Chapter 1

Flipping Out

On a cold late-night in Royal Woods, something was clearly amidst. One couldn't tell that, of course, just by looking at the slumbering town. Buildings rested quieted against a calming gale, with only the wildlife in the park giving any sort of sound to a beautiful peace. The roads lay barren underneath the stars, joined by the streetlamps flickering away while the populace awaited the next day.

Everything was normal. Perhaps too normal, for everyone had become accustomed at this point to listening to the wondrous sounds of a certain Gas Station exploding like celebratory fireworks. While Royal Woods slept a peaceful dream, Flip's Food & Fuel was as busy as ever, even as it held no customers past midnight. Some onlookers looked cautiously at the convenience store, always fearing why those lights were so bright underneath the full moon; sure, it was open at all times, but knowing its eccentric owner, one must wonder what his goal was keeping the place moving when nobody was around for miles.

To Phillip Phillipini (though please, just call him Flip), the late-night hours were his time, and his time only. If it wasn't spent going through endless inventory or dealing with a spill that refuses to go away, he was busy illegally streaming a show underneath his front counter. He had no reason for doing this, as he clearly could afford the actual broadcast, but that was the type of guy he was: skirt the law as much as possible, just to see how far he could actually push it.

But tonight rang a different reason why he stayed up for so long. The previous evening brought a rather strange predicament for the old man. While doing what he did best (giving the best service to everybody, even if that meant cursing their existence) he noticed the frozen cabinets in the back looking rather... off. Everything from ice-cream to those really cheap panini's the world seems to love rested within, and he knew each and every one like the back of his moustache. In other words, he could tell when something was bought or missing, and the latter was sadly proving true.

Every minute, he gazed up, and saw yet another product vanish underneath the dim lighting. He blinked, an ice-cream bar was gone, and a sneeze got rid of some yogurt. By the time the thirtieth thing vanished, he finally snapped, scaring the poor family just trying to redeem their gas. Crushing a Flippee in his hands, he locked the cash register behind him and began investigating his cameras.

At first, he just saw the usual customers shopping. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then a few awkward teens trying to find love (how he envied them), followed by hundreds of children questioning the cracks on the ceiling. Even as items vanished, nothing revealed itself. Was it a ghost? Flip did not need that in his life! Then again, what other answer could he have? Spitting out a loagie the size of Denver, he retreated back to his cash register, shaking for dear life.

Perhaps that was the best action he had ever committed, for as soon as he slumped down right as the crowds dissipated, he noticed the strange activity that alleviated his fears. In the store, he had nothing to go on. Within the backrooms that connected to those freezer units, there was just enough room for somebody to hide within, taking everything they could ever want, free of security. Major regret never bothering to install the cameras back there. When he saw those grubby little hands grab some milk, he never felt a worse rage in his life.

"Ah, trying to flip Ol' Flip off, eh? Well, Backroom kid, time to show ya the boot!"

His portly frame marched straight to the door, but found nothing. Apparently the thief was more crafty than he thought. Yet, perhaps not perfect at his job, for he kept stealing even as the night progressed, meaning they were sticking around. Flip wasn't a fan of having to take care of everything so late into the night, but he was not one to accept losing profits. With a devilish grin, he decided to hatch a plan, and bring this person to either justice, or a swift cap in their rump.

Past midnight, he was drooling in his struggles to stay awake, but perhaps that hilarious imagery was enough to throw off his thief. His strange mound of clothes that acted as him by the register was a little too unconvincing, but the actual owner looking out of it? How could the criminal resist? Well, sadly for them, they didn't know jack about Flip. The old man may not be the smartest guy around, but when it came to getting his way, rarely did he fail. His eyes shot open as his uninvited guest was caught laughing.

"Ah, you're the little punk, eh?"

His grouchy eyes caught wind of the young boy that caused it all. He barely knew him, or at least he didn't know him too well compared to other punks in Royal Woods, but the sight of his annoying grin was enough to identify his existence. Chandler, was it? Kind of a local bully of sorts, and one that showed little respect for authority. As of right now, Flip was the authority, and he did not take that fact well. He sat up, letting the steam out of his ears.

Chandler, caught in the act while holding a bag of ice, laughed sheepishly before regaining his cool. "Oh, so you caught me! What then, old man? You think you can outrun me? Huh? You can barely sit right?"

"Hey, it ain't my fault I got two butts to consider!"

Chandler's head was filled with an image he wished would just go away. Damn it all. "T-Two? The heck does that-?"

Perfect. Flip always got the criminals thanks to his bizarre anatomy stories! He grabbed Chandler by the shoulders, throwing him right onto his sagging chair. The boy was too caught off guard by everything to stop this, and the next thing he knew, a bunch of ropes were tied around his frame. No matter how much he struggled, there was no escaping the power of funny rope, a perfect made-up brand by the store owner himself!

