It was the day after Frasier and Lemonhope were taken captive. Lemonhope was currently stood in Gallucci's office being fitted for his 'singing clothes'. He had not gotten a lot of sleep the last night as he was kept up by Gallucci requesting song after song. The last he sung was a lullaby in an effort to get Gallucci to fall asleep. Thankfully, it worked.

It was as the people measuring Lemonhope finished their work and were packing up that Gallucci entered his office. For a moment he thought it was Lemongrab in the room, but Gallucci's strong accent reminded him of where he was. "My singing Lemonboy," said Gallucci. "Your friend is about to join the crew. I thought that it would be best for you to see it with your own eyes. Y'know, in order to set it straight how things go around here."
Lemonhope felt a shot of excitement go through him for a second before he realised what it meant. He was to go see his friend join the ranks of Gallucci's mindless servants.

Before Lemonhope could even consider following Gallucci, he felt a shove from behind. The same person who was measuring him a few seconds before now loomed over him ready to make him do as Gallucci commanded. Lemonhope quickly began following Gallucci through a maze of corridors, each adorned with golden patterns and reminders of the wealth of gambling. Soon the halls became less decorated, and after that became bare, with rotting bricks showing. The bricks gave away to a solid slick stone. There were no more electric lights hanging from the ceiling, but instead there were torches mounted in ancient metal sconces.

From that point onwards Lemonhope could hear the howls of sorrow. Cheaters and assorted damned could be heard wallowing their lost freedom and what were to come for them. Lemonhope could now see the cells and found each to contain the image of truly broken men and women. Their clothes were tattered and their hair untrimmed. He was reminded of the dark days in Lemongrab's dungeon as he passed them. A few looked up with brief expressions of hope on their faces, while others were not stirred. As they went deeper, Lemonhope saw the clothes become worse and the people seemingly rotting away. A few had plates with scraps in them. The plates sat in one corner and the person in the other. Lemonhope entered the area of the prison where it became hard to tell if the people in the cells were dead or alive. He spotted an open cell ahead and two guards standing in front of it.

As he passed it, he noticed a third guard trying to resuscitate a person. At the top of the open gate hung a rope made out of bedsheets with a noose on the end. Lemonhope quickly averted his eyes and felt dark thoughts for Frasier creep in. Those thoughts were struck away when he saw the next few cells. They were packed with exercising equipment and racks of food. In each cell were prisoners in different states of buffness and were being monitored by their own personal guard.

After a short walk past the grunt filled cages the hall opened up to a chamber. In the centre was a throne made out of a smooth and polished stone. It was decorated in circles and angular lines leading into the floor. The lines seemed to spread from the throne across the floor and then came together to climb up a pedestal that stood in front of the throne. On top of the pedestal was the raised outline of a hand, inviting you to place your palm on top.

Frasier stood next to the throne and was held by a guard. He looked worse for wear but seemed to get a small smile when he saw Lemonhope. "We had to move a few prisoners around to put him up next, otherwise we would have waited about a year to put him through," Gallucci said as if he was an old colleague of Lemonhope explaining some mundane activity. "We only do this for special prisoners, and I would say that the two of you are exceptional."
Gallucci gave the guard next to Frasier a nod. The guard immediately picked up Frasier and thrusted him on the throne.

Frasier gave the guard a menacing gaze and looked back towards Lemonhope. "Don't you worry, Lemonhope," said Frasier. "We'll get through this, I'm sure of it."
Frasier's voice was soft and wavering. It seemed like he was reassuring himself more than Lemonhope. Gallucci approached the pedestal and place his hand firmly on the outline. His palm seemed to pour over the print, but his press was registered none the less. A blue light began to shine in the room. The throne seemed to be glowing the same blue hue, however it did not seem to be the source of the light. All Frasier's movement stopped, and he seemed to be frozen. His eyes were locked with Lemonhope's. He seemed to be shaking but only slightly. Frasier was trying to say something, but all that came out were stuttering m's.

Then his shaking subsided. His incomplete words fell silent. His determined expression fell away. He seemed to relax, and a fog rolled over his eyes. The blue light subsided and Gallucci approached Frasier. Gallucci whispered some sacred words to Frasier and the fog lifted from Frasier's eyes. Frasier then stood up and stood in line with the other guard. Frasier was gone, and all that was left was an empty husk which now joined the ranks of Gallucci's guard. "Another joins the family!" exclaimed Gallucci. He raised his arms in triumph and turned to Lemonhope.

"I am certain that he will make an excellent addition to my guard, don't you think?" he questioned the quivering lemon. "I always wanted to have some music to accommodate this occasion, and now we have you. How about you sing us a song?"
But Lemonhope couldn't sing a song. All he could think of doing was to scream. His friend was gone, and his life set before him would end in a forced tune. He stood there in silence, staring at the little green husk. "Well, are you going to play?" asked Gallucci, now annoyed. But Gallucci wasn't met with a sudden change in spirit. Instead, he was met with a faint groan from Lemonhope before Lemonhope collapsed on the floor. "We'll work on it later then," he said.

