It had been a few days since Lemonhope and Frasier escaped Casino City. Frasier and Lemonhope had not talked a lot during those days and Lemonhope found himself constantly reflecting on what had happened. Even when he tried to forget the city, he was reminded of it by the jester clothes that he was still wearing. He was reminded of his torment by his friend, or what he called a friend.

The jester clothes were really starting to bother him. Through their trek he had torn it and long discarded the bells, except for one. The colours on it were fading to become browner as they were ill washed and not highly regarded. The jester shoes were also not made for traveling, and the ground had taken its toll on their soles and Lemonhope's feet. He was in a desperate need for some new clothes.

It was as Lemonhope was pondering this fact that he saw a small hut next to the road that they were following. He pointed it out to Frasier, who seemed to be playing with the grass on the side of the road with his powers, and Lemonhope struggled to keep up with the grassling as Frasier dashed towards the hut bursting with excitement. Frasier was already knocking at a rapid-fire pace when Lemonhope caught up. The door opened before Lemonhope could even catch his breath. "Who is it?" came the irritated voice of an old man from the darkness.
"We're… weary… travellers, sir," gasped Lemonhope.
"We only seek a place to stay for a while," chirped Frasier. "And some clothes as well," he added in a mumble.

The door seemed to be closing for a moment before it swung open. "Come in, all are welcome!" said the Fishman behind the old voice. The Fishman had buckets of water strapped to his feet and wore a small hat on his head. He sported some ragged underwear and nothing else to cover himself. The inside of the hut seemed to be just as ragged as him and seemingly larger than it appeared to be outside. They now stood in a living room with torn couches and broken armchairs. "Take a seeeat," said the old Fishman indicating towards the couch with most of its stuffing pouring out. He made his way to an armchair which had fallen over and was barely intact. He lifted it upright and sat down on it, the chair groaning beneath him.

Frasier and Lemonhope cautiously made their way to the couch and each sat on the side of the couch that seemed to be the least damaged. "Oh, let me get the light!" said the Fishman. He jumped out of his chair and pulled a string connected to a lightbulb. A click could be heard followed by a snap as the string broke. The light did not come on. "Much better," mumbled the Fishman. "So, what brought you two here?"
Frasier shifted uncomfortably in his seat before he spoke for the two. "We recently escaped… left Casino City," he began. "We've been making our way to Club Ice and have been looking for some new clothes for Lemonhope here along the way."

Frasier avoided looking into the Fishman's eyes as he spoke but made eye-contact again as soon as he was done. "Ah, Casino City… And where do you say you came from again?" asked the Fishman.
"Casino City," Lemonhope piped up, slightly frustrated by the old Fish's senility.
"And you need some food, yes?" remarked the Fishman, now seemingly lost in thought.
"No, we need clothes!" shouted Lemonhope.
"Oh, you can have what you want, I don't use most of it now the days. Anyways, let me go make you some food."

The Fishman then stood up and walked through a door which was broken in half and led to what appeared to be a bathroom. "This guy is insane," whispered Frasier to Lemonhope.
"I completely agree, do you think we should get out of here?" replied Lemonhope.
"Not without taking a look first; I've always wondered what the inside of a crazy person's house looks like."
"We can't! Who knows what he'll do if he catches us snooping around."
"Don't worry," said Frasier with an accompanying pat to Lemonhope's back. "He even said himself that he doesn't use most of the stuff here anymore. I mean, look at the place!"

Frasier had a point, as the hut seemed to be steeping into a derelict state. "Ok," admitted Lemonhope. "We can have a look, but no taking what we don't own!"
Frasier gave a small nod and dashed into a door which was slightly better looking than the one the Fishman went into.

Lemonhope decided that it would be best to explore the room that he was already in. He wanted to make himself a basis from which he will build as he explored. He started at the entrance where a pink dresser stood. Above it was what looked like a draped portrait or mirror. He couldn't see what was on top of the dresser, so he pulled out the bottom drawer and perched himself precariously on top of it and finally had a proper look at the top. The item that caught his attention first was a photograph in a rotting wood frame. The photo contained the visage of a much younger Fishman in a very formal suit. Next to them was a Fishman dressed in a crimson gown. A Fish-woman then. In front of the pair of Fishpeople holding each other was a considerably smaller Fishperson who was holding a small plush squid. Lemonhope turned the frame around and found a date that made it clear that the photo was taken years ago.

The next item that Lemonhope turned his attention to was a music box sitting on the centre of the drawer. When he opened it, a small Fishperson ballerina popped up and a pleasant tune played. Lemonhope started humming along and continued humming when he closed the box.

