And I thought that last chapter was long. L-O-L. I cut this chapter into three parts so it will be easier to come back to. Wow, I can't believe after 2 years of forgetting to update this story, it's finally come to its end. I'd like to thank my friends from tumblr for convincing me to continue (hi Jackie), you and everyone else who took the time to read this piece of crap and, lastly and most importantly, I'd like to thank the man himself. Thank you Jean Descole for everything you have done. The world would be less beautiful without you.


WARNING! THIS IS THE CHAPTER WITH THE AZRAN LEGACY SPOILER ENDING! IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED AZRAN LEGACY, PLEASE GO BACK TO CHAPTER EIGHT. HAVE A NICE DAY.


Part 1

Layton's Whereabouts, 1:32 PM

Puzzles are everywhere. They're in the sky and on the ground. You can find them in between sofa cushions and underneath toilet seats. You probably have a puzzle on your back right now and you don't even know it.

But there's only one man in the world that can truly see all of the puzzles, and he's currently locked up in a pet cage in someone's basement.

"You guys are seriously the least effective mafia ever," Layton complained from his cage. He wasn't feeling threatened or scared, but instead just bored and pissed off.

Stripped of his puzzles, he looked around the room and sighed at the lack of brainteasers. As of then, he could only wait for Descole's rescue.

Descole and Jonathan's Whereabouts, 1:32 PM

The universe is a sick fuck for placing the time machine on a cliff. Thankfully, parachutes exist, so the universe is temporarily forgiven.

"Weeeeeeeeeee! Weeeeeeeeeee!"

Everybody's favorite two-man team landed safely to the ground. Jonathan's horses were already waiting at the bottom.

Descole would have wondered why Jonathan never appeared to age, but at this point of the story (just like the author and the reader), he didn't care anymore.

"Oh shit, I left my big boy clothes in the time machine. Be right back."

Descole parachuted back up the cliff. Again, who cares anymore?

It was a relief to change into his clothes. He was beginning to get serious diaper rash. Once dressed, he jumped off the cliff and parachuted into Jonathan's carriage.

"Before we rescue your gentleman friend, we must make one very important stop."

"I don't care," Descole crossed his arms. "It-it's not like I want to save him or anything!"

Layton's Whereabouts 1:33 PM

There was another man caged up in the basement Layton was imprisoned in. Even if they were in the dark (which they wouldn't be, because the guard is afraid of the dark), Layton still would have been able to see the man's huge ass lips. It was his friendly bank clerk, Ramon. It seems that the mafia never let go of their witness. Who could blame them? He was a hoo-hoo-hoot!

"Pssst. Ramon. Do you have any puzzles?"

"I do! But señor, this cage prevents me from reaching across the room to hand them to you!"

"Shit!"

As for Luke, he was no longer being held hostage. He was dropped off safely at his parents' house because the guard could only stand listening to the Duck Tales theme song so many times.

Descole and Jonathan's Whereabouts, 3:00 PM

They parked the carriage in a cemetery. Descole recognized the area well. They were at the same cemetery his grandmother was buried in. He couldn't wait to find and disrespect her grave, but Jonathan kept reminding him of their very important stop.

One of the graves stood out among the others. There were no names or words on the stone, just numbers. This was in fact an address. Jonathan pushed the grave to the side. A hidden staircase revealed before them.

"So Pringles!" Descole declared excitedly.

The first thing Descole noticed when they walked down the steps was smoke, lots and lots of smoke. Whoever was down there was smoking up a storm. He hoped they'd see something really cool and illegal down there, but was disappointed when he saw it was just some guy's underground bachelor pad.

"Can't you people knock?"

The graveyard mystery man turned off the TV and lit up a cigarette. The dude had zany hair.

"Master, I'd like you to meet somebody," Jonathan guided Descole inside.

"The name's Don Paolo," said the cigarette man.

"Why do you live here in this cemetery with all of these dead people?" Descole asked.

"Because I died inside a long time ago."

"…."

"…."

Don lit up a second cigarette. He was now smoking two cigarettes at once. It was awesome.

"Anyway, that little green-haired fellow you're traveling with wanted you and me to have a chat about that thing in your pants."

Descole pulled the Thomas toy out of his underwear. As much as he hated the damn thing and the shit storm it brew, he couldn't bear to get rid of it. It was, after all, his only way to operate the time machine again.