Sweet little Lemonhope
Stuck in a lemontrope

My sweet little lemonstrife
Will last until the end of my life

Lemonhope sung his sad tune and did a little dance to go with it. The bells of his jester hat chimed to the rhythm of his words and the bells on his pointed shoes provided a monotone beat. Lemonhope struggled to tap his left foot as it was shackled to Gallucci's desk. He also found the whole striped jester outfit to be a bit tacky with its reds and blues. He tried complaining once but was met with an unsympathetic fist and a request to continue playing. His ruff stood slightly askew after that.

The non-stop playing for the last few days was beginning to get to his voice and he could tell that his voice would be gone by the weekend. Not that the weekend would come quickly, however. His time as a jester was painfully slow and punctuated with the reminder of Frasier's lost mind every time he saw his brain-washed friend. He doubted that he would ever forget when he was forced to watch Frasier have his mind erased. But he didn't have much time to think as Gallucci demanded a happier song to be played next. He was currently politely talking to a thief that was caught trying to steal one of the countless neon lights. Lemonhope thought at times that he might have lost his mind as well, but his constant anger that he felt towards Gallucci reminded him otherwise. His pointless existence made him sometimes forget what the time was or how it passed. He only knew that he was there for only a few days as Gallucci was constantly reminding him by telling his guests how long he has had his jester for.

For the first time in what felt an eternity, Gallucci told Lemonhope to stop playing music. "Today is one of the few days which I get a day off," stated Gallucci.
Lemonhope gave a sigh of relief. "That doesn't mean that you get a day off," scolded Gallucci. "We'll be moving to my personal garden for the rest of the day, and I will need some music to make my rest even more soothing. Bring him now."

A guard removed the end of Lemonhope's chain connected to the desk and began dragging him by his foot. Lemonhope almost toppled over, but quickly hopped into an appropriate walking pace. He was led to the back of Gallucci's office next to the large window where Gallucci stood in front of a blank wall. As blank as a wall adorned with gold could get. With a swift movement, which was rare for Gallucci, Gallucci pressed on the wall at a certain spot and it was revealed that it was a hidden door. It soundlessly swung open to reveal an atrium of an enormous magnitude. It was filled to the brim with plants and seemed to stretch off into forever. Once they stepped inside it felt like they were in the depths of a beautiful tropical jungle, with spots of glass visible where the city lay on the other side. A small pathway winded into the depths and disappeared behind a rose bush. Lemonhope was led down the path until they came across a stone bench with intricate patterns carved in it. Lemonhope was shackled to one of the legs and Gallucci plopped down unto the bench.

Lemonhope expected something to break, but the bench stood strong. "Go on," urged Gallucci. "Play something about plants."
Lemonhope began his tune and tried to subtly convey to Gallucci that he was thirsty. When the song was over Gallucci slightly shifted in his seat. "Man, I could go for a stiff drink right now," he said without giving Lemonhope a second glance. He pressed a button that was excellently hidden amongst the patterns of the bench and a faint buzzing could be heard. Lemonhope took a dry gulp of nothing and began with another song. During the third verse came the servant who would serve Gallucci his drink. It was Frasier, and he was carrying a martini in a plate which looked comically large compared to himself.

Frasier walked at a steady upright pace. You would have been able to balance a tower of books on his head with how disciplined his stride was. Lemonhope expected his friend to give a smirk, but Frasier only did as he was told. He stood next to Gallucci and raised the plate for Gallucci to take his drink. Lemonhope's song trailed off as he stared at the vacant shell that he called his friend. Guilt struck him, followed by sorrow. He led them to this wretched place, and he let it all get out of hand as it did. He felt compelled to play a song, even if he knew the one who it was intended for would never hear it.

Near and far
close and wide
where we go
you'll decide
my friend

My dearest friend

A pact of freedom
we made
so together
we stayed
just until the end
oh, the great and endless end

My dearest friend

Somewhere inside
that's where you hide
just break the curse
that will fill a purse
with servitude

Where is your attitude?

Near and far
close and wide
when we used to go
you did decide
my friend

Where are you my friend?

Lemonhope lingered on the last note for a second and stared deep into Frasier's blank eyes. There was no response from him. Lemonhope searched for a sign that his friend was there, but none came. None would ever come, surmised Lemonhope. His friend was gone, he was back to where he began, and has found that a fondness for music is worse than a hatred for it. Lemonhope felt all his strength leave his legs and he fell down. Sour lemon-tears fell down his face as he thought of all he went through to get here. Gallucci was now shouting at Lemonhope and making weak attempts at kicking him with his chubby leg. Lemonhope had lost all hope. He was nothing but a sour lemon with no ambition and no desire to continue.

He then felt something brush his hand. He thought that it was merely a false feeling of hope trying to claw out of him, but when he felt it again, he looked at what it could be. He saw through his eyes a blurry green line run across his hand. When he wiped the tears away, he saw that it was a vine of some sort, crawling up his hand. He looked up toward Frasier. His appearance of his friend was met with a deafening crash as the garden came to life. "W-what in tarnation?" was all Gallucci could stammer before he was lifted by a barrage of snowdrop flowers. The stems of the plants wrapped around Gallucci's limbs and he was held up in a spread-eagle position. Frasier now took off his shades and threw them to the ground.