Flip grumbled as he stroke his moustache. He looked at the frozen units, before shaking his head. "So yer the dumb kid robbing me, eh? Why can't it ever be cat burglar? Either they're the cute ones, or the really cute ones, you know what I'm saying?" He bizarrely rose his eyebrows towards Chandler, who looked ready to throw up. The old man threw his hand at him. "But no, it gotta be a punk! Always a punk! Flip will never win, will he?" Those eyes were burning with a disgusting amount of rage. "So now I gotta figure what to do witcha! Ya got anything to say, ya brat?"

Even caught in the ropes, Chandler still played himself off as cool. "Ha, what? You think I'm talking to a creep like you? What kind of old man ties up a kid, anyways?"

"The same old man who lost a fortune thanks to ya! Those frozen things don't pay for themselves, ya hear? I hate punks, but I really hate the ones who steal right from under my nose! You got a lot of nerve to attack a small business, bub!"

Chandler spat on the ground. "Hey, you don't know nothing! What if I need that to feed my hungry, starving family? What, you can't show support for the poor?"

Flip laughed his giant head off. "Oh, throwing the ol' poor family gimmick, eh? Yeah, I heard them all, kid! I'm old, right? You give me a story, and I can tell you all the times I've heard it!" He folded his arms, leaning close to Chandler's face. The boy gagged against his breath. "Besides, what good are you doing stealing frozen stuff? Can't bother with Flip's trademark cereals, huh?"

Chandler tried his best to look tough, but as soon as he was ready to give the old man a good ol' tongue lashing, he felt it again. Flip bounced back as he saw the young man shake within the ropes, feeling his throat grow hoarse and pained. His eyes turned bloodshot briefly, before he took a deep breath, returning to normal, though showing plenty of sweat against his brow. A... rather awkward show to witness, the owner had to admit.

"Oookay... mind telling me why ya spazzing on me? Oh, let me guess: ropes too tight, and ya need them loose? Yeah, I'm doing that, bub!"

Chandler kept taking breaths, looking as if he left the oven in the back. He looked at Flip, trying desperately to look like the bully he made himself out as. It wasn't working. "Dude, just... let me go, okay? I really need that stuff?"

"And what for? Just tell me you're hosting a heck of a party, and I'll let you go, granted you let me be the star of it all!"

Dear God, what was more frightening: that thought, or the truth? Chandler couldn't stop hyperventilating. "No, man! I need that stuff to cool down! Like, really bad, ya hear?"

Flip couldn't help but raise an accusatory eyebrow at the young buck. Cool down? By stealing his products? Where the heck did the sense begin there? "What? Get some air conditioning then! Why you need to steal from me?"

Chandler's breaths became erratic, and his skin turned clammy. "Oh man... it hurts...!" He complained, finally trying to break free from his bondage. He grit his teeth as his legs kicked and kicked, forcing the old man to step in and hold him down. This obviously did nothing to cure the boy's fears. "I can't... it's burning! I'm burning up! Crap!"

"What? You got the flu or something? Oh, you better not give it to me!"

As he held the young thief, Flip caught sight of something strange lurking underneath the boy's sweat-stained shirt. A purple glow, looking like the cracks on his ceiling, coursed their way against his flesh. What the heck could it have been? A new-age tattoo? In fact, the old man noticed quite a number of people had it. Adults, kids, even some infants. What, a cult rolled through the town and he wasn't aware? Either way, the boy wasn't doing so hot (no pun intended), and he'd be held responsible for anything bad happening.

"All right, all right, hold still! I'll untie you, but you better not run off!"

Flip ripped the ropes away, preparing for Chandler's eventual flight. Maybe this was all an act. Well, if it was, then the kid was doing a hell of a job staying in character. Once he was freed, he sat there all alone and quiet, looking up to the lights above. His sufferrng seemed to have ended rather abruptly, and yet he still looked rather... off. Even the old man had no idea what to say. He stood there, unsure of really what to do next?

"Uh, kid? You need a medkit or sometin', because Flip got no experience with medical stuff."

Chandler's face produced a smile. "Wow... it's beautiful... it really is."

Flip never received praise for his ceiling, so what gives? "Hey, what're you on about?"

"I see them. My... my grandparents! They... I'm so happy!"

"W-What?"

The room fizzled out, before awakening to something far more beautiful. Chandler looked like he was at peace, before closing his eyes. "So beautiful... I'm... I'm so happy right now..."

The electronics in the room made a disturbing hum. Flip covered his ears, but his eyes caught everything. He witnessed as Chandler's body began to disappear. In its place, lights among lights shined brightly in the seat, before they disappeared up towards the sky above. Sparks went through the man's moustache, but he felt nothing as he witnessed the bizarre scene unfold. In a matter of seconds, the kid was gone, like he never existed.

And for the old owner of the convenience store? He passed out on the floor, unsure of what to make of it all.