Fun fact: I Google'd to see if "scrumples" means anything, because I seriously thought it wasn't an actual word, and that it's something a non-English speaking person would come up with. I laughed and cried at the same time. That's what I get for taking my brother's advice when it comes to naming and not bothering to look it up.

So... yeah. That should give you some insight on the character, I guess ^^;.

Chapter Three: Little Changes

The light from the monitor slowly poured into the game world beyond the walls as the sunrise arrived. While the front of the Niceland Apartments building was lit up, the rest of the surrounding area remained in shadow, though the pin-points of light serving as stars dimmed down. Ralph was awake a good thirty minutes ahead of schedule, though he didn't exactly know why. He slept fine, from what he could remember, and there were no dreams that bothered him. Anything he may have felt from whatever dream he had slipped away into nothingness. Having chosen to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, the wrecker allowed his thoughts to wander.

Memories, old and new, marched in and out as he picked through them. If he stopped to hover on a memory such as with Vanellope on her silly days, participating in activities with the villains at Bad-Aon, or just having a chat with Felix (and sometimes Sergeant Calhoun) wherever they were at, he felt happiness swell in him. Such was the opposite when he thought back to when he broke the girl's heart, and carelessly abandoned the Nicelanders and Felix, nearly leaving themselves homeless. If they had indeed lost their home, it was guaranteed they would starve in the station like Q*bert and his fellow companions. And the little guys these days were thankful for everything that happened. It had been a long time since he saw them happy, and he wouldn't dare trade that for a silly medal.

Though if they had become homeless, would the Nicelanders have shown even less respect than before? Would the other characters have thought the same way? Q*bert was well-liked amongst the arcade, but no one knew what to do once his game was unplugged. They were only pitied by many. While he wasn't completely despised for being a villain, he would've been worse off. As much as he liked being alone, he never wanted to go unacknowledged. He would've liked for at least one person to have shown some form of sympathy for him.

The conflicting emotions were what got Ralph out of bed to get himself ready for work and push it all from mind. Pulling in his clothes from the line outside his window, he took a quick look at the apartment complex to catch a glimpse of Gene walking out and fixing his coat. While he never once saw him first thing when he woke up, judging from what he would do every night in leading Felix to the dock, he did the same thing every morning since Felix moved out of the apartment to live with Calhoun. It was a rather tedious routine, but no different from whenever Felix himself would come greet him in the morning and made sure he, Q*bert, and the others were up and ready.

Slipping into his clothes, Ralph stared at the spot on the dresser where many-an alarm clock had been accidentally broken. He was still finding little pieces around the floor, and even in his bed, all of which he expected weren't from a specific clock. He stopped asking Felix to fix it after the third time it broke, knowing it was useless. There had to be a possibility there was a stronger alarm clock he could use so he could stop relying on his neighbors to wake him up. Pausing at the entranceway, the man glanced into the mirror on the wall before he headed outside.

Walking around to the back of his house for the apple trees, Ralph let out a yawn. "Le'see... it's another week of Bad-Anon, ain't it?" he mumbled to himself, plucking a few ripe fruit from the branches. He stared blankly at the tree as he carefully backed away, trying not to look away. It was a silly thing, he admitted, but it always bothered him how every time the tree was out of sight, new fruit would grow back like nothing ever happened. It never surprised him that it would, the exact same thing happened in the forest he once lived in. He just never bothered looking into it.

Reaching the front door to Q*bert's house, he lightly tapped on the wood with his foot. Not a moment later did it open, and from the corner of his eye, he could see the top of the orange creature's head. He garbled out a greeting, with Ralph nodding in reply. "'Morning, buddy. Did you all sleep well?" The response was a small honk, bringing a grin to his face. Leaning down, he handed over half of the apples. "Eat it all up, fellas. I'll see you in the field." He then side-stepped away, still keeping the trees in view until his house threatened to block it, and he started backing up. Q*bert never once questioned his odd behavior in the mornings, so he figured he understood what it was all about.

