Tweeg continues to lay on the ground for several minutes after the person he thought was his mortal enemy had parted ways with him. His mind is racing, going several million miles a minute in all different directions. He starts to question himself, his loyalty, and his own actions for all those years. Not once in his life was he ever happy. Sure there were fleeting moments of enjoyment to be had, even with the heckling of his compatriot, L.B., at his side, but Tweeg had never in his life known what it was like to be truly happy, to have friends. L.B. was the closest Tweeg would ever have to a friend in his entire life, a sole companion to be there through thick and thin, and in the best and worst of times.

In hindsight, he finds that it was rather rude to intrude on L.B.'s honeymoon, as it was the first break he's had from Tweeg in many years, and the first time he and Buffy had the opportunity to be alone. He rises from the ground, brushing the dirt and bugs off his dusty violet robe as he marches in the direction of his tower. As he does, he turns to look back but a single time, in the direction of Gimmick's house. Tweeg continues to dwell on his own thoughts as he approaches his tower. As he ascends the mercilessly long stone stairway up to the front door, his calf muscles are killing him. Tweeg is a pretty lazy guy, and this is likely the most exercise in one day that he's had in many years.

As he reaches the front door, he remembers, the note, the accursed note nailed to his door from the wretched and haggish Mrs. Maggotheart. He snatches the note right off the door, leaving a tiny ripped piece of paper still nailed to it. The note reads as follows.

This property is hereby seized by the sole majority proprietor, Monsters And Villains Organization (M.A.V.O.) for the reasoning of resident Jack W. Tweeg's failure to pay an exorbitant amount of ten thousand gold coins in back taxes to one Mrs. Agadelia Maggotheart, tax collector representative of M.A.V.O. This seizure includes, but is not limited to: one large tower, one bed, one table, two chairs, any and all dishware, one sink, one bathroom and all included amenities within, and Mr. Tweeg's clothing and personal belongings. This repossession has been reviewed and approved by one Quellor, Supreme Oppressor and Founder of M.A.V.O. Mr. Tweeg is not permitted within one hundred yards of this tower until he has successfully paid ten thousand gold coins to Mrs. Maggotheart. Should Mr. Tweeg be found on the premises of this tower prior to the fulfillment of his debt, he will be charged with trespassing and sentenced to ten years in M.A.V.O. dungeon. All illegal actions performed by Mr. Tweeg are to be reported to Mrs. Maggotheart. Failure to do so will result in ten years in M.A.V.O. dungeon.

Signed

Mrs. Agadelia Maggotheart, Tax Collector Representative of M.A.V.O.

Quellor, Supreme Oppressor and Founder of M.A.V.O.

Tweeg grips the paper with intensity. He stares at it in ire as he crumples the paper into a tight ball and drops it off of the side of the stairway. He watches as the paper ball bounces off the rocks below as he sneers. As he leans over the railing, suddenly things become dark. A massive shadow overtakes him as a hideous troll bearing a club as big as Tweeg himself taps him on the shoulder with a finger the size of a brat.

Startled, Tweeg turns around immediately. He trembles with a look of pure terror in his eyes at the hulk of a monster before him. The monster leans into Tweeg, his Pickelhaube shining off the moonlight and hiding his dulled and bloodshot eyes. As he opens his mouth, three of the foulest assaults on the senses are unleashed. First is the putrid odor of his breath, a stench that could only be described as a burning and rotting carcass, second is the visual nightmare that is his horrid yellowed teeth, filled with maggots and disturbingly indeterminable food, and third is the sound of his voice, a bellow like that of a foghorn with excessive amounts of bass. As he speaks, Tweeg can feel the voice pounding on his ribcage like a drumbeat.

Monster: "Well, well, well, if it isn't Jack W. Tweeg. Littering, eh? You're not very smart. Are you, Jack?"

Tweeg: "Wh-wh-who are y-y-you?"

Monster: "You didn't answer my question."

