SF led his newly-created daughter Mary Magdalene out of the witch's house and brought her to the wasteland where he lived. As Mary observed her surroundings, she could see that the wasteland didn't have any form of vegetation. The ground was very dry and didn't have any grass, mud, or flowers. The weather was also quite overcast, as the sky was very dull and covered in gray clouds. There were no trees or animals in sight. It was surprising that someone like SF could survive such harsh conditions. But Mary decided not to ask any questions. She just hoped her father/creator lived in a nice house, even though it was supposedly in the middle of nowhere.

"Well, here we are, Mary," said SF as they stopped at his small shack. "Welcome to your new home."

Mary observed the shack and could see that it looked pretty run-down and unkempt. She wasn't quite sure what to think of it.

"Um…Are you sure this is the place you live?" she asked. "If it is, I sure hope there is enough room for both of us."

"Oh, there's plenty of room in there," chuckled SF. "Come, let me take you inside."

He brought Mary into the house, where she could see it looked just as small as it was on the outside. It seemed to consist of only one room with various furniture. Not to mention the house had quite a pungent smell. It was probably ammonia, but nobody knew for sure.

"Eugh, it smells really weird in here," said Mary, holding her nose.

"It smells fine to me," said SF. That was easy for him to say, because he didn't have a nose to begin with. "Shall I make you some tea to help you feel more comfortable here?"

"Well, you can clean this place up a bit first," said Mary. "It looks pretty filthy."

"Rubbish, child, rubbish," said SF. "I do not see anything wrong with the state of my house."

"And it feels rather chilly in here," added Mary, feeling a draft coming through the cracked windows.

"Balderdash," said SF. "I don't feel a thing."

As Mary passed by the table, she noticed something sitting on top of it. Wait, no, there were three things on the table. They looked quite odd, and she had no idea what they were.

"What are these weird-looking things?" she asked, pointing to the strange objects on the table.

"Those, my dear, are my finger puppets," said SF. "I often consult them because they give me good advice. Their names are Hubert Cumberdale, Marjory Stewart-Baxter, and Mr. Jeremy Fisher."

"Those sound like very strange names to me," said Mary.

"Nonsense!" chuckled SF. "I think they're rather suitable. Sometimes, I also suck on them to see what they taste like."

"What?!" exclaimed Mary. "No way!"

"It's true," said SF. "Marjory tastes like sunshine dust, while Hubert tastes like soot and poo."

"That's disgusting," said Mary. She couldn't believe that puppets could taste like that. In that case, she decided that she wouldn't try sucking on them herself, because, quite frankly, it was both nasty and unsanitary. But what seemed even stranger to Mary was the fact that SF actually talked to the puppets because they supposedly told him what he needed to do. Then she saw something else on the table, next to the finger puppets. It was a radio that looked like it was in bad shape.

"What is that thing?" she asked.

"That's Roger, my radio," said SF. "I try to tune him to see if I can get a broadcast of a news station that talks about what is currently going on in the world. But only if he's given enough sustenance."

"Does it really work?" she asked. "It looks kind of broken."

"Fiddlesticks!" said SF. "Roger works perfectly fine. He just needs to be fed sustenance in order to function properly."

"Sustenance? What do you mean by that?" asked Mary.

"Sustenance, my dear, are these small brown pellets," said SF. "If I feed enough of them to Roger, he'll be satisfied enough to give me the broadcast I want."

"Okay, that's weird," said Mary.

"Well now, since you're my new daughter, I think it's time we got down to business," said SF, rubbing his hands together. "You must clean the house every day and go out to get some food and other supplies that we might need."

"Can't you do that yourself?" asked Mary.

"I certainly shall not," said SF. "I used to raid the town's shops to get what I needed, but the foolish humans who lived in the town decided to relocate themselves."

"How come?" asked Mary.

