A/N: Part two! Read and review! Me no own, you no sue! LOL, I rhyme. Srsly, though, here's Spinner's adventures continuing.

Ulysses Grant Cortez, known as Spinner due to his love of all kinds of games that had begun early in life, was not exactly the athletic type. He was in good enough shape to run away from just about anything and he was pretty quick, but he was not strong or a good fighter. He did not lift weights, he did not snowboard, and he did not box or wrestle. He had the lean body of a runner and would have been great at track and field if participating in extracurricular sports had ever interested him but they never had, and probably never would. Spinner just was not a physical sort of guy.

But AJ Dalton? He loved the exertion offered by these extreme activities, loved pushing himself to the limits. Spinner knew that if he was going to get an awesome gift for AJ's birthday, he would most likely find it here. Though he had to admit his knowledge was limited, the equipment and accessories seemed extensive.

"Guten tag!" a voice sang in a resounding tenor, and Spinner laid eyes on a tall, strong man with dark eyes and a twitchy little button nose. "Und how are you today, mien freund? I am Chet Wolpertinger. How can I help you today?"

"Chet?" Spinner asked, backing into a shelf lined with fingerless gloves and bicycle locks even as the muscular foreigner in the tight shirt enclosed on his personal space. "That's not a very German sounding name."

"Oh, ja," he said sheepishly. "But people tend to look at you strangely ven you tell zem your name is Adolf. So I change it ven I come to America!"

"Yeah, heheh, that sounds reasonable… I was just looking around for a present for my friend, see, he's really into base jumping and luge and pretty much anything extreme. Um. Well."

"Sie sind liebenswert," Chet rumbled seductively, giving Spinner an adorable smile. The spastic gamer had no idea what this big German guy wanted with him or what he was saying, but he knew he had to get the hell out of there. "I'm sure we can find something. Now, vhat can you tell me about your friend, hmm?"

"W-well AJ's from the Yukon—"

"Oh, ist so cold up there!"

"He really likes the cold, though. It's tough for him staying here because it gets so hot."

"Something he can do at night, then, when der air ist cooler." Chet hummed thoughtfully. "How about rock climbing? There are cave systems running near the gorge, und even a few abandoned mineshafts. Dark, dank, cold even during der day—spooky, though, not somewhere to go alone." He paused and grinned, putting an arm around Spinner. "Of course, der seclusion ist lovely if you have someone cute to share it with…"

Spinner swallowed hard, fear wracking every nerve in his body. The playful hacker was about to yell that he needed an adult to save him from this buck-toothed creep, but he was suddenly saved as another employee called Chet over.

"Hey, boss man! Little help here?"

"Just a minute, Mitchell, mein freund."

The voice whined. "Boss, c'mon, this is too heavy for me and the UPS guy says he needs to talk to you!"

"Ach, faul Amerikaner," he muttered, wandering off. Spinner sighed in relief at this temporary reprieve.

"Psst, dude," someone whispered at him. Spinner observed a scrawny, awkward-looking guy with a bucket hat over his messy red hair. "Escape while you can, little dude. He's only going to get worse."

"H-h-he can't be that bad, right?"

Mitchell eyed him skeptically. "You know all those things they say about Germans being kinky and weird? They're all true, dude, especially about East Germans. Now, run."

Chet walked back over when he was done, whistling cheerily. "Now, liebschen, what do you think?" He looked about for the cute little fellow who had been so nervous and sweet, but Chet saw no one. "Liebschen? Where are you hiding, liebschen?"

Spinner was not huffing and puffing from exertion—he had needed to run further than this from scarier guys than that. No, Spin was having a panic attack. The spastic gamer was not homophobic, no, far from it. Some of his best friends were gay. But the big, tough German was coming on far too strong and did not seem like the type to take no for an answer. It was for his very wellbeing; not sheer homophobia he mentally insisted, but for his own safety. The world was a dangerous place and rape could happen to anyone, even the goofy-looking guy who could not get a date. This was why Spinner had run full-tilt across the street into the occult shop and was now cowering below the heavy drapes that kept the storefront so dim.

