Chapter Forty-Eight: Bureaucratic Errors

Jack Noir's already-crappy day was about to get crappier, and he knew it. Whenever the Queen requested his presence, it was never for an invitation to one of the eight planets for a vacation. It was never for a congratulations on over ten thousand years of hard work that he put in every day as the Archagent of Derse—all the parking citations he needed to sign off on, all the paperwork that he had to file, not to mention the Courtyard Droll's mental incompetence and the Dignitary's constant scheming… It was never even for a simple 'hello'.

The Black Queen would never stoop to complimenting him—not to such a low level. All the Archagent wanted was to finish his paperwork and relax for the rest of the day, maybe visit the dungeons and find an inmate or two to stab. He never considered that maybe his love of stabbing people was becoming a problem—a lot of the time, he was merely trying to say hello.

None of that today, though. Today, he had been summoned personally by the Black Queen through his two all-seeing fenestrated windows. He'd once had four fenestrated windows which, together, formed a Cubicle of Vigilance, but an old woman had made off with two of them a long time ago. So Jack had to make do with half of what he usually had. In all honesty, one fenestrated window was more than enough, but Jack much preferred forming four windows into a cubicle—it made it harder for the lesser agents and Enforcers to disturb his day.

Now, he simply had to make do. And with the war against Prospit back in full swing…

And so, Jack pulled on his tattered suit jacket and donned his rumpled old fedora, walking out of his office, down the elevator, and out into the city. The Archagent spared a glance to the sky, looking at the moon high overhead, anchored by the giant obsidian chain that connected it to Derse.

Jack's office was situated within the Amethyst Tower, which served as a headquarters of sorts for the Dersite Agents—of whom Jack was the overall commander, being the Archagent. The Amethyst Tower was, perhaps not so coincidentally, located not far from the Silent Dungeon—the most hated and feared prison on all of Derse. In the near distance, Jack could see four of the massive prototyping towers, marking the location of the Obsidian Keep, where the Queen resided.

Curfew was not currently in effect, so there were citizens roaming the streets, but none of them dared remain within the vicinity of the Archagent. Wherever Jack walked, he would see fellow Dersites fleeing into the alleyways, windows being shuttered, doors being sealed. He allowed himself a faint grin, enjoying the fear he struck into the hearts of the weaklings.

It took Jack nearly fifteen minutes to walk to the Obsidian Keep. He did not even bother to ask for permission to enter—the gate sentries promptly allowed him entry, not wanting to go through the trouble of being stabbed by the Archagent for facilitating any sort of delay. Jack walked straight into the Keep, heading down the dimly-lit corridor that led to the throne room.

Waiting in front of the heavy obsidian doors that opened up into the throne room was another Dersite, taller than the Archagent. He wore a suit that was, unlike Jack's, completely free of wrinkles and creases. He also wore a bowler hat instead of a fedora. He arched a brow at Jack, taking another drag from his cigarette. "You're late," the Draconian Dignitary remarked.

"What the hell are you doing here, D?" Jack grumbled. It was just his luck—the only thing worse than having to answer a summons to the Black Queen was having to answer it alongside his Number Two. The Dignitary was efficient and ruthless, sure, but his silver-tongued, glossy attitude grated on the Archagent.

"Summons from the Queen," the Dignitary replied, exhaling a cloud of smoke to the ceiling. "Must be serious, calling both of us in at the same time."

"Or maybe she wants to make us wear princess costumes. Who knows what goes on in Her Majesty the Bitch's head." Jack rolled his eyes. "Let's get this over with."

The Dignitary dropped his cigarette to the floor and ground it underfoot before pushing open one of the doors, allowing him and the Archagent entry into the throne room. The throne room was not overly large—merely a round, medium-sized chamber with two thrones in the center; the larger one made of obsidian, and the smaller made of amethyst. The black throne was empty, but occupying the smaller one was a tall, thin, beautiful Dersite woman. She wore a crown on her head and a tight-fitting black waistcoat. She also wore a silver chain around her neck, a golden ring with eight orbs dangling on the chain below her throat.