Once he hit a brick wall, he leaned against it and bit into an apple, wiping the juices from his chin. A small movement caught his eye, bringing him to glance over to find a worm had popped out from the core. He let out a terrified yelp (though he could swear it let out a scream as well), threw it a long ways, and spat out what was still in his mouth. Now paranoid, he split the other apple in half, relaxing to find it was normal. Turning his attention back to the apple tree, he nearly threw down the two halves in frustration at the newly-grown fruit.

"Why does it keep doing that?!" he growled with a deep scowl, and jabbed his finger before him. "Just you wait, tree! I will witness your respawning!" Ralph did a double-take when he saw Mary standing at the corner, shooting him an odd look. He ineptly grinned, giving her a wave. "'Morning, Mary! I'm just doing my part in keeping the trees green and healthy! Have to talk to them every day, you know?" Nervously chuckling, he flicked both his fingers at the accursed tree, and power walked off to the dock, resuming eating his breakfast. Keeping his face to the front, he grumbled a "Why me" through his teeth.

He remained as such until the platform came to view. Standing directly beneath the clock, Gene looked over, a brow raised slightly. "That's the third time this week you threatened a tree," he stated. "And it's only Wednesday."

"I didn't threaten it," he countered, coming to a halt behind him. He flicked the seeds and stem into the shadows before throwing the rest of the half into his mouth.

"It's just a tree, Ralph. So it grows new apples when you look away, big deal. At least it doesn't take an entire day to grow new fruit."

He wasn't liking his tone of voice, but Ralph decided against arguing with him. "It does if you keep picking the apples all at once."

The mayor wrinkled his nose a little in a flustered manner. "Well, of course. Mary runs out of ingredients for her pies daily, so the trees here are convenient for her."

The wrecker nodded in agreement, finishing the rest of the apple and wiping his hands on his suspenders. He ignored Gene's look of disgust until after he swallowed and leaned against the pillar, folding his arms. "Felix is a little late, ain't he," he pointed out, gesturing to the clock above them.

Facing the front, the Nicelander nodded gruffly. "Must be some traffic in the station, or something."

The two stood there in silence, no more lines of dialogue spoken. Ralph didn't mind it, knowing it was less words to share between them. While he was on better terms with the mayor, it was apparent he still wasn't too fond of him despite his huge role in the game. As long as he wasn't calling him names, he shrugged it off easily.

From inside the tunnel, they could hear the echoes of wheels from the cart, and they stood at attention, watching as it came into view with Felix in the front seat. Normally, he called out to them before they got to see him, but judging from his goofy smile and glazed eyes, he was clearly spaced out. His face was covered with lipstick marks, so it wasn't a big mystery as to what happened to him. Ralph had coughed out his laughter while Gene straightened up and pretended they weren't there.

"Good morning, Mr. Fix-It!" he greeted him, hands grasping his jacket. "I take it your evening was pleasant?"

Felix stood up from the car at an angle and loosely raised his golden hammer, his expression unchanging, though his speech was slightly slurred. "G'day-all! T'day's gonna be a good 'un!" He chuckled for a long moment, cheeks glowing pink as he stepped out, and nearly lost his balance. He just nearly missed smacking himself with the hammer head when he gave a salute. "It's 'make the missus proud' time!" Then he started to quietly laugh, and slapped his knee.

"Yes, of course." Gene cleared his throat, and let out a sigh. "Well, let's finish the rest of the preparations, and then get into position. See you two in a few." Shooting Ralph a glance that told him "your turn", he walked off.

Rubbing the back of his head, the wrecker turned back to his giddy friend, whom was still giggling uncontrollably. Thinking through his responses, he picked one from the batch that was more normal to start. "I can see you're doing well."

Taking a couple of deep breaths, he nodded. "Uh huh!" A few snickers blew past his teeth, and he took off his cap to squeeze to his chest. "Tammy is still full of surprises, gee willikers!"

