Down With the Pun-ishment
I have to start writing for this series more. Anyway, here we have a little series of One-Shots for Don't Starve! We're starting things off with a writing suggestion made by PrometheusLaughs on AO3. Thank you for the wonderful idea that kickstarted this short series.
Unrelated to this, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! That short Klei released today was perfect!
Don't Starve is owned by Klei Entertainment.
It was a peaceful and enjoyable morning in The Constant.
"A Tent-atively good day to you, Maxwell."
Correction, it would have been a peaceful and enjoyable morning in the Constant if Wilson hadn't up and ruined it with his obsessive use of wordplay.
The Puppetmaster groaned loudly, almost out of pain. And he had only just stuck his head out his tent. "Wilson, if I knew I would have to spend every morning having to listen to your terrible excuse of wordplay, I would have begged you to leave me on the throne to die."
Wilson took it all in stride, letting a smug smile grow on his face as he walked towards the cooking area. "And yet here we are, Maxwell. We can debt-ate this as often as we want, that won't stop me from continuing to do it."
The gentleman scientist walked away, leaving behind Maxwell with a very clear twitch in his eye.
After that routine event, Wilson continued on with the rest of his morning, making his way to making his favorite meal of Bacon and Eggs. He stood at the end of the line that had formed behind their ice box, all politely waiting for whoever was in front to finish finding ingredients to make their food, and chatting amongst each other to pass the time.
The person in front of Wilson, Willow, took note of his smug smile, and the fact that Maxwell had not left his tent yet. It was not difficult to put together what was going on.
"Were you annoying Maxwell without me again?"
"How can you tell?" Wilson said not so innocently.
"You have that stupid smug smile on your face. You always get like this whenever something happens to the old fart."
"Ah, you've caught me. Yes, we had a little interaction earlier. It was quite tents, I must say."
The camp went quite. Each and every person standing in line slowly turned around and gave Wilson a variety of looks, a large majority which was composed of annoyed glares. Even Willow was giving him one, which was especially piercing thanks to how close she was. Wilson swallowed the lump in his throat that had coincidentally popped up. "Umm, what?"
"Mr. Wilson, while I sometimes do find your tendency for clever wordplay to be quite humorous, you have quite frankly been incessantly annoying this entire camp with your obsession with it for the past few months now." Wickerbottom stepped out of the line, chiding the gentleman scientist and giving him her trademark "Angered Eyes of Displeasure."
Wilson looked at her with a confused expression.
"She means your puns are stupid and we hate them." Willow helpfully cleared up for Wickerbottom.
The other survivors piped up with their own complaints of Wilson's incessant punning habits. The issue ran deep amongst them all, it turns out.
"Everytime you make joke, it stays stuck in Wolfgang's brain for weeks. I can't forget Un-bear-able joke you did with Bearger monster since last month. It will. Not. Leave."
"EACH AND EVERY WORD OUT OF YOUR SOUND PRODUCER IS AN INSULT TO MY KNOWLEDGE OF YOUR STUPID LANGUAGE."
"Your puns are fun, that much I'll say. But even I find they must go away."
Wilson took in all the complaints, and slowly started to look offended. "I wasn't aware you people had so little appreciation for some good wordplay. There's nothing wrong with my puns!"
"The puns aren't the problem, pal." Maxwell came up behind the scientist, startling him a bit. "The problem is that you've been doing this several times a day, every day since we've all joined forces. They've lost their novelty."
"Well, I, guh." Wilson stammered out of anger. "Well I know at least some of you still have some appreciation for the art of wordplay. Raise your hand if you do. Prove these people wrong." He asked the crowd.
Predictably, everyone remained silent, simply glaring at the scientist…
Until two small hands shot up in the air, barely visible through the crowd.
"Webber! Wendy! I knew I could trust in your appreciation of the fine arts."
Webber gave him a big smile as he started to speak. "Yeah, we love your puns, Mr. Wilson. They're always so silky smooth."
That elicited groans from everyone who's names didn't start with W… who weren't named Wilson and Wendy.
Everyone's attention turned to the other, more somber child. Someone like Wendy cracking jokes? That seemed prepostrous.
"I enjoy their jokes." She said with a shrug.
"But we've never heard you crack a pun." Walter pointed out.
"Of course. It's not part of my mourning routine."
Everyone remained silent as Wendy let a little smile grow on her face. Until Maxwell turned and grabbed Wilson by the collar of his dress shirt.
"What in the devil's name have you done to my niece!" He screamed into the scientist's face.
"Thought her the wonders of puns, is what I did! And she knows how to appreciate them, unlike some people around here."
"Okay, okay, everybody stop." Willow, of all of the people in the Constant, separated Wilson and Maxwell before they devolved one of their slap fights. "Wilson, you're my friend. But you're also stupid, and if you don't stop I'm gonna take all your science stuff and burn it in a bonfire."
"You wouldn't dare." Wilson hissed out. "Ms. Wickerbottom, are you really going to allow this kind of behaviour?"
He was surprised when Wickerbottom simply continued giving him a stern look. "At this point I'm willing to take whatever chance I get if it means giving us a moment's peace, Wilson. Give in to Willow's demands." She ordered.
The gentleman scientist looked gobsmacked. So this really was how things were, huh. He had never realized just how little the others appreciated his puns. It honestly disgusted him a little. But, the others were set in their ways, looks like.
He took a deep breath, let it out through his nose, and said. "Fine. I can see when my humor is not wanted. I will stop."
The other survivors broke into loud cheering, jumping up and down in delight. They were free!
"But!" Wilson interrupted their celebration. "I will make sure that you all will one day learn to appreciate puns. Even if it ends with my death." He turned around and walked back to his tent to stew in anger, leaving behind the others to feel satisfied in their victory.
Willow's big smile slowly turned into a frown as she realized what it is that they had done. Broken a scientist's spirit. "Miss Wickerbottom, I think we may have gone a mite bit too far with this."
"Oh don't worry yourself, dear. Wilson is a kind man at heart. He just needs time to calm himself down and learn to dial back on his jokes." The librarian adjusted her glasses with a smile on her face. "Now let us all just enjoy our newfound peace without pun-ishment"
Slowly, everyone turned to deliver glares at Wickerbottom, who stood frozen in place as she processed exactly what she said. Her smile turned from jolly to awkward, laughing nervously at the looks everyone gave her.
They chose to reduce Wilson's sentence to just a month after that. Turns out none of them were truly immune to the wonders of puns.
Next time:
Webber on the Growth Formula Starter: "Wendy dared us to drink it..."
