Long ago, there existed a pleasant land called Torras. The king ruled from a modest castle in the main town of the same name. In Torras – that is to say, the town – a variety of traders and shopkeepers made a living. But there was one businessman who had just arrived, and stood apart from the others; in fact, he stood apart from all the citizens of the town. They were pale, but he dark-skinned; they were all of the same approximate height, but he far taller; and they all wore honest smiles, while his smile was more oily. He sat in the noon sun, resplendent in his black and purple suit and skull-and-crossbones emblazoned top hat, waiting for an idiot to wander by. He received what he wanted, and more, in the form of Michael J. Caboose.

Caboose wore blue Spartan armour, although his helmet was of a more simplistic design than the other Spartans chronicled thus far. He held a rifle recklessly, waving it around with little regard for safety. The citizens of Torras were in no danger; the rifle had been rendered inoperable after Caboose had tried loading it crayons. He was exploring Torras while whistling.

He was tapped on the shoulder. He turned to see a thin man with a thinner moustache looking him up and down with sharp, purple eyes. Behind him, his shadow smiled at Caboose, slightly out of sync with the man himself. "Greetings," he purred. "A tip of the hat from Dr Facilier," he said, removing his hat and bowing deeply.

"Hello!" was the reply. "I'm Caboose. I'd take my helmet off, but I'm not sure how to any more."

"You seem like you've been wandering a while. Can I offer you a seat?" asked Facilier, gesturing to a table behind him as his shadow gestured to a chair. "And perhaps, while we're at it... I can show you your future," he grinned, suddenly holding a tarot deck.

"Oh wow!" gasped Caboose. "A wizard!" He gladly took a seat and choose three cards when prompted. Facilier laid them out smoothly in a row.

"So I see you're a military man," said Facilier, turning over the card of Strength.

"I get paid to stand around holding a gun!" confirmed Caboose happily. "And I get dental for when mean ladies break my teeth with their fists."

"And right now, you're a bit lost," continued the Shadowman, revealing the Fool.

"That's true of most days."

"And let's see what your future holds… hmm." Facilier frowned down at The Tower card.

"What's that?" queried Caboose, examining the card. It depicted a tower being struck by lightning in the dead of night, bursting into flames, as people threw themselves from its windows. "...Is it good?"

"Uh, sure," answered Facilier. For someone as naïve and cheerful as Caboose, it was always better to stress the positive. The only problem is The Tower, unlike the other cards, had no real upside. The best Facilier could tell Caboose was that "You're going to see some real big changes soon enough."

"Well, duh. Even I could have told you that," scoffed Caboose.

Facilier gritted his teeth. "You certainly are... interesting," he said. "Tell you what. How's about you take this," he said, producing a small voodoo doll, "and you and I meet up again later."

"Thank you, Professor Facsimile!" said Caboose, sitting the doll on his shoulder. "I'll call him Keith! No wait, David!" Caboose struggled for a moment, grasping for a compromise. "David Keith!" he decided.

"That's nice. Now, you run along. And enjoy your stay in Torras," smiled Facilier.

##

Carth Onasi nervously ran his hand through his short brown hair. He had difficulty trusting people around him at the best of times, and being forced into a coalition with two complete strangers was hardly the best of times. The sun glinted off of the buttons of his orange jacket, as well as his silver blaster, which his hand resting was on. Just in case.

Caboose walked up to him. "There you are," said Carth. "I wasn't able to get information from the locals in the bar. What have you done?"

"Well," said Caboose matter-of-factly. "First, I chased some chickens for a while. Then, I nearly fell into the well. Then, I got my fortune told by a wizard, and he gave me this doll. And then I ran into a barrel and it exploded." He paused. "I love this place!" he concluded in a shout.

"That's... nice. What about you, Dr Freeman? You find anything?" Carth asked, knowing it was futile. They had only learned Gordon's name because it was written on the letter; he was completely mute. The third member of their group was a bearded, bespectacled man in an orange and black protective suit. Currently, he was hitting a stone wall with his crowbar. Upon being addressed, he gradually turned around and stared at Carth. Just when the eye contact became uncomfortable, he shook his head slowly. Then he turned back to the wall and resumed hitting it.

"That's... right. Well," said Carth, unnerved. "I guess we should head out then." He nodded to the massive red and white doors which served as the entrance and exit to the town of Torras. "Maybe this Facilier guy is in the woods somewhere."

"I can't remember from where," murmured Caboose, "but that name sounds familiar to me. Maybe we should ask the wizard if we see him again."


"Cole, man, I was looking for you!"

Cole started and turned around, seeing Zeke approach him. "Why?" asked Cole, seeing the Medigun in Zeke's hands. "You want to show me your new toy?"