"You do not want to know," said SF. "Trust me, you do not. It has caused me plenty of trouble, especially with all those camera-bearing loons, and I do not want any more of that. The new town is much farther away, but I do not want to risk going there and getting caught by the citizens. If I do get caught, I believe they might punish me severely. That's why, for the sake of my own safety, I'm sending you to the new town to fetch some necessities. It'll be your daily mission, and one that I can trust you on. Do you understand, Mary dear?"

"Yes," said Mary, feeling a little confused. To make it easier for Mary to bring the food back, SF gave her a satchel to carry things in. He fashioned it out of patched-up skin from the humans he murdered in the past, but didn't tell Mary that for obvious reasons.

"Be a good girl and don't get into any mischief," said SF when Mary went out to find some food. This was a silly thing to say to a young girl at any time. It immediately made her wonder what kind of mischief she might get into.

There was only one little problem. Mary couldn't seem to find any food around the wasteland area. But as she looked around, she saw a hill. On top of the hill was a town full of people and buildings. Looking back, she could only see a few houses in the wasteland area, especially the shack that she and SF resided in. So this must be what SF meant when he said he was forced to stop looting their shops. The new town was pretty high up, but Mary knew she didn't have much of a choice. If she came back empty-handed, she would be horribly punished by her father. She had no idea what he would do to her, but she knew it wouldn't be pretty. So, up the hill she went.

As she reached the top, she couldn't believe how different it was compared to the wasteland. It had grass, trees, flowers, and a civilization of people. The sky was a bright shade of blue and it was only partly cloudy. The clouds themselves were white instead of gray. Mary was astonished at such a sight. Everyone seemed to be enjoying a peaceful life in this beautiful town. In fact, the town seemed so enchanting that it looked like a place that any tourist would want to visit. It looked like it could be a dream, or a place that only existed in another time. With her jaw dropped open in astonishment, Mary thought to herself, "This place is just way too good to be true."

But she couldn't just stand there and gaze at the town's sights, for she had to remember what she came for. Clutching her satchel, she decided to explore a little to see if there was someplace where she could find some food. As she walked, she saw many different houses, shops, and restaurants. The town seemed so big to her, and she didn't know where she should go. Suddenly, she noticed a restaurant called "Billy Bob's BBQ". Mary had no idea what a BBQ was, but she certainly hoped she could find some food there. Without further hesitation, she walked into the restaurant, where a man wearing an apron was flipping burgers and hot dogs on a grill. When he heard the ding of the bell on the door, he knew another customer had come for a nice meal.

"I'll be with you in a minute," he said as Mary took a seat on a stool next to the counter table. She waited patiently as the man took the burgers and hot dogs off the grill, put them into buns, placed them on plates, put some fries and potato chips on the side, and served them up to some hungry customers. Then he returned to where Mary was sitting.

"Howdy," he said. "Sorry if it took so long. As you can see, I've been havin' a busy shift today. Anyway, welcome to Billy Bob's BBQ, the best bar and grill in town. What can I do for you today, young lady?"

"I've been looking for a place to get some food for me and my father," said Mary. "Do you have anything to give me?"

"Well, you're in luck!" said the man. "You've come to the right place! Take a look at the menu and see what you might like."

Mary looked at the menu on the wall, and saw it had a wide variety of grilled meats, side dishes, drinks, and desserts. While they all sounded quite edible, she couldn't decide what she wanted.

"I don't know, sir," she said. "Some of the items on your menu seem quite nice, but I'm not sure what I'd like."

"What's the matter?" asked the man. "Don't you have any money?"

"Hmm…I don't think so," said Mary, reaching into her satchel to feel for some money. Apparently, SF didn't know what money was, because he didn't give any to Mary when he gave her the satchel to carry her items in.

"Oh, you have no money?" said the man. "Well, no problem! One of our special menu items is high-quality, low-smoked beef jerky, which you can get for free!"

"Beef jerky?" said Mary.

"That's right," said the man. "My customers can't get enough of that stuff. It's got a chewy and tender texture, and it's perfect for any occasion, from camping trips to road trips. The best part is that it's a homemade recipe, made from the finest ingredients."