The Black Queen had had that ring for as long as Jack could remember…but the strange thing was that now, three of those small stones were blazing with light. Something was amiss; the Archagent could sense the tingle in the air.

"Do you gentlemen know why I have summoned you, today?" The Black Queen's voice was soft and crisp, almost like a purr. Many who heard it were often lulled into complacency by how harmless it sounded…but Jack had known the Queen for far too long to be able to ignore how dangerous she was. But that also did not mean that he feared her, which he probably should have.

"Is it because you want my butter rum muffin recipe?" Jack asked, already weary of this meeting. He never liked how the Black Queen enjoyed toying with her prey before finally striking. He was very much a 'stab first, ask questions later' type. He also noted how the Dignitary had remained silent in response to the Queen's query—perhaps the Dignitary had already known that Jack would break the ice with a snarky retort.

The Black Queen bared her pointed teeth in a wolfish smile. "Much as I do enjoy our usual banter, Noir, you would do well to keep your tongue shuttered away before I decide it needs removing."

"No, to answer your question," The Dignitary inserted himself into the conversation with the ease of an IV needle, "we do not know why you have summoned us. But we would like to be enlightened."

"The Heroes have arrived." the Black Queen ceased with the foreplay and got right to the point, waiting for her declaration to sink in.

The Dignitary blinked. "The Nobles, you mean? That is quite impossible. The Nobles are dead. I killed a few of them myself."

"No, I do not mean the Nobles—they have been dead for over ten thousand years." The Black Queen gave a sigh of impatience. "I mean the Heroes, the ones the consorts are waiting for. Gentlemen, the Sylph is now awake." The Black Queen picked up a remote from the arm of her throne and clicked a button. There was a mechanical whirring noise as a fenestrated window was lowered from the ceiling. Jack and the Dignitary stepped out of the way, up towards the Queen's throne, so that they could see what was being displayed on the screen.

They were rewarded with a view of an empty street, this footage obviously having been captured during the curfew hours. Then, all of a sudden, an auburn-haired girl in violet pajamas came bounding down the road, flying through the air like gravity had no hold over her. She had an expression of pure happiness on her face—Jack could tell that she was laughing, even though there was no audio. It made him nauseous.

But the most surprising part was the fact that she was no Dersite…she was human. Just like the Nobles from the consorts' mythology. Even the Dignitary was unable to mask his surprise.

"This footage was taken from the moon, less than two hours ago," the Black Queen explained. "And it begs the question how we were not aware of the Heroes' arrival until we saw the Sylph running down one of our streets in plain view. Tell me, Archagent…when was the last time surveillance was performed on the lunar towers?"

"Two thousand years ago," Jack answered without hesitation. "Got tired of peeping into empty bedrooms."

"Well, had you bothered to check within the last twenty years, those towers might not have been quite so empty!" The Black Queen's frustration peeked through her calm, composed exterior for a brief moment. Then she regained her composure, as if nothing had happened. "I want someone's head for this, Noir. Have it sendificated to my private chambers by the end of the week."

"Done." Jack gave a single nod, already drawing up a mental list of Agents whom he disliked.

"And what of the Sylph?" the Dignitary gestured to the fenestrated window. "As long as we're ignoring the Rules, we should take care of her. She will cause trouble."

"Fuck the Sylph," Jack interrupted. "She's just a healer. We should be focusing on the Prince. He will be the most dangerous of them all."

Then the Draconian Dignitary gave Jack a rather large surprise by saying, "I believe this is something we can both agree on. If the Prince of Mind were to mingle with the commoners, we could possibly have a full-scale uprising on our hands by the end of the month. He should be dealt with immediately. Him, and then the Thane. The Sylph and the Witch will not be such a problem with their male counterparts out of the equation."