"I'm sure you've noticed that your time machine is broken. It has only two destinations, and both destinations alter your age. Do you want to know what's causing these problems?"

"Oh shit. This must be important. I'll listen."

Descole and Jonathan sat down Indian style and listened to the story Don Paolo had to tell.

Thirty-one years ago, a toy factory in London received a shipment of parts for what was going to be the hottest toy of the year. Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends was the biggest children's show on television at the time, and big children's shows mean big money. All other toys in the factory were put on hold during the Thomas hysteria.

A man by the name of Bob Paolo worked in the factory at the time. Mr. Paolo was an excellent toy tinkerer, and all of the other workers looked up to him. Rumors of promotion lingered around the factory, and none of the workers were jealous because they liked Mr. Paolo so much.

One Take Your Kid to Work Day, Bob brought his two year-old son, Don, to the factory. Everybody loved Don, until Don fucked everything up.

When Mr. Paolo wasn't looking, Don climbed onto one of the conveyor belts that moved the finished Thomas toys. Bob had no idea at the time that his son was actually a science baby, and any science baby would be upset to watch little trains all going down the same track. Don knew that real trains change tracks, so he modified the conveyor belt to split into two different directions. Some of the toys went down the usual path, but the ones that went down the new path met a disastrously destination.

Mr. Paolo watched in horror as the Thomas toys fell into a massive container of contaminated radioactive waste. All production was stopped to take care of the mess, but because Thomas and his friends look so alike, some of the contaminated toys were packaged by confused workers and ready for shipment.

Nobody looked up to Mr. Paolo after the incident. Told never to show his face at the factory again, he skipped town. Don never saw his father again.

"So let me get this straight," Descole interjected. "You're saying that this toy I have right here is radioactive, and that this is why my time machine doesn't work?"

Don scratched his head.

"Well yeah, I mean, I guess so. Maybe. Whatever."

"There's just one hole in your story, Don," Descole eyed Don suspiciously as he turned the toy over. "The bottom of this toy says it was made in China."

"China was the name of the factory."

"Oh…Remarkable! Don Paolo, you're a genius!"

The two scientists shook hands. It was a historical moment for science.

"You know, I see something in you," Don pointed at Descole. "Perhaps you're the one who can learn my trick."

"You mean like skateboards?"

"No, it's cooler than a skateboard. I'll be right back!"

Descole was thrilled to bits. What could be cooler than skateboards?!

He and Jonathan waited in the room for Don to come back. They thought they heard Don's footsteps coming from the kitchen, but an old woman walked into the room instead.

"OH SHIT! WE'RE IN GRANDMA'S GRAVE!" Descole shrieked.

The grown baby man cried when his grandmother's corpse ripped the remaining flesh off her face. Except it wasn't his grandmother's corpse – it was Don Paolo in a costume!

"Ha ha! Owned, sucker! This is my trick. I disguise myself as other people! Pretty cool, huh? Here, you give it a try."

Don threw the Grandma costume to Descole, but it proved unnecessary. All Descole had to do was remove his hat, cover it with his face and voila! He had disguised himself to look exactly like his dead grandmother, down to every last mole and wrinkle.

"HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!" Don gasped. "You didn't even use the costume!"

"I don't know, but it was pretty cool, right?"

"Actually it kind of makes me feel bad about myself."

This newly acquired skill was perfect for a villain like Descole. It would now be so much easier now to manipulate and fuck with people.

"I'm going to disguise myself as a delivery boy so that I can get all the free pizza in the world without ever going to jail."

"But Master," Jonathan reminded him, "we still need to save the gentleman!"

"God damn it, Jonathan! Why do you always ruin the fun, you fun ruiner?"

To return to his normal form, Descole pulled his hat from behind and put it back on. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but it didn't have to because it was cool.

He turned around to leave with Jonathan, but Don stopped them with a psst-block.

"Psst. Can I come with you guys?"

Descole shook his head. "Donny, two's great, but three's a crowd."

"Nah," Don waved it off. "I've got nothing better to do today anyway."

And so Descole, Jonathan, and Don Paolo rode the carriage into the sun. Will they be able to save Layton from that dank basement? You'll find out if you keep reading.