"I see," said Mary. "In that case, I'd like to try it."

"All right then, comin' right up!" said the man as he disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned, he gave Mary a ziploc bag containing some properly dried beef jerky.

"Here ya go," he said. "Free of charge."

"Thank you, mister…" said Mary. "Um, what's your name?"

"Call me Harry," said the man, pointing to the name tag on his shirt.

"Thank you, Mr. Harry," said Mary as she got up from her seat. "I think I'll enjoy your beef jerky. And hopefully, so will my father."

"No problem, kid," said Harry. "I'm always happy to help! Come back soon!"

Mary placed the beef jerky into her satchel and left the restaurant. It was actually quite nice of the man to give her some food without having to pay for it. As she kept on walking, she saw a girl with orange hair and wearing a pink dress skipping down the road. She was holding a basket with something inside, although Mary wasn't sure what it was. But she sure hoped that the girl had something to give her.

"Um, excuse me!" she called out to the girl, who immediately stopped in front of her.

"Oh, hello!" said the girl. "I did not see you there. My name is Mable. What's yours?"

"Mary Magdalene," said Mary. "What's in that basket of yours?"

"Just some mollusks that I've brought from my latest fishing trip at Honeycomb Bay," said Mable. "You see, my father is a fisherman. He catches fish and mollusks to sell at stores. Sometimes I help him collect mollusks while he reels in fish. Some of my favorite mollusks to collect are clams."

"Clams?" said Mary.

"Yes," said Mable. "I really like clams. They're edible and have a nice, salty taste. That's why we sell them in the seafood aisle at the local grocery store. You should probably try some."

"What else do you have besides clams?" asked Mary.

"I have some grape punch," said Mable, taking out a bottle from her basket. "It washes down the salty clam taste quite well. And I also have some onions that I bought from the store a while ago. My father needs a few to cook for dinner tonight."

"I see," said Mary. "Well, I need some food to bring to my father, too. All I have is some beef jerky from Billy Bob's BBQ. May I have some of the clams and onions you have?"

"Sure," said Mable, taking out some clams and onions for Mary to put in her satchel. "And how about some grape punch to drink?"

"That would be nice," said Mary as Mable handed her a bottle of grape punch. "Thank you, Mable."

"You're welcome, Mary," said Mable. "Now, I need to get home. I do not want to keep my parents waiting."

"Me neither," said Mary.

"See you later!" said Mable as she continued on her way. Mary looked at her satchel to take stock of her inventory. She nodded to herself, knowing that some beef jerky, clams, onions, and grape punch was feasible enough. As long as she came home with some food, SF would be satisfied. She left the town and went down the hill to return to the run-down shack and tell her father what she got. On her way, she ran into a man standing near the shack. He was wearing a green shirt and holding a camera.

"Um, excuse me," said Mary. "Would you mind getting out of the way? I have to get past."

"Huh? Oh!" said the man as he turned his head and saw Mary standing next to him. "Hello, young lady. I was just snapping some pictures of that shack over there."

"Whatever for?" asked Mary.

"I need to get some evidence of the freaky green mutant creature living in it," said the man. "I always wait for him to come out so I can snap photos of him doing something weird or suspicious so I can send them to the governess as proof that he might still be a threat to us."

"What do you mean?" asked Mary.

"When our town used to be down here instead of on the hill, he unexpectedly came one day and terrorized the citizens," said the man. "He broke into the shops and clobbered people who got too close to him. Then he dragged them away and into his shack, and as far as rumor has it, once anyone steps foot in that shack, they're never seen again. No one knows exactly where the creature came from, or how he even came into existence, but I'm more than certain that he eats humans for dinner. Maybe that's why he abducted so many of them."

"Wait, he eats people?" said Mary, feeling a little suspicious. "What kind of a weirdo would do that?"

"Only a freaky green-skinned being would," said the man. "That's why I've been taking pictures to send to the governess. If she sees that he's still causing terror among our people, she will have to call a town meeting to figure out how we can stop him for good. The citizens have lived with enough fear and paranoia. We don't need them going through it again."