Momentarily, he overcame his fright to peer out the window; the man who had introduced himself as Chet Wolpertinger had stepped outside to search up and down the street, a hurt expression on his face. He ran a hand through his mousy brown, shoulder length locks and sighed, his eyes forlorn. Spinner almost felt sorry for running out like that, but he rationalized his panic as he watched him go back into the shop.

"Don't get fingerprints on my window," he heard an annoyed voice squawk.

Spinner jumped three feet into the air, his adrenaline still spiking, and rammed his shoulder painfully into a sturdy wooden shelf. A crystal ball went flying across the room and his hands shot out just in time to catch it. Relieved, he let out a shuddering breath and slowly looked over the woman who now glared at him.

She was pushing fifty and her nose jutted out from her gaunt face at an angle that suggested less of a nose and more of a beak, but it did not make her ugly so much as it just made her interesting. She might have even been pretty if she were not so thin. But as it was, this was a woman who had been the skinny, awkward, plain-Jane in high school and had never truly grown out of it. She wore too much silver and turquoise jewelry over her billowing black dress, but though she somewhat resembled the Wicked Witch of the West she had held on to what good looks she had. Spinner had definitely seen uglier women who were younger than her, but she was not particularly attractive. The frown lines on her dark, red skin were deeply ingrained from a lifetime of disappointment and showed themselves clearly as she scowled down at him.

"Be careful!" she screeched. "You break it, you bought it."

Spinner nodded respectfully, backing away and slowly continuing up the aisle to the back of the store. This woman had a presence about her; maybe he was just being superstitious, but he was in an occult shop. If he had been inclined to believe in witches, Spinner would have thought for sure the woman here fit the bill.

The spastic gamer tread lightly, inspecting the books on each shelf carefully. There were non-threatening titles like "Wicca for the Solitary Practitioner" and "Bounty of the Mother Goddess" and some new-age music and chanting on CD. There were eagle feathers and quartz crystals, carved wooden statuettes, books on the religious practices of different Native American tribes and ancient pagans of Europe and Africa. Even a text that mentioned the Order of the Flying Fist from whence his friend Zoom hailed! But further into the store Spinner noticed the books and items were becoming a little more suspect. Texts on the 'Burning Times'—as followers of pagan religions called the great witch hunts—were more prominently displayed, but so were books on demonology. There were more skulls in this section than there had been in previous ones and more of the candles were black. The herbs that hung drying from the ceiling even had more sinister names and if he remembered correctly a number of them were poisonous.

Spinner picked up and examined a dagger whose blade was shaped in a flowing wave; the blade was sharp and the handle was encircled by an ornately carved snake. Spinner glanced behind him, keenly aware of sharp, golden eyes observing him over the top of a book; the old woman watched him like a hawk, thinking he was looking to shoplift. He put down the blade and turned to leave empty handed, but what he saw out of the corner of his eye made him do a double take. He stopped dead in his tracks.

Between the two shelves that framed the back wall, hanging there on that surface, was the most hideous painting he had ever had the misfortune to view. It was not poorly composed, no, far from it; the brushwork and attention to detail was incredible. It was just, well…creepy: Lightning streaked through the black sky. Water flooded across a desert floor, destroying everything in its wake, and over this landscape loomed a horrific, slime-green figure with rubbery rolls of fat on its hulking yet oddly humanoid form, topped by an octopus where a head should have been. Tentacles reared up, tightly curled around cars and screaming people to show his gaping maw. Green, draconic wings framed the greedy, flabby figure, and clawed hands dragged the whole of a small town—Handler's Corners—toward the horrible monster. In the foreground was a man in a black suit who looked like he was attempting to dive to safety, but upon closer inspection, Spinner realized there was no way it could have been a normal human man. For one thing, it had no face, and its limbs were too long and spidery for its body. The thing was wearing a black suit and a red tie, but it was diving after an adolescent, its clawed fingers scraping down the boy's face. The boy strongly resembled Vert, and it made Spinner shiver.

"Terrifying, isn't it?" she rasped. She grinned when Spinner fell screaming to the ground, laughing and smirking at his nervous fear. "Janet Wheeler completed this painting two weeks before she was incarcerated at Brush Hollow. I was lucky enough to buy it at a garage sale just after her son got out of foster care."

"W-wheeler?"