"You're gonna pay for what you did," snarled Frasier. The plants raised Gallucci higher and the vines became taught. They then pulled even tighter, threatening to pull Gallucci apart. "Guards! Guards! Somebody hel-" shouted Gallucci before a bundle of flowers were shoved into his mouth. Frasier then lifted a barrage of vines with sharp ends. One after another the vines stuck themselves into Gallucci with incredible speed. Each vine penetrating Gallucci caused him to scream out in pain. His muffled screams pierced the air but were not heard outside of the atrium. Gallucci's blood dripped on the stone bench. In seconds, a small pool had formed. Frasier twisted his arms and so did the vines holding Gallucci's limbs. The sound of bones breaking was louder than Gallucci's screams and Lemonhope could no longer bear the torture.

"Stop!" shouted Lemonhope. Frasier stopped for a moment as Gallucci's leg had made a full rotation. His face was warped and reminded Lemonhope of a demon. Frasier slowly turned his head towards Lemonhope and the full horror of what Frasier's rage looked like was visible to Lemonhope. Frasier's head was splitting open, letting the deep orange of the sunset fill his head with evil light. His face conveyed pure malicious intent and was more akin to that of a snarling wolf than a humanoid face. Frasier noticed the fear that he caused his friend and withdrew his demonic appearance.

"Is that really you, Frasier?" asked Lemonhope, now uncertain.
"Of course it is," replied Frasier.
"Would you then really kill someone?"
"Wouldn't you?!" shouted Frasier. "He enslaved us! He made me forget what it felt like to know who I am! He deserves nothing less…"
Frasier looked down for a moment. The plants gave a slight slack but still held Gallucci high. "But killing him would bring us down to be no better than him," said Lemonhope softly.
Frasier had a sharp vine poised to pierce Gallucci's skull, but still didn't lower it. "I don't think I would care if it made me even worse than him," said Frasier. His voice was barely a whisper.

Lemonhope had to think fast. He had to find a reason for Frasier not to kill Gallucci which didn't lie in morals. Then he was struck with a thought. "Even if you did kill him, how will we get out?"
Frasier's mind was still hazy, but he could remember the struggle that they had to find the way out of the city. "Ok," conceded Frasier. "We'll ask him how to get out."
"And how to free the guards from their brainwashed state!" added Lemonhope.
Frasier made the plants take the bundle of flowers out of Gallucci's mouth. He coughed up a wad of blood. "I'll never tell you," he managed to say before his limb was twisted for compliance. "Ok, ok, I'll tell you!" he shouted out before his leg twisted off. "To get out you just need to follow the road paved with triangles."
Frasier and Lemonhope both let out a surprised "Hmf" at the simplicity of how to get out.

"The brainwashed guy's though; I have no idea. I didn't even know that it was possible to bring someone back from it. Can you please let me go?"
Some blood dribbled from Gallucci's mouth as he waited for a reply. Lemonhope knew that this meant Casino City would continue with its exploitation, no matter what they did. Lemonhope noticed that Frasier was getting ready to finish off Gallucci. "Wait," he uttered. "He told us how to get out, and I don't think he'll ever be the same after this. Can we please just leave him?"

Frasier looked towards his friend. "I'll leave him, but only since you asked me," sighed Frasier. He dropped Gallucci and he fell hard on the stone bench. Gallucci squelched with blood as he hit the bench hard. All that could be heard from him was heavy breathing and blood-filled coughs. Frasier and Lemonhope quickly made their way out of Gallucci's office and made their way for the exit. When they left the building, it was as if nothing had happened since they were enslaved. The streets were still bustling with hopeless souls looking for another penny. They followed the special road and soon found the same booth where they gave their money for Gallucci-coins. They didn't even stop when the clerk in the booth asked, "Cashing out?".

When they saw the open fields of the outside world again, they began to feel like themselves again. Lemonhope finally took off the jester hat and Frasier ripped off the tuxedo. "I'm going to need new clothes," uttered Lemonhope.
Frasier looked to the horizon where the Ice Kingdom's snowy peaks stuck out. "I might not know a place where you can get new clothes," said Frasier. "But I do know a place where a jester outfit won't seem too out of place."
"And where might that be?" said Lemonhope, now getting the taste for adventure again.
"It's a club which is said to only show itself to those who truly want to forget their past."
"Sign me up!" exclaimed Lemonhope, eager to forget his horrible life for the past few days and the horror that his friend unleashed.

As they began their trek, Lemonhope thought for a second about the people that he condemned to a fate maybe worse than death. They all would just continue gambling forever, even if they killed Gallucci. Then again, would Gallucci ever learn from his encounter with them or just continue his brainwashing ways? Lemonhope decided that it would be better to put that behind him, even if it pained him to do so. After all, he had a stiff drink waiting for him in the Ice Kingdom.