Ralph forced himself to nervously smile. "Thanks for the info... I guess..." The moment hearts started popping around Felix's head when he deeply sighed, he took a step back and clapped his hands together. "Okay, we're off to a good start! Hey, after work, let us go to Tapper's! My treat!"

"Sorry, Ralphie, I made plans tonight."

"I draw the line at 'Ralphie'."

The hero giggled, reaching out to pat his arm and missing. "Sorry 'bout that. Les' try tomorrow." Tipping his cap when he put it back on, he swayed the moment he started to walk off toward the apartment complex. It was incomprehensible at first, but it was apparent he was singing a ditty Ralph guessed was a song he and Calhoun must have listened to earlier.

Unsure what to do with him, he shrugged it off and followed after him, hands in his pockets.

"Someone smell funny."

"Sorry, Cyril," Zangief apologized, smiling nervously. "Couldn't shower immediately after work."

"At least be grateful he doesn't keep hair unshaved on his arms."

A chorus of "ooh"s went around the group when Zangief turned to give Kano a weird look, who in return shot a grin of victory across from him. He slowly shook his head in disappointment. "Why do you have to be that way?"

"Wanna fight me? I'll gladly take you on."

"If you two want to fight, you'll have to take it outside," Clyde stepped in from where he sat on the bot's shoulder, shooting the two a warning glare. "But then that means you'll have to forfeit the game, which means everyone loses."

"We can just do the 'surgery' technique," Satan suggested, scanning the tangled arms to connect the hands of Kano and Zangief for plausibility. "Besides, I wouldn't mind seeing a fight between them—a friendly one, mind you."

Cyril flopped his head over his shoulder where his axes lay. "Me call doctor," he said in a slight gurgle.

"I'm the only registered doctor in this room," Robotnik corrected, goggles glinting when he looked up at the zombie.

"I think we're too tangled up," Mishaela muttered, a frown on her lips. "If Bison hadn't moved from where he was earlier, I think we'd have a better chance." In response, he ducked his head to shake it in disagreement.

"If you wish, I can give an incantation to make your arms separate temporarily," Neff grunted, snorting and tossing his head back. "It is bloodless, too." Beholder and Bowser chuckled under their breaths, to which the rhinoceros gave a small smirk.

"I wouldn't trust that with my life, honestly," Ralph said, not taking his eyes away from his side of the knot. "Cyril, duck under here, see if that'll work." He lifted his arm in a gesture.

"He's going to get stuck if he does that," Kano interjected when he broke his gaze from Zangief. "I'll move in his stead."

"Please do, Kano," Clyde sighed, shaking his head as the criminal leader ducked under a bridge of arms. "We were doing so well, too."

"Nonsense, I think this pointless argument here is proof we're getting along." The devil gave a smile when a few villains nodded a little. "Little things come up we don't agree with, and that's wonderful."

Smoke shrugged his shoulders. "Eh, my guess is it's because we're all playing as newbies."

"No newbie would've known about the 'surgery' technique."

"Or perhaps this struggle is because we're not helping each other out as much?" the wrecker threw out, glancing around the group. "I've noticed communication was lacking, at least when it came to the game itself. We mostly just talked about other things, or snarked to each other."

Kano's hands slipped out when he moved to throw them up in defense. "Not my intention. It was just a joke." He then looked at what he did and slapped himself on the forehead. "Crud."

Dropping his arms, Cyril leaned against Ralph a little. "Still smell bad here."

The ghost let out another sigh, the robot gently placing him down on the ground. "Well, before Cyril's nose falls off... again, guess we might as well close this meeting. We'll save this for another time. Obviously, this week wasn't a great week for an activity."

Individually, the villains pulled their hands away, a few rubbing their arms and stretching them out. Once they were back in order, they reached out for a hand. Bison patted Clyde on the back in comfort before they recited their affirmation. "Sorry things didn't go as planned," he then said once their hands dropped.