"Enough." The Black Queen held up a hand, silencing the two Agents. "The young ones in the towers are not truly the Heroes—merely their dream selves. Having them on the moon makes it more convenient to kill them, certainly, but it also presents us with a golden opportunity."

The Dignitary caught the Queen's drift before Jack did, much to the Archagent's supreme annoyance. "Focus on killing their waking selves, then," the Agent deduced. "Without their waking selves, the Heroes will revert to their dream selves. Then we will own them. Perhaps we should go a step further—capture their dream selves, throw them in the Silent Dungeon. Once we kill one of their waking selves, we can off their dream selves at the same time. That's the only surefire way to make sure they stay dead."

Jack Noir rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. It was just like the Dignitary, weaving intricate plans and filling the Queen's ears with smart-sounding nonsense. He'd prefer to just go after the Heroes and keep stabbing until they stayed down. His fingers unconsciously tapped the hilt of his knife, and he was overcome with a sudden longing to bury the blade in someone. His favorite attack: one quick thrust, up through the back of the neck and straight into the brain… Or a quick slash across the throat…

"My thoughts exactly." The Black Queen gave a little smile. It was a cold smile, one that did not reach her glaring white eyes. "We can start with the Prince. The Thane, too, shall follow. Noir, you will travel to the Land of Thought and Steam, and you will handle the Prince's waking self personally. As for you, Dignitary, I want you to travel to the Land of Rain and Rivers."

Normally, the Dignitary would have hesitated. He was not entirely sure which planet corresponded to which Hero, but the Land of Rain and Rivers was a no-brainer. It was the Knight's world, home to the cobra-consorts. Ever since classifying the cobra-consorts as a threat to Dersite dominance, the Black Queen had maintained a strong military presence on that planet for centuries. It was considered to be the most hazardous of the eight worlds—most sane Dersite soldiers would rather be stationed on the Battlefield under the Black King than the Land of Rain and Rivers.

If anyone would be able to handle themselves there, it would be the Dignitary. Jack would probably end up killing several of the consorts there, and then he would end up having to face an entire planet of angry cobras who had the ability to manipulate energy. The Dignitary, at least, would be able to avoid confrontation.

"The Knight's waking self will be arriving there soon—he is the most dangerous of the Prospitian Heroes, and as such should be given priority equal to that of the Prince," the Black Queen continued. "Noir, you will send one of your Agents—the Brute, perhaps, or the Droll—to Prospit. Send them with the dark ring and give them orders to kill the Knight's dream self. Coordinate this assassination with the Dignitary; kill both of the Knight's selves at the same time. If we can take out the Knight and the Prince early on, this war will be a cakewalk."

There were a few more things that the Black Queen wished to discuss, and Jack didn't even bother to conceal his boredom—yawning several times in the middle of the Dignitary's little monologues. Then they were both dismissed.

Jack could feel the Dignitary's ice-cold gaze on him as they walked together down the hall towards the entrance of the Obsidian Keep, but he countered it with his innate ability to not give two shits. "Talking the Queen's ear off, today," Jack remarked as they stepped outside, passing through the gates onto the Boulevard. "You realize that's why she likes me better? I talk less. Less bullshit comes out of my mouth."

"Perhaps," the Dignitary conceded, lighting up another cigarette, exhaling a puff of smoke into the sky. "But I can do without the Queen's favor. I'm the only one who can keep you from committing wanton genocide against the civilians; the Queen will not replace me even if you try to."

Jack found that he had no good response to that, because the Dignitary was absolutely right. His scowl deepened, and his urge to stab someone started to make his eye twitch. He started to honestly consider lessening the inmate population of the Silent Dungeon by two or five before leaving for the Land of Thought and Steam. This was no longer just a fanciful thought; it was dangerously close to actually becoming an item on Jack's agenda.

"How do you think you're gonna off the Knight?" Jack decided to change tack. He could not argue with the Dignitary without getting angry, so he would instead discuss something that they both had in common at the moment: upcoming assassination assignments.

