what ever happened with that?
GG: oh boy... well...
GG: it turns out i was confused about it...
GG: really confused! o_o;
GG: see i guess i fell asleep for a while and...
GG: lost track of time
GG: that happens!
EB: yeah i know, tell me about it!
EB: maybe you should like, wear an alarm clock or something.
EB: so what was the deal with the meteor?
GG: well...
GG: its hard to explain!
GG: but...
GG: i know what it is now!
GG: and now i know everythings going to be ok!
EB: so what is it?
EB: or is this just another thing you're "waiting" to tell me?
GG: oh gosh john i really want to tell you all this stuff!
GG: but i cant yet
GG: i really think you need to wake up first!
EB: huh?
GG: well ok not literally
GG: well ok maybe KINDA literally!
EB: AUGH!
EB: stop being so confusing!
GG: lol :)
GG: anyway time for you to go john
GG: i think you have some company!
GG: 3
- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at ?:? -
Man she could be confusing sometimes. John re-captchalogued his PDA and picked up his pogo hammer again, sticking it in his strife deck. He got ready to kill some more of those pesky… huh? What was that?
The tip of a yellow hat appeared by the roof. Something was climbing up from the balcony. Green shoes smashed into the wall of the hallway and cracked it all along its exterior. A black hand reached out and placed the old Sassacre text on the roof where John had been.
John hid behind the bed along with the pesky shale imp that had been chewing on the mattress not too long before. They both shook with acute fear.
- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at ?:? -
EB: rose, why aren't you dropping something on that thing?
EB: oh no
EB: D:
The imp grabbed an umbrella and quickly absconded the fuck out of there! This was what weaker adversaries did whenever things got too hot in battle, which was frequently.
John ran over to his magic chest that he suddenly remembered had been on the roof all along. There were things in there that would be good to stock up on for a major battle. But it looked like someone had plundered the chest! This was so outrageous.
The house was utter mayhem. An imp looked up at a broken branch stupidly. Windows shattered as the large creature climbed to the roof. Another shale imp at the top of the tree next to the pogo ride hung on for dear life.
A black hand smashed into the area of the roof where John stood. He was being ambushed! The hand cracked the surface as it fell upon the hard surface with a loud thud. There wasn't much room to maneuver on the sloped surface. He had to consider making his way to higher ground.
John ascended to the highest point of the house, which was the platform that Rose had built. He smashed his pogo hammer into an imp next to him, clearing the area. He peeked over the edge of the roof, but there was nothing there.
It already seemed like a long way down to his yard. Not even to speak of whatever lay below. Hey, hadn't his trick handcuffs been dangling from the tree in the front? Dammit, why had the imps needed to be making off with all of his sweet gear.
Where was the creature he'd seen before? It wasn't anywhere to be… seen? A drop of drool landed on the back of his neck. Slowly, he turned around. Before him stood two crude ogres, one with his tire swing and the other with the Sassacre text. This was it. He had no choice but to wage a fierce rooftop battle. This was totally going to happen now, and could in no way conceivably be interrupted by a sudden change in our attention. It was go time. It was time to do this thing.
where doing it man.
where MAKING THIS HAPEN
Dave stood, looking at the note from his Bro. On the floor sat the weird puppets he'd defaced a few seconds before.
He grabbed his katana and Lil' Cal, who had been on top of the fridge, eyes gleaming in anticipation. He smashed through the door to the staircase and ascended to the roof. He burst through the door to the rooftop just as quickly and set Lil' Cal down. Around him, meteors fell from the sky, setting fire to the entirety of the urban landscape.
A black silhouette of a man with a hat appeared and disappeared just as quickly. Lil' Cal went with it. Dave looked around in shock. Where had the little guy gone? He jumped into the center of the roof and looked around once more. There was no one there. What… PSYCHE!
A young girl stood in her mini garden. On her shirt was an image of a blue pumpkin. She wore glasses and next to her sat a pumpkin with the image of a dog of some sort carved into it.
The girl stood and awaited her name… OH WAIT! x2 DOUBLE PSYCHEOUT COMBO!
A young… rather, an old… rather, a… what was he anyway? Whatever. WV stood in the capsule in the middle of the desert.