"Nah, this is for the med bay," explained Zeke. "I agreed to drop it down on Engie's behalf after he fixed it, since it'd also give me a chance to track you down." Zeke looked around the darkened room he had found Cole in. "What're you doing down here, brother?"

Cole shook his head. "Just... thinking. About Kuo."

Zeke sighed and put a hand on Cole's shoulder. "Listen man, I know you're upset. We all are. Lotta good people have died in this crazy thing. But you can't just sulk down here."

"It's not even that," replied Cole. "Of course I'm sad. But the reason I'm thinking about it is... I'm sceptical."

"Sceptical? What, you think she's not dead?"

"No, she's dead," said Cole solemnly. "Otherwise, she'd be here. It's how she died that confuses me. Revan said she fell into lava, right?"

"So you say, yeah."

"Kuo can teleport. She wouldn't fall into anything," said Cole, his eyes narrowing.

"So... what did happen?" asked Zeke apprehensively.

"I can't say," muttered Cole. "I'm just... Forget it."

They stood in silence for a few moments.

"Come on, man," said Zeke after a time. "I need to drop this in to the doc, and then run a few more tests with you. I... really don't know what to tell you about this Kuo business."

"I wish I knew what to tell myself," replied Cole.


A brigand jumped out from behind a tree, brandishing a short dagger. He smiled mockingly at Carth and demanded his gold.

Carth shot the brigand in the chest with his blaster. The brigand flew backwards, landed on his rear, and passed out, disorientated. Carth shook his head. "This place is a vacation resort compared to Lower Taris." He holstered his weapon and kept walking.

"And then O'Malley became my room-mate, only instead of an apartment, we shared my brain!" Caboose was saying to Gordon, behind Carth. "So yeah, the lesson to be taken from that is that AIs can go on the radio and burrow into your mind, like a catchy song. A catchy song where the lyrics are 'You should kill your friends!'"

Gordon looked at Caboose.

"Oh, I'm sorry," apologised the blue soldier. "I've been talking about myself this whole time. How are you? I see your armour is orange. I like that. Orange is a good colour."

Gordon kept walking.

"I knew a guy in orange armour once," Caboose said. "Only, it wasn't orange, it was yellow. But then his twin brother came down from the moon and he was yellow, and I realized the first guy was orange the whole time! It was a big day."

Gordon showed no reaction.

"But your armour has no helmet. Everyone I know wears their helmet all the time. It's great, 'cause my helmet is the best helmet. It's Mark V, and everyone else has Mark VI. And five is better than six on a top ten list. Right?"

Gordon remained silent.

"Yeah, I thought so. The other guys didn't agree with me, but it's good to have you back me up. In fact, you're really nice! You haven't been mean to me yet!"

Gordon spotted a beehive hanging from a nearby tree. He took out his gravity gun, pulled the beehive down, and shot it at Caboose's head. The beehive exploded against his helmet, covering his visor. Gordon walked on.

"Nevermind, then," said Caboose.


"...and then the panda flexed his pinkie finger," concluded Tai Lung, "and I exploded."

The villains were on another collective break, and had begun to amiably swap stories. Tai Lung's, which he had just finished recounting, was met with a series of confused stares.

"You exploded," said Scar flatly.

"Yes."

"Are... you sure?" asked Loki.

"Positive," growled the leopard.

"Bah!" scoffed Doom. "No such technique could actually exist."

"I thought so too," shrugged Tai Lung. "And yet..."

"Perhaps we should turn our attention to more immediate matters," said Azula, from where she leaned against a wall. "Our most recent conquests against our strange foes, perhaps?"

"Mine certainly went well," bragged Loki. "Ah, but I've told that tale already. Perchance it's time for a new one."

"Dr Horrible!" said Scar, fixing the Scientist with a hungry grin. "You never told us how you dealt with the ruffians you faced. What horrors did you inflict on them?"

Dr Horrible tugged at the collar of the labcoat, and his eye began to twitch. "Well, see, it was pretty clever of me, actually. I froze the angry one..."

"Right," said Azula.

"Then I asked them to show me their letter, pointed out we didn't actually have to fight, and then they let me leave."

"Ooh, how villainous!" taunted Bison.

"Was that really the best you could do?" asked Loki, giving Horrible a condescending smile.

"Come on guys," said Horrible uneasily. His twitching intensified. "We've all got styles here. Like, M Bison. You're all about honourably breaking your opponent's spine."

Bison grinned. "But of course."

"And Dr Doom is all about acting superior to those around him."

"Being superior to those around Doom," corrected Doom.

