Down by the beach, Sunscreen Sulley has gotten into an argument with Sandcastle Sandy, for probably the fifteenth time this hour.
"Listen here, twerp! If I wanna sunscreen up your castles, you ain't in any position to say NO! You should be THANKING me! And don't even get me started on that ozone layer nonsense!" Sulley yells, but is cut off when Heart Eater Space Heater jumps down from the sky, crashing nearby, holding up a hand to authoritatively tell Sulley to shut up.
"Ey, I'm TALKIN' here!" Sulley whines, and Dad appears to say his usual thing, before vanishing. Heart Eater Space Heater waggles a finger.
"OK, but consider the following: The ozone layer protects us all from infection by Space AIDS, and you're threatening that. Do you want to get Space AIDS?"
Sandcastle Sandy turns his attention to a handsome plant man named Max Flower, who happens to be watching over this from a nearby tree. He waves at Max, and Max waves back, but doesn't do anything further. Disco John dances by, looking Heart Eater Space Heater up and down.
"Um." Disco John notes, not pausing from his dance routine.
"Didja need something?" Heart Eater Space Eater inquires, suddenly turning to look down at Disco John.
"No...sir." Disco John responds, before dancing away. Sulley attempts to continue applying sunscreen to Sandy's castle, but is tackled to the ground by Heart Eater Space Heater.
"HEY! HANDS OFF OR THE OZONE LAYER GETS IT!" Sulley yells, bringing out O-Zone.
"You can't do that, or else I'll have to use the emergency French bread." Heart Eater Space Heater says calmly, which shuts up Sulley real fast, prompting her to recall O-Zone. With Sulley pacified, Heart Eater Space Heater grabs a chunk of Sandy's castle and retreats into the sea, causing a part of Super Space Heater's system to eject Trinitus's heart due to the detection of hazardous conditions. As Super Space Heater descends into the ocean, the camera pans upwards, revealing an in-construction artificial moon in the sky, being built by the Sea Turtle Oligarchy. While some people, such as escaped convict Alpha Flystander, have been supporting this project, others, especially those within the dinosaur community, who are opposed to the enormous amounts of fossil fuels being consumed during the transportation of resources to and from the moon. In fact, the dinosaurs have grown so tired of these dirty deeds being done dirt cheap by the Oligarchy that they've sent a dinosaurian diplomat on a flight to the moon to try and negotiate with the turtles. Of course, to further the controversy of this mission, the airline in use is the same that notoriously bore a plane that nearly destroyed Minneapolis, and though the airline has denied affiliation with both the terrorists and anti-terrorists present on that flight, their evidence has been weak at best. A self-proclaimed documenter of truth known as Conspiretithesist has used the power of the world wide web to sneak on board this flight, and get a look at what really goes on behind the scenes. He finds a piece of wreckage belonging to the very same infamous plane to Minneapolis, and jots this down in his notes, before retreating to the lavatory to hide as people begin to board the plane. Conspiretithesist saws off his fingertips to make sure he doesn't leave any prints, and begins wiring up all sorts of spying devices, watching through the peephole as the dinosaurian diplomat awkwardly shuffles into the plane with the rest of the passengers, the unmistakable symbol of the dinosaur flag emblazoned on the diplomat's ascot. Conspiretithesist begins listening in as the diplomat stutters to himself, trying to overcome his nervousness and awkward lisp as the plane begins to move. Amused, Conspiretithesist writes this into his notes, finding it funny that the dinosaurs couldn't send anyone more suited for such an important task. Protestor also seems to be aboard this flight, with many a picket sign at the ready in the seat next to him so that he can protest the diplomat's speech, since he, like many others, is greatly opposed to the dinosaur community.
Meanwhile, Max Flower has made his way into the city, and perches in another tree just outside of the World Crime League headquarters, watching through a window as Cybr finishes hooking up Danny Devito's mask to the computer, and begins to type. He initiates a scan of the attached mask, and while he waits for it to complete, walks over to the window and shuts the blinds.
Back on the flight, Conspiretithesist has fallen asleep on the toilet, and a crowd of very rowdy passengers has gathered outside, demanding to be let in. Among these is Protestor, who uses one of his signs to pry the door open, the sound waking up Conspiretithesist just in time for him to jump upwards, using his arms and legs to hold himself flat against the ceiling as the passengers begin to go about their business. Conspiretithesist holds his breath, silently cursing at himself for coming so close to being caught while he watches the final passenger from the line, a nervous-looking man with a pith hat, shades, and suspiciously-heavy-looking backpack with the name 'Archeo' on the tag, finish up washing his hands. He tunes into the cameras he set up, and sees the diplomat being shaken by some turbulence, causing his custom-made dinosaur-sized headphones to fall off, which have his name, "Awaser", engraved on them. More notably, though, the headphones are currently blaring edgy nightcore music, an incredibly humiliating event for Awaser. He frantically puts the headphones back on and turns down the volume, but the damage has already been done, as Conspiretithesist takes special note of this occurrence. Awaser considers ditching the mission altogether, but as the pilot announces that the plane is closing in on its destination, he realizes he has no choice but to go through with the meeting with the Oligarchy. Conspiretithesist snaps one last embarrassing picture of Awaser before sliding into the cargo hold and hiding again. He finds the piece of wreckage from earlier has been replaced with a decoy, with a sticky note stuck to it saying that the wreckage was never there, a crude attempt at concealing the truth. Conspiretithesist takes the decoy as evidence, unintentionally sending out a single alerting the placers of the decoy this action in the process. Awaser decides to ditch the headphones entirely to escape from the memory of the humiliating revelation, so he hides them in the pocket of the seat in front of him, before slinking out of the plane the moment it comes to a stop. In order to get away from the crowd as fast as possible, Awaser heads the opposite direction of the airport's main building, dashing across the runway towards the gate leading deeper into the artificial moon. However, he's noticed by the sole airport staff employed at this location, who seems to be disguised as a sea turtle while not actually being one. Terrtle raises his hand to indicate for Awaser to stop, and Awaser reluctantly slows down.
