this one is already seven months old.

started: 3/4/2022

Peppino's not feeling it. at all. the running, the jumping, the rolling and chewing and punching and kicking - the thrill of the towers doesn't help keep his mood up, the constant reminder that rent is due today and he's basically out of pocket easily putting a damper on things.

no one had been showing up or calling his restaurant. not even the Noise had shown up within the last week. he'd been banking on that gremlin, but he'd up and gone, and now, Peppino's probably gonna go out of business because of it. ... or Mr Sticks was probably gonna make him deliver pizzas everywhere again. Peppino's not sure why he does that, since he doesn't even get paid for it. maybe Mr Sticks is too lazy to do it himself. ... but you literally sit on a scooter and let it do the work for you. you only have to get up to walk to the door, knock, swap the goods, then walk back to the scooter. ... eh, he's a landlord, Peppino figures; of course Mr Sticks wouldn't want to do that. that would be too much like hard work.

so when the Noise finally does show up, with a maniacal grin on his face, Peppino can't muster the energy to think about why he's so excited. the stress and exhaustion of not being able to find the super special ingredients in any of the towers had dulled any and all anxiety he might've usually felt towards Noise's menacing aura. Noise, immediately, feels the heavy mood, which, in turn, dulls his eyes to what almost seems like concern, but he pushes through it with a grin ten times more wider and sharper than before.

'hey Italian, wonder where I've-'

'not now, Noise.'

'ha! I bet you have! I- ...' Noise stops himself short, blinking, taken aback by his dismissal. his entire body droops, as if slapped. Peppino isn't even looking at him, instead staring at a spot on the ground to the left of Noise. 'uh.' Peppino explodes with a huge sigh, a hand anxiously rubbing the side of his face, but it's not because of the Noise. Noise blinks again, confused and stumped, until he clicks his tongue and bounds back with renewed energy, insistent on showing Peppino his schemes.

'well, I'VE been busy! and I've got a new thing to show you that I think you'll REALLY get a kick-'

'it's a bomb.' the Noise stops halfway through, once again steamrolled into silence. he stares at Peppino, who continues staring at the ground, continuously rubbing his cheek. his eyes look more depressed than usual. 'you're hiding a bomb behind your back that'll probably be rigged to blow me up.' as if on cue, a trail of smoke flutters behind Noise, and then there's a dull BOOM as the Noise goes up in a toony plume of smoke and fire. once the clouds clear, he's covered in soot, a cartoon cut-out of a man that just got 'sploded. he slaps the soot off his person, then turns frowning eyes upon Peppino, who hasn't even cracked a smug smile, or looked up from the stupid spot on the floor that he's so transfixed on.

'what's got you like this? you're no fun when you don't get riled up.' Noise pulls out his skateboard from god knows where that he leans against, then pulls out a pack of cigs and a lighter from his back. 'no calls or somethin'?'

'unless you count my landlord, no.' Peppino's gaze finally snaps up to the Noise at the sound of shattering glass. in an instant, the Noise went from a slouched, droopy position, to a sharp, positively pissed off, hunched over stance, the unlit cig crushed into a fist and his skateboard dropped to the ground, ready to be kicked off in a moments notice. Peppino, now his turn to be stumped, watches Noise approach him, his cape just as beastly-turned as him. 'uh?' a sharp clawed hand thumps onto his shoulder, clutching him desperately, the Noise impossibly close, eyes ringed and wild with flames dancing in his red pupils. even his whiskers are on their tail ends of madness, as human and rat glare into each others eyes.

'did you just say, Land Lord?' the Noise practically growls, sharp teeth clacking, breath panting. Peppino, too anxious to even breathe right, minutely nods, not at all interested in getting chomped today.

'Mr Sticks?' Peppino whimpers, sweating profusely. that only seems to enrage the Noise more, agitated steam puffing from his nose. and then, Peppino is struck with a terrible, awful, absolutely horrendous idea. 'kill?'

'kill.' and he shouldn't; he really, morally shouldn't, but the confirmation makes his heart burst with happiness. he breaks out into his own beastly grin, mirroring Noise's mania, and clamps his hand down on Noise's shoulder in return, their flames fuelling each other.

'Kill.' Peppino affirms.