"Have you been…getting any good pictures?" asked Mary.

"So far, I haven't seen him doing any harm to other people," said the man. "I think he seems to be aware that no one lives here anymore. Well, except for me, that is. I decided to stay down here in order to keep tabs on the creature and see if I could get more pics without him noticing. In fact, a few days ago, he came to my shelter and asked if I had any rusty spoons. I didn't know what the heck he was talking about, so I said no. I was pretty sure he was trying to look for my camera, but I had it very well-hidden, as well as the pictures I took of him. I tried to explain that I was working on a very top-secret project, but my words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Then he noticed a kettle that I use to brew tea every morning and asked if he could caress it, but even though I tried to tell him no again, he just picked it up and started stroking it, claiming it to be 'rusty'. I thought to myself, 'This guy is as nutty as a Froot Loop', and told him to go away. So, he did. It's a good thing he didn't find the pictures, or else I would've been his next main course."

"Why do you think he's nutty?" asked Mary.

"Because in some of the pictures, he does a lot of crazy stuff," said the man. "One of them has him dancing around in a wedding dress, and another has him talking to a finger puppet. He has three puppets, to be precise, and sometimes he'll be seen with all three of them on his deformed claws."

"Hmm, yes," said Mary. "I seem to have noticed his puppets. And I think he told me that he gave them names."

"As far as rumor has it, he likes mistreating those puppets a lot," said the man. "He often gnaws on them for punishment or throws them in the dirt. Who even does that to a puppet? It's like mistreating an action figure or a rag doll or something. And don't even ask me where he got that dress, because I don't want to know."

"Goodness," said Mary. She wasn't quite sure what to think of all this. She knew her father was a little weird, but how this photographer described him was a lot weirder. There had to be a reason as to why SF was doing all those strange things, but Mary didn't know what it was. She looked at SF's shack from the corner of her eye, and she suddenly remembered that she had to return so she could show SF what she had brought for their dinner.

"Anyway," said the man. "If you have a moment, would you like to see the photos I've been taking?"

"Um…Sorry," said Mary. "I'd love to, but I can't right now. I have to get home in time for dinner. I don't want my father to be waiting for too long. Maybe another time."

"Oh, alright, that's fine by me," said the man. "My name's Andy, by the way. It was nice to meet you."

"Yes, we had a good talk," said Mary. "But I must get going now. See you!"

"Bye!" said Andy as Mary made a dash for the shack, clutching her satchel. She realized that she had been gone for a while, and she hoped she wasn't late. When she arrived at the shack, she opened the door and stepped inside, where SF was putting a fish onto a pan.

"Father, I'm back from town," said Mary. "And I brought some food. I hope it's enough for both of us."

"Good, good," said SF. "What did you bring?"

"I brought some beef jerky, clams, and grape punch," said Mary, looking through her satchel. "There was a nice man at a restaurant who gave me beef jerky for free, though I don't know why. I also met a girl who gave me a bushel of clams and a bottle of grape punch."

"Is that all?" asked SF.

"No," said Mary. "I think I got some onions, too."

"Good," said SF again. "They'll make a perfect side dish for the fish I'm going to be cooking for dinner. I heard they taste much better when they're fried. Will you go prepare them while I get the oven ready?"

"Yes, father," said Mary. She took the onions out of her satchel and placed them on the counter. But she couldn't reach the knife drawer because she was so short, so she grabbed a stool to get a knife to cut the onions with. The knife, like most of the other utensils SF had, was a little rusty, but it worked perfectly well. Surprisingly, even though onions have a strong smell that makes people's eyes water, Mary's eyes didn't get a tad bit watery as she chopped them up. It was probably because she was getting used to how bad her house smelled, so she was sure the bad stench of raw onions didn't make a difference.

As Mary chopped some of the onions to fry them, she could hear SF speaking in a foreign language that she didn't recognize. She had no idea why he was doing that, but she had to focus on helping him get dinner ready. He expected her to be a good, obedient daughter, after all. Once the onions were chopped up, Mary found a pan to fry them on the stove.