"Not your fault, it's nobody's," he assured him. "It's going to sound a bit like an excuse, but we had a really skilled gamer today. Took us to a really high level."

The villains perked up in interest, a couple muttering to themselves. "Did you encounter the kill screen?" Neff inquired, putting his armor plates back on.

"Thank Namco we didn't. I think Pacman got tired by then, and had unintentionally slowed down. I don't think the player noticed." His look transitioned to that of worry for a brief moment before he took in a breath. "It was an interesting day, to say the least."

One by one, the group went up to wish Clyde well before exiting the building. Ralph caught up to the sorcerer when he made a turn for the restroom. "Neff, before I forget, I need to ask you a question."

He stopped at the doorway, hand on the handle. "Query away."

The man got right to the point. "I have a friend who would like to visit Altered Beast, if not at least see the gameplay."

"Then come on over, I appreciate visitors."

"I told her, however," he quickly added before Neff stepped into the restroom, "that I'd have to get permission from you and everyone else if we could temporarily change the coding."

"Ah, yes. You do have that knowledge." The bipedal rhinoceros' brow rose in fascination. "What is it you wish to do with the code?"

Ralph, not wanting to stall, shrugged honestly. "Whatever it'll take to keep us safe from the harsh environment."

Neff nodded in understanding. "I have no real issue about the situation. I will have to meet with the minions and heroes for their agreement, however. I am sure they will approve of it either way. Stop on by tomorrow, and I shall have an answer, and you your ideas."

"Deal." They shook hands, and with a wave, Ralph went down the tunnel, and just managed to hop into his seat before it took off.

Looking up at the tunnel lights triggered a memory, which he quickly brushed off. He looked over at Cyril beside him, thinking about starting a quick conversation, but decided against it—until he noticed the zombie was missing something. Tapping him on the shoulder, he whispered to him, "I think you forgot your hatchets again."

"I wha...?" After looking up at Ralph, Cyril dropped his head to stare at his hands. It took a moment for his slow mind to get it. "I forgot my axes!"

Some of the villains quickly stifled their laughing, the ones seated nearby reaching over to pat him on the back. The man smiled sadly, feeling bad for the character. "It's okay. We all forget sometimes."

"Not I!" Robotnik raised a hand. "With this high IQ of mine, I have the memory of three elephants, give or take."

Bowser guffawed. "Care to explain how that 'pesky hedgehog' can't foil your plans again?" he growled in a taunting manner.

"I call hypocrisy!"

As the two villains started getting into a verbal argument, Ralph quickly blocked it so he could focus on what he wanted to do with Altered Beast's coding. He imagined during gameplay, he and Vanellope could view it on a moving platform in the background, away from enemies and any debris that would fly around. For safety measures, he could grant them temporary status as non-playable characters so they wouldn't be targeted. Sounded easy enough.

When they arrived to the platform, Bowser and Robotnik were still disputing, prompting a few other characters to chant "Fight, fight!" in a joking manner. Ralph went ahead to send Cyril off back to the game, and waited until everyone entered the station before walking in himself (though fresh graffiti caught his eye and he wondered who thought it'd be funny for Sonic and Mario to co-op together). Waiting at the top of the stairs, he scanned the floor and made up his mind to not make eye-contact with anyone. He locked his vision straight ahead, keeping his mind on the modification idea.

"There you are, Ralph!"

A smile spreading across his face, he turned to face Vanellope as she bounded her way up to his side. She spoke up before he could open his mouth. "Looks like I caught you just in time before I lost you. How was the meeting?"

He gave a shrug. "Ah, same old thing, really. That's the thing about support groups, they tend to be pretty consistent. Had some issues with our activity, though."

"Did you get permission about Altered Beast?"