"Not entirely sure, yet," the Dignitary admitted. "I'll have to play it by ear. I think I'll probably garrote him."

"Gettin' in close, are you?" Jack arched a brow once more. "Not your style. Expected you to go for something more long-ranged and gutless."

The Draconian Dignitary responded to Jack Noir's barbed remarks only with a faint smile. One benefit to working under Jack for thousands of years for the Dignitary was his acquired imperviousness to the foul-tempered Archagent's insults. "I will not be garroting the Knight while he is awake, obviously. That would just be plain dangerous."

Jack was still muttering under his breath even as the two Agents approached the Amethyst Tower. Curfew hours were still not in effect, but the Boulevard—the busiest street in all of Derse—was completely barren and devoid of activity. The Dersites had kept to the shadows when they'd seen Jack walking to the Obsidian Keep, but with Jack and the Dignitary walking together… There wasn't a single living soul in sight.

The Dignitary accompanied Jack up to the Archagent's office to finalize details for the upcoming assassinations. The Black Queen gave the orders, but it was up to the Archagent and his subordinates to plan and carry them out. And planning assassinations—loath as Jack was to admit it—was more up the Dignitary's alley than Jack's.

"It's settled," the Dignitary declared after a few minutes of terse discussion with his superior. "The Hegemonic Brute will go to Prospit with the Droll as backup. The Brute will also get the dark ring—he'll need it, if he's going after the Knight's dream self while it's awake. Dream selves are tricky."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack grunted, filing away yet another stack of hated paperwork that was cluttering up his desk. "That's the easy part. What I want to know is who will be running the show on the home front while the both of us are off-world?"

"The Chief of the Enforcers should be up for the job," the Dignitary replied. Before Jack could even protest, the Dignitary held up a hand. "I am aware of your dislike for the man. However, his narrow-mindedness will serve our purpose. The Queen will handle the dream selves—she will be supported by the Enforcers, and as Chief of the Enforcers, our man will be the best candidate for acting-Archagent."

"Fine, I'll let the idiot have the job. But if he fucks things up, it'll be your head."

That got a chuckle from the Dignitary. "I think not; I am far too important, here. It will be someone else's head."

"Fair enough." Jack reclined in his chair. "You can get out of my office, now. And have the Authority Regulator sent in on your way out. If he's gonna be the new me for a while, he'd better get used to this fucking paperwork."

Gino Caiazzo resisted the temptation to tear into the cheese pizza that had just been delivered less than ten minutes ago. It had been taking up most of his computer desk, so he was forced to move it onto his bed before continuing to play Sburb with Gwen.

He watched through his computer screen as Gwen shattered her cruxite artifact. Upon zooming out from her house, Gino was surprised to find that he was no longer looking at Downingtown. Gwen's house now appeared to be located on an island of sorts, in the middle of a tropical ocean. This had to just be the server feed's graphics fucking with his computer—Gino still hadn't quite figured out how the server application allowed him to view Gwen's house without use of a camera, but having Gwen's entire house transported to another place? No, that was ridiculous.

And yet…

And yet, he'd heard snatches of what had happened to Theo, of how a meteorite had apparently demolished his neighborhood, but he and his house had somehow escaped the destruction… And, just now, he could have sworn he'd heard another not-so-distant explosion after Gwen broke her cruxite artifact. Could that have been another meteor? Combining that with the news of Downingtown East getting obliterated by a freak meteor impact...

"Hey, Gino! You seein' the news?" Gino heard his Dad calling up from the den in the first floor of the apartment. "There's fuckin' meteors fallin' all over the goddamn place!"

"Cool." Gino rolled his eyes, irritated at being interrupted. Whenever his Dad called up to him, it derailed his train of thought, and he'd have to take a moment to get himself back on track. He picked up his cellphone and tried calling Gwen, but it didn't even go to her voicemail. It was almost as if her number no longer existed. So instead, he had to resort to using PalHassle.