Part 2

When the guard called for a nap break, Layton knew it was his best chance to escape. He began communicating with Ramon in morse code to devise a plan.

"Ramon, I have a plan."

"No hablo Inglés."

"Fuck!"

Without Ramon's cooperation, they were back to square one. Layton came up with a puzzle in his head about squares and ones, but puzzles suck when you already know the answer.

"This sucks! Descole's never going to come!"

Actually, Descole was waiting outside of the base in the carriage. Hooray!

"Jonathan, are you serious?" Descole whispered while looking through binoculars. "This doesn't seem criminal at all. It's just somebody's house on a normal street. Look, someone's daughter is coming home from school. Jesus Christ."

"I'd put those binoculars down if I were you," Don suggested. "Have you ever seen To Catch a Predator?"

"Okay, I'm going in," Descole announced to the team. He put the binoculars down and climbed out the window.

"Master! Do you have a plan?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't, but maybe one will come to me."

Descole swiftly walked to the house's front door. He was a disguise artist now, so he had to act as unsuspicious as possible. He rang the doorbell and waited.

Down in the basement, the sound of the doorbell woke up the sleeping guard.

"YAWN! What did I miss?" the guard asked himself, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

Layton wanted to be funny and say the circus had come to the basement, but his attention was more focused on who was at the front door.

Layton thought, if it's not Descole, I will eat my own fucking eyeballs.

The guard got up and put on his coat.

"I'm going to the gas station. You want anything?" he asked the prisoners.

"Yeah," answered Layton. "Get me a cup of Earl Grey."

"Earl Grey it is. I'll be right back…Hey, was that chair always there?"

A normal looking wooden chair appeared in the middle of the room. It was definitely not there before.

"It's probably just some paranormal shit," Layton verified. "Has anybody died in this basement?"

"The cat died in the radiator a year ago."

The chair giggled.

"Okay, that was weird," Layton said.

To get a closer look, the guard crept up on the chair. If you've never seen somebody creep up on a chair before, it's pretty ridiculous.

Just before the guard could touch it, the chair transformed into JEAN DESCOLE right in front of their very eyes!

"Aloha, motherfuckers."

Descole pulled a tape recorder out of his pocket and played his new theme music.

"Are you fucking serious?" Layton scoffed. "You have the ability to disguise yourself as anybody in the world, and you choose to be a chair. Break me up a piece of that fucking Kit-Kat bar, Descole."

"Did you bring the money?" the guard asked Descole. He couldn't wait for his shift to be over.

"Yeah, I got your money right here."

He reached into his pocket, grabbed a handful of pocket sand and blew it into the guard's face.

"OW! THAT WASN'T MONEY! I'M CALLING THE BOSS!"

"Oh no you aren't!"

Descole spun around with his leg out and kicked the iPhone out of the guard's hands. The phone landed to the floor and shattered to a million pieces. (This paragraph is not a paid advertisement from the Apple company.) Next, he grabbed the sandy face guard and shoved him into the spare cage that once imprisoned smelly Luke and locked the door.

"Rest in peace, bitch," Descole smiled.

Ramon was the first to be freed from his cage.

"Yahoooooo!" the bank clerk celebrated and performed cartwheels around the room. "You can rob our bank anytime!"

"Layton," Descole spoke with a stern voice as he neared the second cage. "If I let you out, will you rip off my balls?"

"Nah. I had a lot of time to think when I've been in this cage and I realized I would have done the same thing if I was a science baby. That nursery sucked. I don't even like Thomas the Tank Engine anyway.

Layton was freed, and his lips locked with Descole's in a sexy kiss. Ramon was still doing cartwheels around the room.

"Oh, Descole," Layton moaned. "You're so dangerous and evil!"

"As much as I'd love to revel about myself, we have to get going now. Jonathan promised we could have an ice cream party if I saved you."

"I can't wait to make out with you with ice cream on your face, and maybe I can rub some on your private parts as well."

Layton was back to his normal creepy self and all was right for the world. For now.

The two reunited lover dudes rushed to the door with Ramon doing cartwheels behind them.

"All we have to do to open the door is turn the door knob," Descole demonstrated…but the door wouldn't open.

"It's locked from the inside!" he gasped.

"I didn't even know that," the guard said from his cage.