"Uh, right. And you, Loki. You trick people into looking the other way, and then backstab them."

Loki modestly twirled his staff. "We do what comes naturally."

"Exactly! And killing doesn't come naturally to me. My style is more subtle and stuff."

"Subtle?" asked Maleficent. Horrible had never before realized how tall she was. "Subtle is your word for it. But I think the rest of us would agree on a different term."

"Weak," sneered Azula.

"Spineless," said Bison.

"Pitiable," offered Loki.

"Pathetic," said Scar.

"Wretched!" boomed Doom.

"Well, perhaps not an exact word," said Maleficent, "but an idea. You are beneath us, Horrible. You are a coward."

"Yeah, well, maybe I don't need you people either!" snapped Dr Horrible suddenly. His rage had overridden his fear, and several days' uncomfortable thoughts came bubbling to the surface. "Maybe I don't belong here! I'm not a sadistic royal fop with a British accent!"

"With a what?" queried Scar confusedly. Horrible ignored him.

M Bison stepped towards Horrible. "My my, it seems that you've finally -"

"Don't get me started on you!" yelled Horrible. "You're the worst person here. You think you're honourable? There's no honour in killing. You think you're intelligent? You're just a dumb brute. You think you're sophisticated? You're just a bully." Dr Horrible spat this final word venomously, and emphasised it by jabbing his gloved finger into Bison's muscular chest. Their difference in stature and physique served only to further underline Horrible's point.

It was a rare moment where Bison's smile died. This was one such moment. He stared at the doctor emotionlessly, and then wrapped his hand around Horrible's throat, lifting him into the air.

"It's curtains for you, Horrible," he said. "Jet black curtains. That I set on fire."

Through the red haze behind his eyes and the hand on his neck, Dr Horrible still managed to give Bison a quizzical look.

"Leave him, Bison," commanded Maleficent. Bison released Horrible, the blond man falling to the floor and gasping for breath. His goggles clattered off of his head, and Dr Doom bent to pick them up.

"You a disgrace to everyone here, Doctor," said Maleficent slowly, addressing him with a dour decorum. "I hereby banish you from this domain. We will not kill you, if only because you are too far beneath us to deserve such an honour. Now leave."

"That's right," sneered Scar. "Run. Run, far away, and never return."

Horrible stood shakily, rubbing his neck. He turned to leave, but Dr Doom stood in the way. Horrible tensed, but Doom merely offered him something.

"Your goggles," intoned Dr Doom, but with little grace. Dr Horrible gratefully snatched his apparel from Doom's metal hand.

As he left, Dr Horrible caught the eyes of Tai Lung. They held eye contact for a while, but neither said anything. Horrible waited for Tai Lung to do something, but after a few seconds of inaction the Scientist broke away, glaring. He pulled his goggles on to cover his eyes, and then he strode furiously out of the tower and into the expanse of the desert.

Azula smiled to herself.


They had arrived at a weathered castle of white stone, sat on an island. They had crossed three rickety wooden bridges to a small grassy courtyard. The castle (although that is an opulent word for the worn, broken building) was up a staircase to the right, while a thin stone path sloped downwards to the left. They had decided to briefly split the party in order to search more effectively.

Caboose was in the courtyard, making a training dummy spin on its pivoting base by punching one side of it. Carth climbed up the stack of boxes from the stone path, back into the courtyard.

"Nothing there but a metal grate I can't open," he announced to Caboose. He would have questioned what Caboose had found, but he knew that the soldier had been playing with the dummy since they arrived.

Carth sighed. "Maybe Freeman's having better luck."

##

Gordon was climbing the the stairs to the top of the castle's tower, emptying his machine-gun into the walls as he did so. Had he not been making so much noise, he might have noticed Facilier was just behind him.

Dr Facilier's voodoo was powerful and varied. For example, he had effortlessly tracked the trio by use of 'David Keith'. However, there were limits. Although he had a blood-based amulet who altered the wearer's appearance into the person whose blood filled it, he couldn't use it to change his own form. However, he recently realized that there was nothing stopping him from being the blood donor, as it were.

His shadow held the amulet and crept slowly towards Gordon.

"Alright then, doc," Facilier whispered. "You and I are gonna have a nice long talk."

##

"No, Caboose," said Carth impatiently. "Lightsabres are the ancient symbol of Jedi wisdom. They aren't keys."

"But they unlock your death!"

As Carth struggled to find a response to that, he heard a cough behind him. He turned to see Facilier beaming merrily at him.

"Nurse FaxMachine!" cried Caboose happily. "You know about unlocking people's deaths, right?"