Deciding to mess with her, he lightly smacked his head in feint awe. "Oh, snap, it totally slipped my mind. Dear, oh dear... I can't find him in the crowd, looks like he went back home." He rubbed his neck at an angle to conceal his smirk from her. "I won't be able to see him until next week, so... might as well go on that walk around Game Central Station like you always wanted." In mock excitement, he clasped his hands and rubbed them together. "Which way you want to go, clockwise or counter-clockwise?"

Ralph could tell just by looking down at Vanellope's face she wasn't buying it. "You're a terrible liar," she simply said, brow cocked in amusement. "I can lie so much better than you."

He rolled his eyes, dropping his hands to his hips. "Oh, yeah? I'd like to see you try."

She grinned mischievously, and from her pocket, she pulled out a jawbreaker. Jutting her thumb behind her at where Surge Protector was standing, the girl explained, "He stopped me when I crossed the gate, see. Asked for my information, and I gave him my response until he asked that deadly question of 'are you possessing food or drink on your person'. He was looking at me the entire time, and I didn't want my candy taken away. So this is what I did."

Rocking her little body side-to-side, Vanellope placed her hands together before her, bent her knees slightly so they touched, puffed out her cheeks a little, and stuck out her bottom lip. Then she stared up at Ralph with big, teary eyes as she gave out a tiny whine. The man managed to be physically unfazed by her puppy-dog stare, though it tapped a chord in his core. "And that was how I snuck candy past the guard," she concluded, her stance back to normal in a blink of an eye. Snickering through her teeth, she tossed the jawbreaker in her hand a little, and stuck it in her mouth.

With a small chuckle of his own, he patted her on the head. "That was more deception than lying, but you're getting there. Just don't get it to your head that you can get away with that on me."

"Why sho'd I? I a'eady did jush now."

He made a brief gesture like he wanted to strangle her, and she laughed, jumping around in a circle. Sighing heavily, he left her be, running his hands through his wild hair. "Okay, so... you ready to go?"

"Yesh!" she exclaimed, pumping her fist into the air. He grimaced when a string of saliva dripped from her mouth, then winced even more when Vanellope slurped it back into her mouth. She spoke again like it never happened. "Shucksh A'tered Beasht hash to wait anosher day."

"I would appreciate it if you would take out that jawbreaker to speak." Ralph then had a second thought. "Actually, don't. Keep that in your mouth. And as for Altered Beast, Neff has no problem with it, he just has to talk with the other characters. I'm going in tomorrow to get his response."

The girl shrugged it off, stuffing her hands into her pockets as they began walking down a random direction. "Sho, anyshing goin' on in life?"

Thinking it as an excuse to speak more than her, he shrugged a little. "Nothing much, honestly. I'm thinking on getting a new alarm clock, one that won't break so easily. I can't always have Felix or Q*bert coming in to make sure I'm up on time. Which is odd, I should've already developed an internal alarm clock by now, but it tends to get messed up around this time of year—oh, what's it called... Daylight Savings Time. Which is ironic, considering my game doesn't have actual daylight, know what I'm saying?"

Vanellope nodded. "I shink our clock'sh'a shame year-round. Haven' rea'y paid attenshion to it."

"I think half of the reason is because I have a house now. It was easier waking up on time when it was just the brickyard, but I'm not going to complain."

"I'm not too ushed to my own bedroom yet, eisher. It'sh pretty weird." She wiped at her mouth. "My window'sh to sh'a easht, sho I get sh'a shun to sh'a eyesh ev'ry mornin'."

Ralph quietly laughed. "Sorry to hear that."

"Eh. I have acshual blanketsh and pillowsh and all t'at. I'm happy wish it." Her grin was slightly lop-sided from the bulge in her cheek. "After shtayin' in Diet Cola Moun'ain for sho long, I can bundle up like a cocoon and I'd shtill be cool. And loud noishesh can't wake me up eash'y. 'Sh one time, apparent'y Shou' Bill shaid firecrackersh a'shident'ly went off in sh'a sh'rone room when it dropped from a bundle—my bedroom'sh right above it."