"Yes, a local artist," she said, smiling sadly as she looked again at the picture. "Janet was a tough girl from a military family, but so passionate and emotional. She loved her husband more than anything... And when he disappeared, she went mad with grief, becoming obsessed with tarot cards and other forms of divination to try and find him. She was paranoid, believing first that a member of the sheriff's department was stalling the investigation for a chance at a romance with her, and eventually that one of the deputies was responsible for his Jack's disappearance. She took the man hostage and attempted to kill him. Anyone else would have been sent up the river, but she was raving and delusional. She thought she had been to another world and that a creature she called the 'Slender Man' had helped her escape an ancient evil squid god. Some people in town even think Janet killed her husband in a rage, and the guilt was what drove her mad. But a body was never recovered and the case is still open."

The shopkeeper's face became grim once more. "In the end they locked her in the madhouse and sent her son to live with relatives in California. I believe the Wheeler boy is back in town now, managing his father's garage, all alone. It's all so very tragic."

"Oh, Vert," Spinner keened, covering his mouth. Tears were welling up in his eyes. Vert never talked about his mother, ever, and Spinner had assumed she was dead.

Her eyebrows rose up to her hairline in surprise. "You know Vert Wheeler?" she asked incredulously. "Ay, he wouldn't like that I told you that story. You mustn't tell him. He's been through so much already."

"Not a word," Spinner promised, still trying not to cry. To think one of his best friends had been living with this horrible story in their background and had never vented it to anyone…

"But, perhaps you could give him a message from me?" she asked gently. "Janet often came to my shop when she missed her husband. I comforted her as best as I could and she came to trust me. She left a few things with me for safe keeping. Could you perhaps ask him to come see Maria Wise Raven at her shop? I would ask him myself, but I am sure he would not appreciate an unsolicited visitor at the garage, so…"

"Yes, of course. I'll tell him as soon as I see him."

"Oh, thank you," she said, sighing with relief. "Thank you for helping out an old woman, dear. Here, pick out something from the jewelry rack, on the house."

"That's all right; I really don't want to impose."

"I insist."

There was something that sounded like a command in her voice, and he felt compelled to obey. Reluctantly, Spinner picked out a silver pentacle with blue rhinestones on each of the five. His incredibly Catholic grandmother would have a fit if she knew he would consider owning such a thing. With a polite goodbye, Spinner departed the store, emotionally drained. Modern logic or no, this woman—this Maria Wise Raven—was definitely a witch.

Spinner's stomach growled and he took that as his cue to look for dinner.

The hacker did not relish the idea of seeing any of the Battle Force 5 at that moment, scared he would burst into tears the moment he saw Vert's face. Zeke's was not an option. He would instead look for someplace else. There were few other choices in such a small town, but fortunately Spinner was in the right area to find such a place. Totem Corners was full of different little curiosities and right up the street was Lucky Panda Chinese.

He hoped a little beef lo mein would cheer him up; Spinner just felt like sitting in the same spot for an hour and eating as much as he could with no one to talk to. But he had the feeling the mental images from that evil painting would dull his appetite. The little boy screaming as the claws scratched across his face, the faceless man in the black suit who looked so familiar, the huge rubbery tentacles that raked across town and rent asunder everything in their path…

'No calamari for me, thanks,' he thought, shaking his head. But before he could quite make it to the door of the restaurant, Spinner was pulled away by his wrist.

"Hey, there, pal, how are you?"

The young man who had accosted him was only a little taller than Spinner, a little on the scrawny side, with brown hair and brown eyes, and otherwise plain to the point of being nondescript. He had no style whatsoever. From the vacant look in his eyes, Spinner was also fairly certain he was unimaginative and not very bright. Worst of all was the unsettling, fake smile on his face. "Do I know you?" he asked, grabbing his hand away.

"No, but boy, should you ever. I'm Lloyd, Lloyd Carter." Spinner blanched as his hand was grabbed again and forcibly shook; this was the smug idiot Tag and Bink had warned him about. "I don't think I've ever seen you around here before, friend. Don't remember you from my school days, either. Say, are you new in town?"