-gentlemanConsigliere began hassling gamblingTheorist-

GC: uh…
GC: gwen?
GC: gwen, wtf just happened?
GC: the server feed's showin ur house on a fuckin island or some shit now
GT: Gino, I have a weird question for you
GC: uh, i think it wont be half as weird as this fuckin game is makin itself out 2 be
GT: Did you hear an explosion?
GT: Just after I broke my artifact?
GC: uh…
GC: ya i kinda did
GC: y?
GT: FUCK
GT: I was right, I knew I was right…
GT: Okay, Gino, you need to listen to me
GT: These meteorites that are crashing all over the world?
GT: They're targeting us
GT: They're targeting anyone who plays this game
GT: And so many people have already started playing…
GT: Gino this is going to sound ridiculous
GT: But I think the world is ending
GT: My sprite told me that the meteorites hitting us are only the first of thousands…
GT: The first, and the smallest
GC: ur rly gonna listen to wat a ghostly rabbit sez 2 u?
GC: dont sound very reliable 2 me, yo
GT: It's not just the rabbit in the sprite, anymore
GT: My Gramps kinda jumped into it, and now…
GT: It's complicated, but my sprite is pretty damn reliable right now
GT: If he says Earth is doomed, I'm inclined to believe him
GC: but…
GC: i…
GC: jesus, how can we stop it, then?
GT: We can't stop it, Gino
GT: All we can do is escape it
GT: Tami's installed the server application
GT: You need to load your client disc and connect to her
GT: And you need to do it now
GT: And whatever you do, break your cruxite artifact before the countdown on your cruxtruder hits zero
GT: Shit, I have to go
GT: Underlings are coming
GT: Call me when you arrive on your planet, will you?
GC: planet?
GC: wtf r u talkin-

-gamblingTheorist is no longer hassling gentlemanConsigliere-

Gino stared at his computer screen for almost two straight minutes, not saying a word, too shocked to speak. Then, when the shock wore off, denial came rushing in to fill the void. The world was ending? He was being target by a meteorite? It was bullshit. All bullshit.

On the other hand…

Gino's gaze swiveled over to the window. Outside, he could see cars rushing past on Lincoln Highway. He could see Central Presbyterian Church in the near distance—well, only the very top of it over all the trees. He could see the woods on the far side of Lincoln Highway…though everything he could see was obscured slightly by the pouring rain. And because of the rain, he could not clearly see the meteorites falling from the sky—only brief flashes of red fire.

The idea of the world getting destroyed by meteorites was a ridiculous one, but…but the meteorites were still falling, and Gino could see them with his own eyes. He still wasn't convinced that the world was ending, but some part of his mind decided that he could not afford to risk it. He had his Dad to think of, as well.

And so, Gino's next action was to take his client disc and slot it into the computer drive. The introduction window flashed into existence, displaying the possible hosts to connect with. Gino did not select any of them, however. Instead, he picked up his phone and found Tami Abramov's number in his contacts list, calling her.

After ringing several times, Tami answered. "You got your client loaded up?" she asked, getting right down to business. This didn't surprise Gino all that much—Tami rarely spoke to him, and when she did…well, she rarely had nice things to say to him. Probably still bitter over the failed relationship they'd had their freshman year.

"Yeah, Tam, waitin' on your go."

Gino muttered under his breath. Why, of all people, did it have to be Tami Abramov who was connecting with him? Honestly, he'd rather even deal with Adam Tarrant than Tami—and that was saying a lot! But, if the world were actually about to end…being picky wouldn't exactly be in his best interests.

When the game notified Gino that a host player was attempting to connect with him, and when Gino verified that the host player's IP address matched Tami's, he hit ENTER and started off the shitstorm that made up the client application.

There was a series of loud thumps on the ceiling. A faint crack actually appeared on the ceiling of Gino's bedroom, and any dust that had settled came falling loose. "Jesus Christ, Tam, couldn't you be more gentle with the fuckin' machines?"