Tweeg: "I, well, I—"

Monster: "Say it."

Tweeg: "I beg your pardon?"

The monster presses his bulbous nose right into Tweeg's forehead.

Monster: "Say 'I'm a stupid man and a dirty litterbug'."

His charcoal eyes drill into Tweeg in silence until he musters the courage to utter the terrible and demoralizing phrase.

Tweeg: "I'm a s-s-stupid man and a d-dirty litterbug."

The monster grins psychotically at Tweeg's undignified and mortified confession with pleasure as he pats the Troll/Grunge on the head with his fat palm, nearly breaking Tweeg's pencil neck in the process.

Monster: "That's a good boy. Now you're gonna go down there, and you're gonna find that paper ball, and you're gonna throw it in the trash."

Tweeg merely nods in agreement. He turns and walks down the stairs, the speed of his descent increasing in pace as the swollen legs of the creature behind him threateningly chase him down. He makes it to the bottom of the mountain accompanied by the behemoth of a monster. Tweeg peers in all directions as the monster behind him folds his arms into a knot and stares at him with immense displeasure and a disgusted sneer.

Monster: "The longer it takes you to find that ball, the angrier I'm gonna get."

Tweeg panics, and as he does so, his thoughts slip through his mouth, verbalizing a much-regretted statement.

Tweeg: "Keep your tunic on, fatso!"

Tweeg's eyes grow massive after realizing he just said that out loud. He turns around to find himself being stomped toward by the mountain of leather and flesh.

Monster: "What did you just say to me you little, green, spineless slug-of-a-man?"

He falls back on his rear end, shifting backward through the dirt away from his nemesis. Tweeg backs into a tree, cowering as the monster leans over. He covers his head and braces for a punishment that he hopes will be quickly executed... But then, silence.

Monster: "Ah, there it is."

Tweeg uncovers his head to see what the matter is only to retract back into his position once the creature before him reaches outward toward him.

Monster: "There's the paper ball. See?"

Tweeg: "Huh? So... all I have to do is throw it away... right?"

The monster throws his head back in a hearty guffaw, his hands on his round belly as Tweeg sits there looking around in all directions. The laughter proves to be contagious and he starts to laugh weakly along with the monster.

Monster: "I don't see any trash cans around here. Do you, Jack?"

Tweeg looks around stupidly as if he'd find one out in the middle of the forest or something. He is genuinely confused.

Tweeg: "No. No, I don't."

The monster leans into him with a devilish smile like a row of Swiss cheese. A bug crawls through a large hole in his tooth and between the crack of another as he goes to speak once again.

Monster: "Eat it."

Tweeg: "What?"

Monster: "Eat the paper ball, Jack."

Tweeg stares at the paper ball before reluctantly shoving it into his mouth. He chews on the bland, tasteless, balled-up parchment. His eyes water as he tries to chew it to just soft enough of a consistency to safely swallow before taking a large gulp. The monster watches with pleasure as the knot slides down into Tweeg's gullet. Tweeg opens his mouth, pointing inside it to prove to the beast that he did indeed commit the humiliating act in good faith. He speaks with his mouth open.

Tweeg: "See? I did it. Paper ball all gone."

The monster leans on his massive club as he gives a confirmatory nod.

Monster: "That you did."

Tweeg kneels before him, pleading.

Tweeg: "May I leave now? I promise, I won't go back to my tower for but a few seconds to grab some of my necessities and you'll never see me again."

The monster looks at him with supreme disinterest as he uses an entire stick as a toothpick. Mannerlessly, he speaks while continuing to dislodge food and fling it at Tweeg.

Monster: "Oh really? Where ya headed?"

Tweeg: "I was going to move back in with mother... at least until I found more suitable living conditions."

Monster: "Ah, yes, Eleanor. How's the old bat doing anyway?"

Tweeg shrugs with complete uncertainty.

Tweeg: "She's doing fine."