"Descole," Layton shook his head, "how did you even get down here in the first place – Hmm…"

"What is it, Hershel? I order you to speak!" Descole commanded.

"There's a puzzle here. We have to solve it to unlock the door. Good thing I'm a puzzle expert," Layton laughed. "I've probably solved this before…Oh shit."

It looked like Layton had just seen a ghost, but it wasn't the cat that died in the radiator.

"Spit it out with your saliva, Hershel! What is it?!"

Layton took ten deep breaths.

"It's A Duck of Tiles."

"What the hell is taking them so long?" Don complained. "The ice cream's starting to melt!"

"Patience, Sir Paolo," Jonathan shushed. "Have faith in my master. He may appear frail and nimble like a wounded kitten, but he killed a dinosaur once."

The object of A Duck of Tiles is to create the image of a duck by overlapping a limited amount o colored tiles. The tiles cannot be interfered with in anyway. Not a single human being in the world has ever solved A Duck of Tiles. It was almost impossible, but, just like Layton told Descole after they slept with each other, there is no puzzle without a solution.

Sweat dripped down Layton's face and mullet. It was the first time in the history of the planet that the great Professor Layton needed to use a hint coin.

"Descole, reach into my buttocks and grab me a hint coin, why won't you?"

Descole obliged and stuck his hand into Layton's butt pocket. He read the first hint out loud.

"The shape you are trying to create is a duck."

"Well, no shit. That's why it's called A Duck of Tiles," Layton sneered. "Okay, what's the second hint?"

"Umm…You must solve the puzzle."

"Hint three?"

"You will never get this."

Only two hint coins remained in Descole's palms.

"All right," Layton sighed in obvious stress and pain. "Give me the super hint."

"Professor Layton is a nerd."

"AAAAARRRRGH! FUCK THIS DUCK!"

Layton had officially lost it. He picked up all of the tiles and threw them one by one at the door in a fit of rage.

"FUCK THIS TILE! FUCK THAT TILE! FUCK THIS TILE TOO!"

To watch a man break like that was too much for Descole's eyes, so he watched the door instead.

"Holy shit, Hershel. You just solved A Duck of Tiles!"

An image of an adorable yellow duck graced the door in front of them. Layton had overcome his feathered demon. The door unlocked.

"I better get in the newspaper for that shit," Layton mumbled as he opened the door.

As the escapees ran and cart wheeled up the basement steps, Descole reminded them of the game plan.

"Jonathan's carriage is waiting outside. We must hurry if do not want to be seen and also because the ice cream's going to melt."

Despite his ghastly freakish body, Ramon was able to make it out the front door unseen. Layton, however, pulled Descole aside into a bathroom.

"I want to make love to you one more time in this story."

"But the ice cream…"

"Would you rather have ice cream, or THIS?"

Layton removed all his clothing but his top hat in literally a second.

"Hotchy botchy," Descole growled and hopped in the shower with Layton.

They got it on to Beyonce's "Crazy In Love", but halfway through the song, Descole's tape recorder rewound on its own and began playing his theme song on loop for twenty minutes.

"Wow, Descole! That was amazing! Where did you learn to do that?"

"The Discovery Channel."

They got dressed, brushed their teeth, stole some condiments from the kitchen (Descole had never tried mustard chocolate ice cream before) and left walking hand in hand to the carriage.

The moment was a romantic one, and Descole couldn't believe how well everything turned out. His booty game was back on, and operation Save the Gentleman Without Paying the Ransom Fee was a success.

Then Don Paolo fucked everything up again.

"Hey! That's the son of a bitch who stole my girlfriend!"

"Uh oh," said Layton.

Don got out of the carriage and stomped up the Layton. His sleeves were rolled, revealing a tattoo that said "I heart Claire" on one arm and "I will never forget when Hershel Layton stole my girlfriend" on the other.

"Save me, Descole!" Layton shrieked and hid behind his man for protection.

Descole didn't want to get hurt so he hid behind Layton.

POW!

Don's fist met Layton's teeth for the first time, and it wasn't a very pretty meeting. Descole just stood there, shrugging and mouthing the words, "did you get mint chocolate chip?" to Jonathan.

"It's not my fault that you couldn't satisfy your girl," Layton wiped the blood from his mouth.

"WHY YOU LITTLE BITCH!"