"I most certainly do," grinned Facilier maliciously. He pulled down on the skull-and-crossbones on his hat, somehow wearing it as a mask over the top half of his face.

Carth, having had a crash course in how to speak Caboose, realized quickly that this was Dr Facilier. He produced his blaster and tried to shoot Facilier, but his aim was put off by a violent push. He was startled; no-one was close enough to him to have pushed him, unless something like Facilier's shadow had somehow managed to do it.

Seizing the chance, Facilier blew some pink dust into the pilot's face, eliciting a pained cry from Carth. Then, with a wink to Caboose, Facilier threw down a smoke bomb, which exploded into a burst of colours. When it cleared, he was nowhere in sight.

"Ugh... I feel sick," moaned Carth, who was quickly paling. He lowered to the ground, supporting himself with one hand. "Where'd he go?"

"Look, he's up there!" said Caboose, pointing to the roof of the castle's tower. Indeed, visible against the blue sky was the unmistakeable form of Dr Facilier.

"How'd he get up there so fast? Ugh, it doesn't matter." Carth produced a spherical grenade from his jacket pocket. "Here, Caboose. I don't trust myself to make that throw right now."

"But you do trust me?" asked Caboose dubiously.

"Just do it!"

"Uh, okay!"

Caboose pulled one arm back, aimed carefully, and then shot his arm forward in a majestic throw. When nothing happened, he realized that he had used the wrong arm. He performed the same action again with his other limb, and the grenade sailed from his hand. It flew through the air and came to a impressive stop right next to where the black suited man was standing.

"Wow! That was the best throw I ever did!" said Caboose proudly.

The grenade exploded, throwing the man off the tower. Curiously, his feet remained parallel to the ground as he flew towards it. He landed on both feet with a terrible snapping noise, and crumpled to the ground.

"Major fracture detected," stated Facilier's leg. "User death imminent."

The amulet around Facilier's neck snapped from its string and rolled away. The man appearance changed by degrees back into that of Gordon Freeman.

"Oh," said Caboose sadly. "That's why."

Carth coughed. "Did... we just kill Dr Freeman?"

"Yeah," said Caboose, in his far-off manner. "I only ever seem to be able to kill my team-mates. We've just accepted it as a fact of life now. No-one yells at me for it. Ever."

Carth hit upon an idea. "Well, I guess without Freeman, I'm doomed. If I were you, Caboose, I'd switch teams. Help Dr Facilier."

Caboose thought about it. "I would like a hat like his... And in my experience, enemies are just friends who live on the other side of the canyon. So you and me could still hang out!"

"Yay," choked Carth.

Dr Facilier was striding up to them casually, as if he had merely bested them in a card game, and not mortal combat. "Why hello there," he said smoothly. "I see you've unravelled my little parlour trick. Your friend was more than willing to assist me. Or at least," he laughed, "he didn't say no!"

There was a crunch.

"What," said Facilier, paling, "was that?"

"Oops!" said Caboose. "I meant to pick up your amulet for you, but I think I stepped on it." He looked down. "Yep, definitely broken. Pieces everywhere."

Dr Facilier stared in horror as green flame began to lick around the castle walls. A taunting, fast-paced drum beat began to pound as voodoo masks came out from behind corners, sneering at Facilier hungrily. The doll on Caboose's shoulder jumped down and ran towards its former master threateningly as the Shadowman and his shadow pressed themselves against a wall, terrified.

Carth blinked. "What the hell is this?"

"Tucker did it," Caboose lied quickly.

##

Carth and Caboose appeared on the bridge of the Halberd, the latter still hunched on the ground.

"Howdy!" greeted Deadpool. He examined Carth. "You okay, buddy? You look a little sick."

"I'm hallucinating," said Carth. "Or at least, I hope I am."

"There were masks, and dolls, and they sang at the wizard and then he and his imaginary friend were dragged into a wall," explained Caboose. "It was all very scary."

"Cool!" said Deadpool, not the slightest bit taken aback. He called in Dr McNinja over the intercom to escort Carth to the med bay, which the doctor promptly did.

"So, who was your third guy?" Deadpool asked Caboose conversationally, more curious than tactful.

"His name was Gordon," said Caboose. "He's a bit dead right now."

"What happened?"

"Someone – and we don't know who," stressed Caboose, "may have knocked him off a tower with a grenade because we thought he was the bad guy."

"Well, it happens I suppose," said Deadpool levelly. "Ain't no-one's fault, homeboy."

"Exactly!" said Caboose relievedly. "Besides, I'm sure he wasn't that important. I bet he wasn't even a real doctor."


What kind of doctor grows a beard? And furthermore, what kind of internet denizen reads a fanfic without throwing together a quick review?