The monster finishes picking his teeth and twirls the stick towards Tweeg's head, it bounces off and Tweeg winces. The monster then looks at Tweeg with an expression of faux sorrow as he addresses the man he just spent the last 15 minutes bullying mercilessly.

Monster: "Aww, Jacky, why didn't you just say you needed some new living arrangements? You and I are pals, right? Tell ya what, as the beacon of generosity and mercy that I am, I'll do you a little favor and hook you up with some... 'living accommodations'. I hear the M.A.V.O. dungeon is just LOVELY this time of year, and think about it, no more pesky taxes! HA HA HA!"

While the monster is distracted, Tweeg makes a bolt for it. He sprints as fast as his worn legs will carry him as his adversary comes stampeding towards him and gaining at incredible speed. Tweeg weaves through the thick maze of trees as the monster steamrolls towards him, turning around to see him gaining, Tweeg looks forward once again only to be met head-on with a branch to the face. Tweeg falls to the ground, out like a light. The monster claims his bounty, the unconscious Tweeg, right off the ground, scooping him up and hauling him off effortlessly underarm as if he had weighed nothing.

Sometime later, Tweeg awakens in M.A.V.O. Headquarters. He is in a kneeling position before Quellor. The imposing figure of Quellor, shrouded in black, sits before him atop a grand throne. He stares at Tweeg from beneath his black cloak and horned cowl, the soul-less whites of his eyes squinting in disgust at the wretch brought before him as if someone had placed a pile of scat on the floor in front of him. He taps his long, clawed fingers together in contemplation as Tweeg snaps back into reality. The monster from before stands towering at his side. A commanding voice that combines both the booming presence of a god and the sinister tone of a devil echoes through the stone chamber and through the ears of all the monsters in the room. It is the voice of Quellor. He extends his claw outward.

Quellor: "Why have you brought this worthless creature before me?"

The monster looks straight into Quellor's eyes, as if trying to somehow match his level of evil. He continues to feign an affable nature and speak in an obnoxiously condescending manner.

Monster: "You see, I found Tweegy here snooping around your tower. Not only that, he committed the HEINOUS atrocity of littering on YOUR property! Needless to say, I made the filthy litterbug clean up his trash, but then I realized, poor ol' Jacky Poo has no home no more. I thought it would be MIGHTY generous to hook him up with a room in the dungeon."

Quellor contemplates.

Quellor: "I see."

Tweeg interrupts.

Tweeg: "Lord Quellor, your magnificently malicious, your delightfully dastardly, your—"

Quellor: "SILENCE!"

Quellor roars and it shakes the entire room, causing all of the monsters to flinch and cower. He digs trenches into the arm of his wooden throne with his claws he speaks to Tweeg in a purely loathsome tone.

Quellor: "Your pitiful, empty words of flattery do little to mask your contempt for me, Tweeg. Lest we forget the many times you've betrayed me."

He rises from his throne, descending the small stairway onto the floor and approaching Tweeg. Quellor wraps his claw around Tweeg's neck, purposefully digging into his skin as he forces Tweeg into gazing into his eyes.

Quellor: "You're no more worthy of M.A.V.O. than the rats that crawl through these walls!"

He digs into Tweeg's neck for nearly 5 seconds before releasing him and turning around, leaving him with bleeding scratch marks along his face and neck. He raises his hand as he faces away, uttering in a harsh growl.

Quellor: "Remove him from my presence."

Tweeg stares at the ground in shame as he is taken, iron-bound, to the cellar dungeons by the large monster. An iron-gated door is opened, and Tweeg is tossed in on his face right onto the stone floor. The door is slammed and locked with a key. Tweeg is fully willing at this point to accept this as his fate. In his isolation, he thinks about L.B., his mother, his tower, and even Teddy Ruxpin. The proposition plays back over and over in his mind as he tries to sleep on the stone floor. He is silent, allowing the cool air from the barred window above to lull him to sleep.