The angry boyfriend fight raged on, and it created quite a ruckus. The commotion caught the attention of everyone hanging out at the mafia base, and they came storming out of the house with guns and other various weapons.

"Now look at what you guys done!" Descole scolded. "You heterosexuals ruin everything!"

Very soon Descole and his friends were surrounded by the henchmen. The one with the biggest gun did the talking.

"You fuckers probably thought you could get away with this. I can't wait to serve your heads on a platter to our boss."

"Oh yeah? Well serve THIS!"

Descole jumped in the air and kicked the henchman's head off. This badassery initiated the hardcore, action packed fight sequence that will be described in the next few paragraphs.

First, Descole dodged gunshot after gunshot by flipping around the lawn with his gymnastic cat like abilities. He was mostly just showing off, but every now and then he'd mess up and kill someone by landing on top of them.

Taking the three things he loved most beside Descole's hot body (puzzles, rocks and tea) Layton devised a deadly method. He offered puzzle at the top of his head to some of the cronies. When they were deep in thought, he picked up a rock and hit them all over the head. For added insult, he poured scalding hot tea over their faces. He also found some razor sharp puzzles on the ground and threw them like ninja stars.

Don's plan was simple, but very effective. He lit up a cigarette and blew smoke into the faces of the mobsters. Some of them couldn't see, and some of them died from secondhand smoke.

Cats, puzzles and cigarettes were nice, but with it came to Ramon, he preferred using his fists. Not only did he have fists made of steel, but his arms were so long that he could punch everyone without even having to get out of the carriage.

Also fighting from the carriage was Jonathan with his many guns. He saved Descole's stupid ass several times: once when a katana wielding gangster snuck up behind Descole when he was looking at a squirrel, and another time when he was tying his shoes.

Even Jonathan's horses, Prancer and Necromancer, got in on the action. It was fucking awesome because the horses were shooting guns.

It was a miracle that none of our protagonists were hurt, but sometimes miracles don't actually happen.

The last standing henchman shot a bullet straight to Jonathan's chest.

"JONATHAN! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Descole yelled and ran in slowmo.

The others took care of the shooter as Descole cradled Jonathan in his arms.

"Please don't die, Jonathan! You're my only butler!"

"I won't die if you take me to the hospital," Jonathan whispered, blood trickling down his suit and his beard.

Descole took note of the sparkly, glittery shine to Jonathan's blood, but now was not the time to ask him if he had been eating glitter glue. Besides, the doctors would be able to find that out anyway.

"Guys, get in the carriage! We must take Jonathan to the hospital A.S.S.!"

They hauled ass to the nearest hospital in London, but because nobody else knew how to drive a carriage, Jonathan took control of the wheel.

"Hey guys," Don said, "check this out. I've always wanted to be a tour guide."

Don grabbed an imaginary microphone and began the tour.

"And to our right is the Elizabeth Tower, housing the most famous bell in the world, Big Ben! The monument was erected in –"

Everyone in the carriage but Don started laughing hysterically after he said "erected." Even though Jonathan was bleeding externally, the mood was bright.

They almost reached the end of the bridge when a black limousine blocked the way in front of them. The fat man, the main villain of this story that isn't Descole, stepped out of his limo.

"It's a pleasure to see you without our money again, Jean Descole."

"What's going on?" Layton squirmed in his seat. "Ramon's lips are blocking my view. Why did we stop?"

"Because the mafia is being a dick again," Descole sighed. "Don, may I borrow your imaginary microphone for a moment?"

"Yeah, but be careful with it," Don warned as he very gently passed the microphone to Descole.

With Don's microphone equipped, Descole was going to give his enemies a piece of his mind. He got out of the carriage and delivered the most beautiful speech anybody has ever heard.

"Mic check, mic check. You know my name, but you don't know my story."

He smiled to himself at how genuine and clever he was.

"I've been through a lot of shit these pasty thirty years and three days, and I'm not talking about that crap Necromancer just made as I was speaking. If I had been through that, my shoes would have been brown. Let's talk about my shoes for a second. These are designer shoes you'll never afford. I'm going to let you walk in my shoes for a minute, but only metaphorically. I'll spray your eyeballs with a hose if you come any closer to my real shoes.

I, the great Jean Descole, have been through Hell and back. I've survived a 5,000 foot fall. I've murdered a dinosaur. I had sex with somebody I knew as a baby for most of my life."

