[The following entries contain the unedited writings of Mezil Thyme about his adventure in the town called Ebott's Wake.]

Entry 0
Papyrus exists in this world. Meet him ASAP.

Entry 1, 1103H

Notebook and pen, obtained. Papyrus is helpful, as expected. I can now write my thoughts proper.

Some recollections are due. First, whoever wrote that miserable note had set me up to be a fool. It's not 'waypoint'. It's 'waystation'. And this town has eighteen of them!

Hmph. I don't want to meet the prankster who tossed me into the wilderness on a whim anyway. If that stranger expected me to appear before them, they should have given better instructions.

I could buy a notebook, but this debit card might be a trap: stolen, or linked to fraud. I better not use the contents, lest I get in trouble with the local authorities. I instead entrusted it to Papyrus' hands.

It appears that the current date is July 1, Year 2020. Which explains why the weather almost murdered me on the way to town. Ugh. My clothes are not Summer-friendly.

I hope to not miss my birthday. I'm overdue for a joint celebration with Lucidia.

Entry 2, July 1. 1500H

Papyrus being Papyrus, cooked spaghetti for lunch. Thankfully delicious. I learned that he's a popular blogger and monster ambassador in this timeline. Good for him.

Hmm. Papyrus as an ambassador's aide… I suppose there are some constants across the realms.

Once we finished our meal, he showed me the town of Ebott's Wake. A more creative name than the humble 'Ebott Town'.

I was then introduced to this fellow named 'Hal'.

A jester type. Can't say I'm pleased. Always had terrible luck with those. His behaviour puts me on guard.

Hal tried to convert me into an aficionado of this 'Rick Roll' meme. Why is it such a big deal anyway? It's just another cheesy love song. I just don't get its appeal at all. The tune isn't even good.

The earworm factor? Play any song enough times and it becomes an earworm. Certainly not what I need. Or want.

Entry 3, July 1. 2100H

Not even twenty-four hours and my reputation as an 'adventure magnet' shows. Sigh.

I just had to walk into the wrong store, at the wrong time, and at the wrong entrance. Some scoundrel tried to rob petty change from the counter. My sudden presence caused a surprise that made the criminal judge poorly.

I reacted upon muscle memory and knocked the bugger to the ground, using a Mark to disturb my target's balance. I had kept this power hidden under my hand. It's unwise to show more than I already have.

I suspect that sharper eyes have already noticed that I'm more than just a grey-haired gentleman.

Entry 4, July 1. 2200H

Roll On Inn. Recommended by Papyrus himself. I can see why: it's the go-to place for other dimensional travellers. He's also kind enough to foot the bill for tonight.

The rifts opened up some years ago, so said testimony. As a result, people from all manners of timelines are welcomed on this soil.

There's a beat-up hoverbike from the far future next to a pristine 20th century roadster: parked side by side. This is the stuff from movies. At least I don't look too out of place.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm ready to get a much needed shower and sleep.

Sleep. At this hour. When was the last time I did that?

Where in the world am I anyway? 'United States of America'? That doesn't tell me enough. Is this Central? Far West? Far East? What's the geographical layout of this world?

How much time had passed in my timeline? Does time-dilation take effect? I hope it's not long. Otherwise, Lucidia will get stressed beyond belief. The last time I vanished without a word, I… suffered a permanent scar.

Lucidia, I'll get back to you. Promise.

Entry 5, July 2. 0630

Papyrus showed up at the inn at the earliest opportunity. I'm writing this event down right before his being, notebook and all.

It must be the waking mental haze. I have no other explanations for being this obvious.

Nevertheless, he became curious. This Papyrus struck me as quite similar as the one back home. A trusted figure. So, I offered him to have a gander to read my comments.

He was quite amused. Also flattered by my high esteem about his person. Although, he thought that I was being too harsh on Hal. Hmph. We'll see about that.

Papyrus had expressed eager anticipation to read my future entries. I'll accept that. He could help correct any errors of understanding as well.

The debit card turns out to be stolen material after all. It was safely returned to its proper owner. As a reward for my honesty, Papyrus offered to be a walking wallet.

Though grateful, I wonder how many out there have taken advantage of his good heart. I trust that Papyrus has the wisdom to see the more obvious attempts. But, there are always those who're more subtle: unintentional or otherwise.

Heh. I just got chided for my cynicism.

Entry 6, July 2. 0730H

All is fine in All Fine Labs.

At least, I hope that's the case. Goodness gracious, there's a long queue right in the dead of morning!

Misplaced travellers of all shapes and eras waited in line for their first steps towards home. It looks like something straight out of a cosplay event, except every article was not a clever prop.

Makes me wonder… is this all the work of one prankster? A group of them? Perhaps a syndicate took advantage of the tears in spacetime to parasite this town for money?

Hmm. Perhaps 'parasite' isn't the right word. The town did prosper well from the rise of tourism. A 'questionable symbiote' may be a more accurate description.

Entry 7, July 2. 1100H

Finally. That took forever. My data is being processed as I write this entry down.

More reasons why I wish Lucidia could join my adventure. This place is filled with all sorts of things that would interest her. Or infuriate, depending on the application.