"Been living in Handler's Corners almost two years, but this is the first time I've ever been to Totem Corners. I've just been so busy with work—"

"Taking care of business, I see, I see, very responsible of you." He put an arm around Spinner, trying to lead him towards the alley. "Don't worry, guy, I'll show you the ropes. There's a lot of cool stuff to do, but there are some people you've got to watch out for, and I'll be able to show you who to avoid. Francis Mario Castelucci, also known as Tag, for example, once got a little too obsessed with Team Fortress 2 and hit a guy with a baseball bat for hacking his Steam account. Then we've got James Riley Ford, also known as Bink; big guy, strong and silent type, break your legs for looking at him cross-eyed. Those two guys? Bad news. You should never play Dungeons & Dragons with them. Ever."

His earlier assessment of 'not very bright' was insufficient. This guy was about as subtle as a flying mallet. He went straight for character defamation, not even bothering with actually trying to gain Spinner's trust before badmouthing Tag and Bink.

Spinner twisted out of Lloyd's grip, pushing him away. "If you think you can bully me out of that campaign, you're either crazy or an idiot. I take my gaming very seriously and I won't be tricked by a jerk like you."

Lloyd's features darkened as he grabbed Spinner's left arm and twisted it around, holding it above his head so the gamer was pulled off his feet. Spinner hissed in pain, forced to look into Lloyd's empty, soulless eyes.

"Listen, you little punk," he said, his tone calm and even; that godforsaken smile was still on his face. "I was in the game for months—months. I was very emotionally invested in the story. Sure, the group had a little falling out, but I'll convince them to take me back once you're out of the way. You think you matter to Tag and Bink? That they wouldn't throw you out like they did me? You're less than nothing to them, just a warm body to roll the dice."

"Let me go!" Spinner shouted. "Somebody help!"

"I'm getting back in that game and no one's going to stop me, especially not a little weasel like you."

Finally, the gamer's struggle bore fruit as he broke Lloyd's grasp, turning to punch that loser right in the mouth. As Lloyd cried out and fell to his knees, Spinner turned and ran. He went right into Lucky Panda for dinner, never looking back. Of course, because he never looked back, Spinner neither saw Lloyd get dragged into an alley, nor by whom he was dragged. Spinner only knew he was pissed off and hungry and his right hand hurt like the dickens. He was having a rough time and deserved a nice meal to help settle his nerves.

Tezz and AJ had raved about this place, but it was only just now that Spinner got a chance to try out there cuisine. It was a noisy little place, busy as all get out, with a menu that made his spiked head spin. When the cute waitress came over, he could tell from her accent that she was fresh off the boat, and he realized that it was probably a family operation that brought relatives away from the oppressive regime that was the People's Republic of China whenever they could afford to. Spinner placed his order and ate in peace, his time there relatively uneventful. He spoke to no one at first, only watching others as they ate, gossiped and left. There was one noisy little old man shouting in Cantonese at another old man large enough to be a sumo wrestler. The big old guy did not seem overly vexed, responding slowly and calmly in the same language. The skinny old man sulked, muttering as he went back to the kitchen.

The waitress brought Spinner some ice for his sore knuckles while he waited, and that was when the prodigiously large man noticed him. He looked as if he would tower head and shoulders above Sherman and this height, combined with his thick limbs and the measure of his gut, made for quite an impressive figure. Spinner swallowed nervously as the Kingpin lookalike waddled over to his table, gently picking up his injured hand.

"You punch wrong," he said simply in his deep baritone.

"Huh?"

"You punch wrong. You hurt yourself, dummy. See? Your hand cut up." His broken English spoke truthfully about the condition of Spinner's injured right hand; the boy had skinned a knuckle on Lloyd's tooth.

The hacker thought it odd that a Chinese restaurant would have such high quality bandages on hand, unaware of the quasilegal fights that took place in the basement, but he did not complain. The old man, who introduced himself as Mr. Po, cleaned and bandaged the boy's hand and then proceeded to teach Spinner how to throw a proper punch. Now if he ran into Lloyd again, he could take the prick down without hurting himself.

Too many crab rangoons and lo mein noodles later, the elder Cortez was feeling peachy-keen. That loser, Lloyd, must have gotten the hint, he figured, since his dinner had gone uninterrupted. Well-fed and ready to go, he walked out of the restaurant and unwrapped his fortune cookie.

'Fortune smiles upon you. Accept the next proposition you hear.'