Suddenly, as she was preparing the stove so she could fry the onions, she heard a knock at the door. Mary leapt from her stool to get it, since she knew her father was a little too busy to answer the door himself. As she opened it, she saw a teenage boy with a pink varsity jacket holding a little suitcase.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm selling chocolate bars for my high school fundraiser," said the boy. "I've sold some to almost all the houses in my neighborhood, especially the ones down the hill, and this seemed to be the only house left. Do you think you'd like to buy some chocolates?"

"I don't know," said Mary. "I might have to ask my father about that one."

Then she turned her head and called out, "Father, there's a boy at the door selling chocolate bars! Do you want to buy any?"

In his drug-influenced state, SF walked over to the door and saw the varsity boy holding a chocolate bar to sell.

"My goodness, I think the heavens must have sent you," said SF. But he didn't want to buy a chocolate bar. Instead, he needed the boy's help getting the fish into the oven because he couldn't seem to put it in himself.

"I've got a fish cooking in the oven," he said. "But...I just can't reach it. It's right at the back. With your supple, little frame, you might be able to squeeze in and get it for me."

Mary was perplexed by her father's request, because she knew he could easily put the fish into the oven with his long arms and strangely-shaped hands. Or was it because he had poor vision? She couldn't really say for sure. As the boy opened the oven to put the fish in, SF got distracted by a rusty nail jutting out of the wall and reached to caress it, and the oven door slammed shut. Luckily, the boy was able to get the fish in just in time and jumped out of the way. Mary turned on the oven since her father was too distracted by the nail to do it himself. Suddenly, SF impaled his finger on the spike of the nail, causing it to bleed (his finger, I mean. Not the nail). But since SF was all tripped out on drugs, he didn't feel much pain. Mary and the varsity boy watched in shock as SF turned pale and passed out.

"Your dad sure is weird," said the varsity boy.

"I know," said Mary. "I have no idea what's going on in that head of his, but for some reason, anything involving rust gives him pleasure."

"I've never seen anyone so obsessed with rusty metal," said the boy. "And I wonder why he didn't feel pain when he impaled his finger."

"Beats me," said Mary.

"It must have really gone through the skin," said the boy. "Look at how much he's bleeding!"

"Oh, that's not good," said Mary.

"Should you get a bandage for him?" asked the boy.

"A bandage? I…don't think I have any," said Mary.

"Oh," said the boy. "Well, in that case, I should probably get going before he fills the whole room with blood. But first, I should give you the candy bar I was going to sell."

"Allright, hand it over," said Mary. "I don't have any money to give you, anyway."

"Here you go," said the boy, taking a chocolate bar out of his suitcase. "Free of charge. Have a nice day!"

The boy gave a chocolate bar to Mary and ran out of the house as quickly as possible. Once he was out of there, Mary decided to save the chocolate for later. For now, she had to get started on frying the onions while the fish was cooking. The fish wouldn't be done until an hour or so, which gave Mary some time to fry the onions. It took her about half an hour to cook them until they were a nice golden brown. But while she was frying them, she heard her father singing to himself in his sleep. She couldn't make out the words because they sounded slightly mumbly, as SF was asleep while he was singing, but from what she could hear, the song was apparently about rainbows. She had no idea what that song was, or what a rainbow was, but she really didn't like it. To her, the song SF was singing sounded way too cheery for the grim conditions he and his daughter were living under.

"Father, will you keep it down?" she hissed. "I'm trying to finish frying the onions!"

But SF couldn't hear her, and continued to sing. Mary groaned out of displeasure and tried as hard as she could to ignore it. Once the onions were a nice golden brown, Mary turned the stove off and set the pan aside so that she could serve them with the fish once it was ready. As she was putting the stool away, the oven began to smoke, implying that the fish was ready. At that moment, SF woke up, looking very pale and sitting in a large puddle of his own blood.