All Fine Labs developed a method to deal with the constant flow of lost souls. The first step involves standard number-taking procedures. Approach a machine, press a button, and take the printed slip. Then wait until the gigantic screen displays the right code. It's reminiscent of old school banks.

I suspect there are illiterate visitors in the midst. It could either be a language barrier or a simple lack of education. Some expressed fascination, though others scratched their heads (or the equivalent expression).

For example, I don't expect that fellow in ancient desert clothing to share the same numerical code as this era. They kept looking at the screen to make sure they didn't miss anything.

Personnel attended to the confused: linguists and interpreters. It appears that All Fine Labs had that problem solved.

When my turn arrived, the staff took me to a full-body scanning device. Technology here is comparable to Year 2070. Maybe more advanced in some ways.

Since I speak this land's common tongue, the assigned doctor discussed the results with me. I was fortunate enough to come from within the same 'Multiverse Sphere'. Therefore, establishing a phone-like contact shouldn't take long.

However, getting me home is a whole other matter. Even the closest dimensions require about a week to establish a stable portal.

A week from today, it will be past the birthday appointment. That irritated me more than being stuck in a foreign land. We finally had a breather and THIS nonsense happened!

I supplied the doctor with the necessary information to contact Lucidia. With my unexplained absence, she would be monitoring communication around the clock. Non-stop. Sleep would be the last thing on her mind. It's not healthy, but I know my wife.

Also, I expect her to yell at me for not contacting her sooner: a volcanic reaction of fear, worry, and lack of rest.

Then, it's back to waiting. I took the time to write this entry down. Once I'm done, Papyrus invited me to take a stroll to the gift shop.

Entry 8, July 2. 1111H

Do miniaturized magic reactors make good souvenirs?
Do they have the potential to outdo existing batteries?
Are they even safe?

I bought one for Lucidia to study. Hopefully, it's more than just a novelty.

Entry 9, July 2. 1130H

An officer by the name of Steve approached me. Yesterday's unfortunate arrested scoundrel confirmed my identity.

It turns out that my recent victim was another lost traveller. Instead of trying to find a way back home, he resorted to thievery. Perhaps life here as a vagrant was better than wherever he came from. A sad state of affairs if such was the case.

While a warden took the bloke to the doctors, Officer Steve had a few choice questions for me. Understandable. Not many 50-year-olds have the capacity to pin a youth to the ground.

Magic itself was nothing unusual in these parts. Ebott's Wake is full of monsters and plenty of otherworldly wizards pass by. It's the brand of magic that concerned Officer Steve the most.

Hmph. I had hoped to slip past without ever showing my 'true colours'. But, a controlled reveal of secrets is better than rampant suspicion.

As a symbol of goodwill, I decided to present my Mark.

Entry 10, July 2. 1245H

The brightest minds crowded around a glowing crimson butterfly: my Mark, and proof that I am a Living Victory.

It appears that in this world, the rule of magic is tied to the traveller. Other than the lack of SAVES, I have all access to my usual arsenal. Good news should my luck take a turn for the worst.

The buzz created enough attention to attract a familiar figure: Doctor W.D. Gaster. If there's a Papyrus, I suppose it's not too much of a stretch to find the other members of Team Ebott too.

…Except for the fact that this is not 'Doctor Gaster'. When I greeted him as such, his eyes bulged out with deep annoyance and anger. I've only ever seen this emotion when Sans Serif cracked a terrible pun before his brother.

This man is Doctor Aster. With an 'A'. Not a 'G'. He's also the skeleton brothers' father. Huh. What irony.

On request, I shared a sample of my Gaster's tales of notoriety:

Of how he encouraged war to King Asgore.
Of how he almost Amalgamated the whole of his nation to escape the Barrier.
Of how Sans Serif had to take drastic measures by dropping him into The Core.

That's sparing the more classified details. No one in this realm is privy to 'that' colossal incident.

Doctor Aster suffered a moment of existential crisis. It involved yelling about 'lemons', 'meeting life's manager', and 'why is everyme in the multiverse an asshat except me'. He proceeded to question his staff members whether or not he was an insufferable jerk.

…I didn't expect this to happen. An apology to Papyrus is long overdue.

Entry 11, July 2. 1330H

My entries have evolved from recollections of previous events to near-live records of the current happenings. It pays to have a fast hand.

At the moment of this writing, I had just finished lunch. Papyrus continued to accompany me. I'm eternally grateful for his presence. Navigating the town's zaniness would be boring otherwise. When the unusual becomes the norm, it's lost to the senses.

Doctor Aster appears to have a taste for melodrama. He hugged a glass of 'Cherry Kool Aid', lamenting to a colleague. Down the contents went. He grew so drunk that he fell out of his chair.

I questioned Papyrus about the cafeteria serving alcohol. He corrected me that it was soda.

His father. Getting drunk. On soda. I thought I had seen everything during my bartending days. No. That's a mistake. I shouldn't be getting surprised by anything anymore.

If I followed my emotions, I would have gone over and whacked him with my cane. Stop being such a public embarrassment in front of your son! Get a grip! Be a respectable man and father!

…But following that through would only hurt Papyrus. Thereby, I resisted the urge.