"Wait, how does that constitute as going through Hell-"

"Shut up, Hershel. You're ruining my speech.

Layton frowned and looked at the reader. (That's you!)

"Any god damn way," Descole went on, "I also had to babysit a child. If there's anybody in the world who deserves respect, it's me. And what do you insignificant bastards do? You destroy my castle. You throw rocks at me. You kidnap my ho, and now you're blocking the way to the hospital when my butler's clearly about to die. Why are you making things worse? It's like coming home from school with a bad report card only to have a bird poop on it too. That's what the mafia is – bird poop.

"And what the fuck are you guys doing robbing banks anyway? You're the mafia. Shouldn't you guys be doing cooler mafia things, like playing cards and rolling people up in carpets? No, you go around chasing a twink like me because I hurt your stupid feelings. Get real.

"Long story short, I'm Jean the fuck Descole, and you don't tell me what to do. You want my money? Look up my ass. It's not in there, but now that I've mentioned it you're going to look anyway just to be sure. And that, my friends, is why you are my bitch. Now move, bitch."

Descole took a long bow. If every other passenger on the bridge hadn't turned around to find a detour, they would have all clapped and cheered for him, for at this moment he was a winner.

"Before I check your asshole, there's one thing you need to know about that carriage," said the burn recovering boss.

"Um, it's awesome?"

"No. When you were battling my men in front of our secret base, one of my guys was able to stick a GPS tracker to the back of you carriage, which is how I found you."

"Hip hip for fucking hooray," Descole clapped.

"Not only is there a GPS tracker behind there, but a bomb too. That bomb goes off in three minutes."

Jonathan, Layton, Don and Ramon all got out of the carriage, and the horses were untied for their own safety. (The horses always respond to Jonathan's whistling, so letting them freely roam around the streets of London was no big deal.) They waited for the next three minutes.

Descole's eyes opened wide.

"Shit we forgot the ice -"

KABOOM!

Multi flavors of ice cream splattered onto everyone's faces. It was delicious, but a tragedy. Descole cried.

The boss wiped the ice cream off his face with a handkerchief. His eyebrows creased and he wore a nasty frown that replaced his cool mafia demeanor with I-hate-this-French-guy fever.

"WHY WON'T YOU DIE, JEAN DESCOLE?!"

"Ha ha ha! You can't kill me. I'm God."

"No matter," the boss regained his cool. "If I can't kill you, my new assassins will. BORG? SUSAN? GET OUT HERE."

Two giant red lobsters in tuxedos climbed out of the limousine. Descole ran to the edge of the bridge and puked his brains out into the great River Thames.

"Descole, they're only costumes," Layton reassured his man. He began to rub Descole on the back, non-sexually.

"M..memories…"

"Memories of what, Descole? Just speak without vomiting for one second."

"Thirty years ago, my parents brought me to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for supper. We entered the sea food aisle, and that's when I saw those things for the first time.

"I wasn't afraid of them then. I pressed my face against the glass tank and laughed at the things. Their pincers were tied in rubber bands, so I wiggled my fingers around just to mock them. They were hopeless, and it made me sick. They were the prey and I was the hunter. I couldn't wait to eat one for supper.

"By the time we returned home, it was already my naptime. My parents put me in my crib and left to put away the groceries. I fell asleep peacefully like a b.a.m.f., but when I opened my eyes…"

He hurled.

"The thing was in my crib!"

"Maybe we can get you to see a therapist," Layton suggested. "I started seeing one when I believed everyone in this one town were robots. Her name is Granny Rid- OW!"

One of the lobster assassins pinched Layton in the ass.

"OH MY GOD THEY KILLED HERSHEL!" Descole screamed and tried to jump off the bridge. (Layton was still alive; he just had a very sore bottom.)

The assassin named Borg pinched Descole by the cloak and slammed him face first into the ground. Susan got on top of Descole and started pinching him in different parts of his body.

Even though he was a man now, the baby inside Descole (but not in a pregnant way) never left him.

"IT HURTS! IT HURTS! WAAAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Get a hold of yourself, Descole," Layton said with his hand on his butt. "Think, what else happened that night with the lobster – I mean the thing?"

"I cried and I cried and then my dad picked up the thing and he…he threw it into a pot of boiling water!"

