"How'd it go Neapolitan?"
"It's Mutant now," I simply say and take a seat across from Clark. He gives me this really angry look.
"Mutant? That's the name they gave you?" I shrugged.
"You can't deny that it doesn't fit." It was true; I was a mutant. I didn't belong in Jamaa, nor did Clark. Or Sir Astro. Or Professor Wiggle. We were all supposed to be in Toontown; I was supposed to be killing cogs right now instead of mining for gems.
"I wonder how Toontown is doing," I say to break the silence. Clark smirks.
"It's probably overrun by cogs. Those 'Club Penguin' people have no idea what they're doing. I bet Donald's Dock is infested with Cog Buildings."
I didn't think about that. Toontown was probably Cogtown now, and I bet those elite members of Club Penguin were scared out of their minds. Now that I think about it, if we do return to Toontown, things would never be the same.
For one, we would have to clear all of the streets again. That was assuming we reclaimed our original land. If we chose a new place, then we wouldn't fight cogs. The rest of us would have no idea what to do all day.
The rest of us…
Who all was left? I wasn't sure about anyone except Clark. Jesse might still be alive, but that was unlikely… The same goes for Sir Astro. I don't think there would be any reason to kill Professor Wiggle; he's only giving to the community. Or at least I hope so. Knowing him, he's probably lecturing the kids on how screwed up Jamaa is.
"So what's your plan Neapolitan?"
"It's Mutant-" I corrected him"-and I don't have a plan. Everybody keeps asking me, but I really don't know."
"You're seriously going to go by Mutant?" Clark asks me, completely ignoring the whole plan thing.
"Clark, we already discussed this. Besides, Mutant is my name now, right? I can't change that. And, it is kind of fitting. Who knows, I might change it when we make a new Toontown or whatever. I highly doubt that, though."
Clark stands up.
"Fine. You can play by all of the rules, but I'm not going to. I'm not going to become a robot."
Over the next few weeks I thought about what Clark said. It didn't get to me that much; maybe it would've last year, but I was tougher now. I'm more apathetic.
Clark angrily picked away at some rocks in a corner.
"You're going to cause an accident," I say, because he kept going higher and higher and we were already so low.
This doesn't matter, though, because he keeps hitting it over and over again.
"Clark! Stop!" I yell, and by now I've stopped picking myself.
He hits it one more time and there's this huge cracking sound; like the whole place is going to collapse. He doesn't care, though, and just keeps on destroying it. I run up to him and try to take his pickaxe away… But Clark is pretty strong. Way stronger than me.
So, after another few seconds and a few million rock particles fall down, I know for sure that he's going to be the only survivor.