"Yeah, I could." Tami's tight-lipped response was. "I just popped open your cruxtruder for you. You're welcome. And here…"

Gino nearly jumped, startled by a pre-punched captchalogue card that appeared out of thin air and fell onto his head. And with that, Tami hung up. Gino listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before laying the phone back down onto his desk. Bitches really need to chill… he muttered to himself in his head.

"Yo, Troublemaker, what the fuck's makin' all that racket up there?" Gino's Dad hollered up from downstairs once more. Obviously, he had heard Tami's handiwork with the three entry machines.

"Nothing, Dad! Have another beer!"

"Sounds good! You want one?"

"Later!" Gino massaged his temples in frustration for a moment before grabbing his jacket, leaving his room, and climbing the ladder to the roof. While Tami had been nice enough to build the ladder, she had not bothered to include some sort of covering for the opening in the roof. The hallway was already getting wet from all the rain that was pouring through.

Gino pulled his coat tighter about his neck to keep the rain from getting him too wet. There was a glowing orb of pulsing yellow light hovering in the air over the opened cruxtruder. It was the kernelsprite, waiting for Gino to prototype it with something. The teenager ignored it for now, focusing instead on retrieving the yellow cruxite dowel and securing it to the totem lathe. He inserted the pre-punched captchalogue card into the lathe's receptacle, watching the carving mechanism descend and shape the dowel into its proper form, corresponding with the code of the pre-punched captchalogue card.

As he worked, Gino was conscious of an odd countdown that had appeared on the sides of his cruxtruder. As of now, it was counting down from about four minutes. He did his best to ignore the countdown—Gwen had, after all, warned him to break his cruxite artifact before it ran out. Maybe, if anyone who played this game was being targeted by meteorites, they had until that countdown hit zero before… Well, before BOOM.

Gino removed the carved cruxite dowel from the lathe and ran it over to the alchemiter, setting it down on the scanning pedestal. Twice, he nearly slipped on the slick rooftop, but was able to save himself at the last minute. Muttering under his breath, cursing Tami for putting all the machines on the roof, he activated the alchemiter and watched the mechanical arm unfold itself and scan the carved dowel with its laser.

There was a pause…and then Gino's eyes widened as a man made solely of yellow energy—a shade of yellow identical to the kernelsprite and the cruxite—appeared on the larger pedestal of the alechemiter. The energy-man was wearing robes, as well as a distinctive collar. He was a priest. And he was holding something…

The ghostly priest grinned at Gino and placed the object he was holding down onto the pedestal. Then he vanished. The object he'd left behind remained, however. Gino picked it up, examining it. It was a round loaf of bread. It appeared to be made of cruxite, but strangely enough still smelled like a freshly-baked loaf of bread.

Not wanting to spend another moment on the roof, stuck out in the pouring rain, Gino started hurrying back towards the ladder. Unfortunately, as Gino started to make his way over to the ladder, a meteorite came howling out of the sky, slamming into the earth somewhere to the north. It had been close, this time…less than two miles away.

The shockwave caused Gino to lose his balance when he hit a slippery patch on his roof, and he went down. He was able to avoid striking his head on the roof, but he lost his grip on the cruxite bread. It flew from his grasp, bounced once across the roof, twice…and then vanished over the edge of the roof.

"Fuckin' goddamn shit!" Gino let loose with a stream of profanity as he scrambled back to his feet and peered over the edge of the roof. He could see the cruxite loaf of bread down on the ground, resting in one of the bushes that surrounded the apartment complex. He then glanced over his shoulder at the cruxtruder.

Two minutes.

Still swearing enough to make a sailor wince, Gino clambered down the ladder back into the upstairs hallway, ignoring the yellow kernelsprite, which followed him into the house. He ran into his Dad at the top of the stairs. Mr. Caiazzo was standing still, gawking at the ladder that, until very recently, had not existed. "Hey, where'd that fuckin' ladder come from?" Dad asked, pointing with both index fingers, a look of pure bewilderment on his face. "I've only had one beer today, so I know for damn sure it ain't a hallucination."