A-ha!

Descole kicked Susan in her lobster face and was able to get back on his two feet. He took off his hat, covered it with his face and transformed into a chef.

"Hon hon hon!"

He splashed the lobster people with a pot of really hot water and watched as they shriveled to the ground and cooked. Dinner was served.

"Bon appétit," Descole said and rubbed his thumb with his index finger like all real chefs do before turning back into normal Descole.

"Hey, I taught him that!" Don called out from the sideline.

Between the fact that Descole could not die and the realization that chasing after him for the past three days was proving to be a waste of time, the boss was enraged. He ran at Descole, shouting, "LAAAAAAYTOOOOON!"

Everybody laughed because the boss had confused Descole and Layton's names, but then no one was laughing when he held a gun to Descole's face.

"Tell me where the fucking money is or I'll shoot your pretty European face into smithereens!"

The game was up, except actually it was not.

Descole stared dead cold into the man's eyes and whispered,

"France is superior to Italy."

The boss's finger was thiiiiiiiis close to fully pulling the trigger when his and everyone else's attention was distracted elsewhere.

"Yoo hoo!" Ramon peeped. "I forgot to show everyone this flute I found in the bank!"

He brought the flute to his lips (or more so the lips brought the flute to it) and he began to play the tune to "YMCA."

The ground shook and rumbled.

"Now look," Descole said to the boss. "Yo mama's so fat, the bridge is falling apart."

But the rumbling had nothing to do with the boss's mama, and it wasn't collapsing. Something big was coming their way.

A prehistoric roar shook the earth and the nerves of all who heard it. Previously thought of as dead, Loosha the beast had been summoned by the flute.

"Baise-moi," uttered Descole.

The beast slammed the limousine in half with its giant blubbery fins. Retiring from his line of work, the limo driver screamed and ran home.

This day kept getting worse and worse. Loosha's adorable but killer beady eyes recognized Descole.

"PPPWWWWYYYYEEEEH!"

She rampaged across to bridge to finish the job she was meant to do – kill the Jean Descole.

Not fair I was going to kill him first were the last words spoken by the mafia boss before being swallowed whole by the beast. Nothing could stand between Loosha and her prey.

"Oooooh my God. Ooooooh my God," Descole wheezed as he jogged in circles, Loosha on his tail. "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry for being such a shit my whole life. It's your fault I was born perfect."

Loosha bit Descole's cloak and it was just about then when Descole realized that maybe the cloak was a bit too much for his outfit. She spun him around in the air so fast that all anybody could make out of Descole were blurry animation smears.

"Master!" Jonathan called out, still dying. "Come over here! I have a gift I must pass down unto thee."
"Sure, Jonathan. Let me just politely ask the nice dinosaur if it can put me down."

The always convenient or inconvenient timing of Ramon's actions took play in the situation once again, this time being very convenient. He finished his bottle of Yoo-hoo and tossed it to the ground. Loosha happened to step on top of the shattered pieces of glass. She released Descole's cloak from her grasp when she howled in pain, giving Descole the chance to run over to Jonathan.

"Okay Jonathan, what is it? Jesus Christ, you're bleeding like a turkey."

Jonathan had no idea what that meant, but he passed a long and beautiful sword to Descole. The sword was very sharp and very long, with a black grip and a shiny red bead SuperGlued to its golden guard.

"Cool sword!" Descole gasped. "This is like, one million times Pringles!"

"You've earned it, Master. This sword symbolizes the three important elements – power, wisdom and courage."

"Isn't that the Triforce?"

"No, Master. The Triforce isn't real. Only those who have proved to bear these tree traits can wield the sword. You've displayed tremendous courage today as you rescued your gentleman, faced your fear of lobsters and mocked a man's home country as he held a gun to your face. Your haughty and smug attitude you have over people proves your power, and for wisdom you…Well, I haven't really thought about the wisdom part yet, but I know you can wield this sword!"

"Wow, thanks, Jonathan! I have so many questions to ask you, but first I must take care of business. I'm going to murder Loosha."

He hopped away with the sword in his hand and confronted the blue beast. This shit was getting so real.

"I'm sorry things had to happen like this between us, but then again I'm not sorry because I hate you."

Loosha ferociously roared in Descole's face, but he did not budge. He took his mask off briefly to show Loosha how much he meant business, and oh my God did he mean business.