Only able to understand what she was talking about over half of the time, he just nodded, brows raising to make it look like he was surprised. "Interesting."

"Yeah, it wash nutsh." Vanellope then slowed down and her face started to droop in what he believed to be the beginning of a sneeze. They stood there for a few moments until the girl scowled in disappointment. "Shtupid shneeshe." Looking up, she spotted a restroom sign down at the end, and her eyes lit up. "Be right back, Ralph, gotta take care of bushnesh. Shtay here."

He gave her a small salute. "Sure thing, President."

With a half-smile, she hurried off in almost a blend of a jog and skip. Ralph shook his head in amusement, and sat on the closest bench. Resting his chin on a hand, he watched the passers-by, occasionally giving a wave whenever he made eye-contact with a character. He briefly glanced up at the departure schedule when it flickered in an update, then he glanced down to visually trace out patterns on the floor. It was possible it was only for a few minutes, but he didn't know how long he was looking down for, finding himself surprisingly entertained in coming up with different shapes he could see. He would stare at one particular spot before scanning around to see if he would find an identical pattern only to discover a new one. It was an odd feeling to know he walked up-and-down this place for thirty years, and not once saw the detail in the marble.

Sitting back, Ralph looked up and nearly jolted back in shock when he noticed the woman from the previous evening standing off to the right. She flinched as well, her eyes slightly widening and shifting around. "Don't scare me like that," he said as a groan, pushing back his hair.

"Sorry," she whispered out, grasping her apron. She glanced over at him with a sheepish smile, then raised a hand timidly. "Hello, again."

"Yeah, yeah... uh... S... Scamples?" he purposefully botched, not feeling in the mood to speak with her.

"It's Scrumples."

"Ah, of course. Scrumples." He nodded a little, taking her in with a quick scan of her familiar outfit. "How you been?"

"Okay. Everything went well."

He blinked. "Were you having trouble before?"

She shook her head, though he noticed her hands tightened their hold slightly. "Not at all. I'm just not used to everything yet."

Nodding in understanding, he straightened his shoulders. "You'll get the hang of it. It's in your coding." His finger tapped against his knee as they shared a moment of silence, their eyes awkwardly avoiding contact. Scrumples' face slowly glowed a light pink, her hair slightly standing on end. "What are you doing back at this station, by the way? Wait, let me guess: you're reaching out again."

Her head bobbed a few times. "Yes..."

"Well, third time's the charm... unless you've been doing this longer."

She shrugged. "I've done this in both stations."

"Any luck?"

"Somewhat. I've talked to a few people, but I've gotten nothing more past, 'Welcome to Litwak's Arcade, we're glad to have you with us.' Well..." Scrumples pursed her lips while she gathered her thoughts. "...my actual neighbors are pretty good at talking to me."

Ralph perked up, giving her a small smile. "That's a good sign. They're good folks, I bet."

"Yeah, they're not bad. Don't talk a lot, though."

"Busy schedules tend to do that where you may not see each other a lot."

"N... Not that..." Her face flushed deeper as she side-glanced. Upon raising her hands to her chin, she also brought up the apron. "I just... mmm..."

He had a good idea about the cause of the lack of communication. Letting out a soft sigh, the man nodded in understanding, not wanting to continue pushing her. "I see. Guess you wanted to try your luck here, then."

Scrumples looked over at him. "Once I found my way back here, yes."

"And? Have you introduced yourself to anyone here? Besides me, of course," he hurriedly added when he caught the pause.

Her eyes drooped in melancholy, releasing her hold on the apron. Shuffling in place, she tapped her shoes against the marble floor, clasping her hands behind her. "Y... You have a good variety here," she slowly started, "and I'm sure there are nice characters. But you were right, Ralph. No one knows me here because I'm not from this station. I don't know if any of them are willing to speak a word to me."

Something tugged inside of him at her words, knowing full well what she was talking about. Fighting back the memories, the wrecker decided against bringing it up. "I wouldn't say that. They're probably just a little surprised that a stranger wandered into this station. Far as I know, few of the characters here travel all over the place."