"Don't worry about it, Dad." Gino brushed past his Dad, flying down the stairs at the speed of light.

"Wait a sec, Troublemaker!" Dad called after his son. "Where'd the pizza go?"

"It's on my bed, help yourself!" Gino shouted back, not wasting any time. He reached the ground floor and sprinted through the den, ripping open the front door and plunging straight back into the rain. He glanced up to the dark, low-hanging storm clouds, as if he could see the meteorite that was possibly about to wipe out his house.

Not thinking about how much time he had left, Gino sprinted around the corner of the apartment complex and retrieved the cruxite bread from the bushes. Once he had the artifact, he hightailed it back into his house.

There wasn't any dramatic figuring out of how to use the artifact, no great revelations, or anything like that. Gino was in a rush. He sprinted back inside, shrugged out of his jacket, and gripped the yellow cruxite bread in both hands…

…and, after taking one last, deep breath, he broke it, as if he were a priest presiding over communion.

The door and windows were obscured with a sudden, almost blinding yellow light that Gino could not see through. He noticed that he could no longer hear the rain pounding against the house, nor the thunder growling overhead. And when the yellow light vanished…Gino glanced through the window and was shocked to find that he was no longer looking out at Lincoln Highway or Downingtown. Instead, all he saw was a vast expanse of grasslands. There was a thin veil of steam that hung in the low sky, fed by hundreds of geysers and hot water springs that dotted the landscape.

Before Gino could really take in his new surroundings, however, he was interrupted by a violent explosion of profanity that was coming from upstairs. The voice didn't belong to his Dad, however…it sounded like an incredibly angry guy with an overblown Italian Brooklyn accent. Well...not too much like Gino's Dad. Mr. Caiazzo's accent wasn't quite so over the top.

Gino frowned, climbing the stairs. The loud swearing was coming from his bedroom. When he entered his room, he nearly pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Hovering in midair was a cheese pizza. It was nearly transparent, and composed entirely out of yellow energy, just like the apparition of that cruxite priest. And even though it had no mouth, it was swearing up a storm.

"Dad, what the fuck did you do?" Gino exclaimed, nearly retrieving one of the weaponized pizzas from his strife specibus that he never brought out unless he was strifing with his Dad.

"I was just eatin' some of the fuckin' pizza, then this crazy light comes straight at me, collides with the pizza, and… Poof." Mr. Caiazzo shrugged haplessly. "Magic talkin' pizza. You, uh… You played the Skaianet game, didn't ya?"

"Yeah, that's why all the meteorites have been fucking everything up," Gino replied, still warily staring at the pizzasprite.

"Hey, asswipes! I'm still fuckin' here!" Pizzasprite finally seemed to notice that he was being ignored. "Least you can do after creating me is to at least pretend I still fuckin' exist!"

"Hey, pizza, c'mon!" Gino tried to calm Pizzasprite down, though he himself would admit that he was terrible at getting people to relax. "Chill out. Just take a deep breath, and-"

"Fuck. You." Pizzasprite glowed a brighter shade of yellow, pulsing almost pure white on each word. "Pizza? Am I really the best fuckin' thing you could come up with to prototype with the kernelsprite? My entire existence is a goddamn fuckin' joke. I am a sentient pizza. I am a sentient pizza telling you to go fuck yourself. What's wrong with this shittastic picture, you ask? The answer, asswipes, is every-fuckin'-thing!"

Gino blinked several times, almost in some form shellshock from the whole tirade, shared a glance with his Dad. He was surprised his hair hadn't been blasted backwards.

"Heh... I like the little guy," Mr. Caiazzo chuckled, completely dissolving the tension like he always did.

In spite of himself, Gino couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, me too!"

Pizzasprite started to glow a really violent shade of yellow-white. "I swear to fuck I'm gonna kill you both in your fuckin' sleep."