Before Loosha could make one last pwwyeh noise, Descole jumped into the air and hacked the monster into tiny bits and pieces.

"Who wants sushi?" Descole grinned.

Nobody gave a shit about how cheesy that line was because what Descole just did was the coolest thing anybody has ever done in this world. Move over, Jesus.

"Jean Descole!" Layton swooned and jumped into his man's arms. "You're a hero!"

"Actually, I still want to be a villain."

"Okay, fine, you're a villain. Hooray!"

They kissed in the sunset and everybody cried at how beautiful the moment was.

"I don't even care anymore that Layton stole my girlfriend," Don sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"So now that the mafia's dead, what are you going to do with the money, Descole?" Layton asked kind of gold diggerishly.

"Hmm…I know just the thing," Descole smiled.

"PIZZA ICE CREAM SOCIAL HOSPITAL PARTY!"

What better way to spend millions of stolen money than buying endless amounts of pizza and ice cream? All of our protagonists (Descole, Layton, Don, Ramon, Luke, Clark and Brenda) partied and ice creamed it up in Jonathan's hospital room.

Coincidentally, the evil nursery woman had just recently broken her hip was right next door. Descole managed to climb through the window and lock the door from the inside so none of the doctors or nurses could get in. Even if he wasn't a villain, he would have done it anyway.

"Wow, this party's awesome!" squealed a girl with an adorable ponytail.

"Who the hell are you?" Layton asked the girl.

"I'm your adopted daughter, Flora. I've been with you this entire story, but you never even noticed me."

"Great, you've seen me butt naked with a dick in me. Go get some ice cream, Flowers."

Nobody saw Flora again after that.

Layton turned around and looked at Descole with sad, sad beautiful eyes. Those eyes made Descole want to cry and squeeze a puppy so that the puppy would never grow.

"Descole, must you really go?"

"Yes. In order for the series to make even the slightest amount of sense, I must return to the beginning of it all."

"Will you return my Thomas toy?"

"Probably not, but I will try to bang you again."

Descole grabbed Layton's hands with his hands. It was called holding hands.

"Layton, I want you to move on. I want you to meet a beautiful woman that resembles me, and I want you to have babies. I want you to have at least fifty babies, and I want all of them named after me."

"I promise to have fifty babies," Layton cried and kissed Descole goodbye.

Before he left for good, Descole walked over to Jonathan's bed. Unbeknownst to the others, Descole actually used the rest of his stolen money to buy not only one but TWO new carriages and a real house for Jonathan. No more of that tree house bullshit. Jonathan was family to him, and the only person in the world beside himself that Descole respected.

"Jonathan, you must tell me what the fuck is going on. Who are you really?"

"Laddie," the old man spoke softly and angelically, "you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Master – nay – Descole, I am your….fairy godfather."

"COOL!" Descole jumped and high-fived the air.

"I was chosen by the heavens to protect and watch over you. I was there when you nearly plunged to your death, and I was there to entrust you the holy sword that you now call D Slicer. I've always been protecting you, but the gods told me you were a tough case and that I needed to disable my invisibility powers in order to help you. I can also time travel, fly, bleed glitter, and I never age."

"Wow! What a convenient way to cover every plot hole!"

"I also have the ability to heal myself. Look –my wound is completely gone!"

Descole made a comment about not paying the hospital bill and got up to leave.

"Master," Jonathan spoke. "I'm very proud of you. I'll always be with you."

I'm not crying, I'm not crying is all Descole could mutter as he put on his cloak and his boa. He grabbed one last ice cream cone to go and said his final goodbye to his friends, tears and snot dripping from his face.

"I, the great villain and scientist, Jean Descole, am leaving now. Never forget my name. In fact, here's a Sharpie so you can all write it permanently on the back of each other's heads. Farewell. I'll meet you all again in another time"

With that, the great Jean Descole made his exit down the hall.

"WAAAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAAAAH!"

A newborn baby was crying in his mother's hospital room.

"Somebody shut that baby up!" a man yelled.

That man was Jean Descole.

"Master?" Jonathan called out from his room.

"Yes, Jonathan?"

"I forgot to tell you that you and Professor Layton are brothers."

Descole dropped his ice cream cone.

"What?"

THE END