"You g-gotta let me go, man. I have an important meeting w-w-with the Oligarchy, but I can't be theen by the people who w-were on that flight." Awaser stammers, out of breath from his frantic sprint. Terrtle shakes his masked head solemnly.
"You're too late for that, man. The moment the plane landed, some blogger released a bunch of embarrassing photos and videos to the internet. It's all over the place right now. People think you might not even be a real diplomat due to your apparent incompetence. Good luck with the Oligarchy, I guess." Terrtle shrugs, resuming his work of unloading baggage as Awaser runs through the fence, stopping to check what all the hubbub online is about. The news pages are rolling in by the minute, with all sorts of theories connecting Awaser to the Minneapolis flight, suggesting that he may have been a violent terrorist based on the edgy music he was listening to. With his reputation so badly tarnished, Awaser realizes that he can't confront the Oligarchy now, and has to return to his dinosaurian homeland while the dinothorities search for the perpetrator of this slanderous hate crime. He scours the web for some sort of private transportation service that could get him where he needs to go, but the only one he can find is some sketchy service labeled as "Goo'br". With no other options, Awaser locates the nearest pay phone and dials up the number, and after a few seconds someone picks up, speaking in a voice eerily similar to Awaser's own, but much more confident and with no lisp or stutters.
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Have some cash ready." The person on the other end says, not even waiting for Awaser to say anything. They hang up before Awaser can respond, and Awaser checks his wallet, finding a single very crisp dollar, ten dollars in change, and two rumpled twenties. As he nervously awaits the arrival of the Goo'br driver, he brings out what resembles a large toy soldier, kissing it for good luck.
Exactly fifteen minutes after the call, a modified Ford Model T with tinted windows pulls up at Awaser's location. The passenger side window rolls down, and the driver seems to strongly resemble Awaser, but with a cool pair of shades. He even has a toy soldier just like Awaser's, which also has shades. This surprises Awaser, since his Symphony Soldier is one of a kind, and is also his Stand. Before Awaser can ask any questions, the driver speaks up.
"You got cash, big guy?" the driver asks. Awaser shows the contents of the wallet, hoping it's enough, and the driver reaches in, taking the single dollar bill and nothing else, before opening the door for Awaser. Awaser awkwardly situates himself in the seat, and the door closes, but the driver doesn't start the car right away.
"Cool figure you got there." The driver says, nodding at Symphony Soldier. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"U-uh...the Goo'br guy?" Awaser stammers, taking deep breaths to ease his nerves.
"Yeah, that's true, but I'm also a representation of the best version of yourself. That's who I am."
"Hi also a representation of the best version of yourself, I'm Dad!" says Dad, appearing in the back seat just long enough for the driver to fist bump him.
"Dad gets it."
"W-well, if you really are the bestht version of me, then do you know h-how I can get out of this mesth?" Awaser says, focusing a bit on stabilizing his lisp.
"Listen, the only reason I became so cool is because I embraced my passions instead of hidin' them from the people around me."
"But them seeing my patthons is what ruined everything!"
"That's because you let them get to you, dude. Just keep your cool and don't let anyone judge you for what you like. You're actually in a pretty good spot right here. The Oligarchy's got rock bottom expectations of you. It'll make it that much easier to blow them away. Plus, now that the meeting's delayed, you've got plenty of time to work on bettering yourself. Get rid of that silly lisp, be more confident with your words, and embrace who you really are."
"I guess…"
"Sounds like a plan. Now, let's get you home." The driver starts up the car, and drives to Awaser's home, despite never being told where it is. Awaser chooses to ignore the implications of this, and gets out of the car, as the driver speeds off to probably be seen again. Protestor seems to have also located Awaser's house, and is protesting outside of it. Awaser glances at his phone, and sees that the dinothorities have been hard at work taking down the slander. He then takes a deep breath, and holds Symphony Soldier up against Protestor's head, pressing the barrel of the gun up against him.
"Off my property. Now." Awaser demands, but Protestor just laughs, pulling out his own Stand, Fake News, which is barely distinguishable from Protestor's picket signs.
"You can't shoot me! Bullets aren't real, says so right here!" Protestor points at the sign, which is now displaying an image of a bullet with a big red X over it, and the text "FAKE NEWS" underneath. Awaser pulls the trigger of Symphony Soldier five times, but to his surprise, the bullets that come out immediately disappear. This is surprising not because of the bullets disappearing, but because of the fact that Awaser has never seen the shotgun fire bullets before. After a few seconds, though, a large conch shell files out, knocking Protestor away and sending him flying. Awaser breathes a sigh of relief, and retreats into his humble abode.