As he scanned the surface for something else to inspect, he saw that the draping hung down onto the dresser. He pulled at it and looked toward the concealed object. As the cloth slowly dropped down, thousands of Lemonhope's began to appear, each of them staring at Lemonhope. Lemonhope jumped a bit and fell over, pulling the cloth down with him. He landed with a loud thud and he looked to see if the Fishman came back to see what the noise was. When no Fishman appeared, he looked back towards the thousands of Lemonhopes only to realise that he was startled by a broken mirror. He chuckled to himself and realised that he was way too on edge. After quickly recomposing himself he made his way back up the dresser.

After looking at various nick-nacks he came across a strange looking piece of paper. It looked like it was torn, taped together, and then torn again. He picked it up and realised that it was only half of a letter. He looked down the side of the dresser and saw a kicked over bin with the other half of the paper poking out. He climbed down and picked up the other half and combined to two to see what the letter said.

Dear Obed,

You're no longer the man we knew. I doubt that you would even know the man you were yourself, but I don't know much about illnesses such as the one that plagues you. I beg that you will forgive us for leaving you, and that you will one day remember the family that you have forgotten. If you ever do remember, come to the marshes.

With forgotten love
The Marsh Family

Lemonhope's humming had ceased as he read this. He was slightly shocked to find out that the Fishman had a family, let alone a name. As he stepped down from the dresser, he slipped on the cloth that he pulled down earlier and started falling. As he fell, he grabbed for something to hold onto and pulled out the top drawer in the process. His tumble created a loud ruckus which Lemonhope was certain Obed would hear.

As he reoriented himself, he noticed that he pulled out a drawer full of paintings, as many were now strewn across the floor. It seemed to be a series of self-portraits by Obed and were dated across many years. Near the top of the pile was a near perfect portrait of Obed, followed by a near identical one after that. As Lemonhope went down the pile, the portraits became more and more abstract, where in the later ones the painter becoming unrecognisable. All that could be said about the later paintings were that they portrayed some ill mockery of a Fishman and were terrifying to those who saw it. Lemonhope scrambled away from the pile when he saw the final and latest portrait. "What's wrong?" Frasier asked as he returned from the room he went into. He had a pile of clothes in his arms and had a sock over the tip of his head.

Before Lemonhope could even respond, a scream rang out in the shed. Obed was standing in the centre of the living room and looked incredibly angry. "Thieves!" he shouted and raised a club which he seemed to have been hiding beneath the couch.
"We're not thieves?" replied Lemonhope slightly confused.
"You broke into my house! You're trying to steal my clothes!"
Lemonhope and Frasier began to back away from Obed and towards the door, stumbling over the paintings as they did so.
"But you said we can take some of your clothes," Frasier said. He was by the door now and reaching for the handle.
"I would never give some hooligans my clothes. Get out!" shouted Obed.

Frasier then swung open the door and dragged Lemonhope outside with him. The moment that they were outside, Frasier slammed the door shut and the two began to run back from where they came. After a few seconds of running, they realised that they weren't followed outside. All that could be seen at the hut were socks and pants that Frasier dropped while running away.

"That's strange," remarked Frasier.
"Well, the guy is insane, and I do think he has some memory problems," said Lemonhope between gasps for breath.
"Alrighty then… I got some clothes for you!" Frasier half sung as he lifted the bundle of clothes. "We won't even have to modify it since I found a bunch of kid-sized clothes. The guy's a real weirdo keeping clothes like that."
"Obed is most certainly a strange man," mumbled Lemonhope.
"Obed? Who's that?" questioned Frasier.

Lemonhope quickly explained to Frasier what he found and learned of Obed. Once he was finished Frasier was nodding his head and stroking an invisible beard. "Truly tragic," he said once he was done nodding. "But we have to get you something better than that," he said and gestured towards Lemonhope's sad excuse for a jester outfit.
After quickly picking up the clothes Frasier dropped, the two started fitting Lemonhope to see what would work. They settled on a formal suit as the rest was "utter garbage," as Frasier put it.

"Well, I guess I look stylish now, but we can't just drop all the clothes here," said Lemonhope.
He turned back to the hut which was now merely a silhouette as the sun set behind it. Besides returning the unused clothes, Lemonhope felt a sense of duty to the old man. He felt he knew how to bring him back from the brink of insanity and that it would be easy enough to accomplish. All he needed to do was play a little song and play with the Fishman's heart as he played with his strings.

"Frasier, we need to help Obed," said Lemonhope with conviction.
"The weird Fish guy?" replied Frasier. "Can we really help him?"
Frasier shifted slightly. "I know you could do it for me, but you don't even know him," said Frasier.
"I know enough," was all Lemonhope said before he marched towards the hut.
He had the key to Obed's heart, and he was going to crack open his chest of old memories.