She let out a small sigh, raising and dropping her shoulders. "I suppose..."

"Eh? Who're you, lady?"

Ralph turned to scowl at Vanellope as she walked up to them, her attention on Scrumples. "Don't be rude, that is not how a president should speak to people."

"Well, what'd you want me to do, curtsy?"

"At least it's better than shouting out 'who're you, lady' to a stranger."

"I wasn't shouting, I was questioning." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. In a hand, she twiddled between her fingers a round, solid ball of paper towel he guessed was the jawbreaker. "You need to work on deciphering tones of speech."

"I don't care if you were singing it through the speaker, you are supposed to say, 'Oh, I've never seen you around here before. Care to introduce yourself?'"

"Want me to strike a pose while I'm at it, too?" She snapped her fingers to-and-fro before her face.

Scrumples' giggle interrupted the verbal match, her face a soft pink when they turned to her. "Is she your sister, Ralph?" she asked.

"I'd much rather have Turbo be my long-lost brother than this guy," Vanellope interjected through a cheeky smirk. She laughed under his glower, slapping her knee like she had told a joke. "I kid, I kid! But seriously, he's my best friend."

The woman's eyes widened in awe, looking back-and-forth between the two. "Is that so?"

"You're not the only person to have said that," Ralph said, keeping his eye on the girl. "Scrumples, this is Vanellope, or should I say, President Vanellope of Sugar Rush."

"It's President Vanellope von Schweetz, to you, mister. But as for you, you can call me Vanellope." She gave a welcoming salute. "So your name's Scrumples, eh? I've never seen you around here before." She pointed at the man when he jumped up from the bench and took a menacing step toward her. "I said what I was supposed to say, Stink Brain! Don't get mad at me, now!"

"You better thank those lucky stars we're in public," he huffed, pointing threateningly at her. "Were we elsewhere, you'd be getting a spanking."

Her mouth dropped open more from disbelief than horror. "Not with those hands, you aren't! You'd break my butt!"

"Then perhaps you'll learn your lesson the hard way as you shuffle around. You seem to like those kinds of sessions."

"That's considered a cruel and unusual punishment to let me walk around with a broken butt!"

"Not in my book, it's not."

They stopped when Scrumples suddenly burst out laughing and clutching her middle, tears beginning to leak from the corners of her now-arched eyes. She was unaware of a few passing characters giving her an odd look as she fell to her knees. "Sh-She got you there, Ralph! Such a clever girl, hitting back your own advice!"

Vanellope raised a puzzled brow the longer she watched the woman shake with mirth, though her eyes trailed to the three long lines dancing in blocky movements above her head. Steadily leaning over to Ralph, she asked, "Uh... is she okay?" She shot him a glimpse.

"It's called 'laughter'," he muttered to the side.

"Not talking about that. For one thing... what are those?"

"I have no idea."

"And is she laughing at what I think she's laughing at?"

The man sighed, dropping his face into a hand. "Some people get jokes slower than others. Felix is the same way at times."

"Guess it makes sense." The girl frowned a little, looking around at those who were slowing for a better look. "It wasn't that big an inside joke, though."

Scrumples tried to breathe in between giggles, but was failing. She laid herself flat on the ground when her body couldn't hold itself up any longer. The tears kept on coming, streaming down her cheeks as thick, white lines.

"You sure pick the weirdest people to hang out with," Vanellope sighed, scratching her head.

Ralph gave her a brief glare, though it softened to just a warning glance when he acknowledged to himself she wasn't far from reality.

A/N: Ack, that Bad-Anon meeting was a pain x_x. I know maybe not even half of those characters, but at least thank goodness for research. I went with the names I thought were the best identifications with a few characters who are still a bit ambiguous. I don't think we'll know all of the names until the movie is released to home media.

So yeah... I may have butchered that one part. Meep.