"That fish smells about done," he said.

"It is, father," said Mary. "You'd better get it out of the oven before it burns to a crisp."

Since the effects of the drugs were starting to wear off on him, SF got up and went over to the oven to turn it off. As he was taking the fish out of the oven, Mary was shocked to see how much blood was on the floor. She sighed, knowing that she should've done something to stop the bleeding, but she didn't. It wasn't her fault that SF didn't have any first aid kits lying about in his house. Apparently, he didn't care much about taking care of himself.

"I'll go get a mop…" she muttered. While she cleaned all the blood off the floor, SF chopped the fish up and placed it on plates, making sure to put the sliced onions on the side. After Mary had mopped the floor nice and clean, she got out two glasses and filled them with grape punch. She sat down at the table to eat as SF served their dinner.

"Here you go, Mary," he said. "Eat up."

Mary had no idea how a cooked fish was supposed to be eaten, so she picked it up with her hands and took a bite out of it. That was how SF ate his fish, so why not try it herself? It didn't taste too bad, so she took a few more bites, until she felt something crunch in her mouth. She spat it out and saw that it was a fish bone. Apparently, SF never bothered to remove the bones while he was cutting up the fish.

"Ew!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know the fish you cooked had crunchy white parts in it!"

"Those are bones, my dear," said SF as he took a bite out of the fish. "They're the tastiest part of a fish, or any animal in particular. They have marrow inside that's quite buttery and creamy."

Feeling disgusted that her father found bones to be appetizing, Mary decided she had enough fish, and started eating the fried onions on the side instead. At least they didn't have any bones.

"What's the matter, Mary?" asked SF. "Do you not want any more fish?"

"I don't think so," said Mary. "Seeing you sleep in your own blood made me lose my appetite. I can't believe you don't have anything that could've been used to stop the bleeding."

"Ah, it was just a flesh wound," said SF. "It just needed a little dirt rubbed on it."

"A little? Yeah, right…" snorted Mary. She took a hearty swig of grape punch to wash down the fried onions before pushing her plate aside. "Here, father, you can have the rest of my fish."

"Why, thank you," said SF, taking the fish and gobbling it up. Mary sighed, putting away the grape punch bottle in the refrigerator. After SF had finished his dinner, he got up from his chair, allowing Mary to grab the dishes and throw them into the sink for cleaning.

"Alright, Mary dear," said SF. "It's time for bed."

"Now?" said Mary.

"You need to get some rest after such a long day fetching some food from the town."

"Yeah, I guess I am kind of exhausted," said Mary. "Do you have a bed I can sleep in?"

"Yes, I have a bed," said SF. "But you shall not sleep in it. There's not enough room for you. Instead, you will be sleeping in…the safety cupboard."

He pointed at a crawlspace on the floor. Mary couldn't help but look in disbelief. Why would anyone want to sleep under the floor? It couldn't possibly be that comfortable.

"You want me to sleep in there?" she asked, pointing to the crawlspace.

"Yes," said SF. "It's the only other resting place in this house."

"Why can't we just switch it up?" asked Mary. "How about you take the safety cupboard and I'll take the bed?"

"Absolutely not," said SF, sternly. "It is my bed, and I will not allow anyone else to sleep in it, except for my puppets. If you disobey me and try to crawl into my bed instead of staying in the cupboard, I shall punish you severely. Do you understand?"

Mary gulped, knowing that her father was being very serious about this. There was no point arguing with him over who would get the bed or the crawlspace, so all she could do was nod her head to show that she understood.

"Y-yes, father," she said. "I will sleep in the safety cupboard."

"Good girl," said SF, walking over to the crawlspace and opening the door. "Now, off to bed you go."

Feeling a little reluctant, Mary stepped into the crawlspace. Surprisingly, she was able to fit into it quite well, since she was such a small girl. Before he shut the door, SF tossed in a pillow and one of his puppets.

"Don't worry, Mary, you will not be sleeping alone," he said. "Marjory Stewart-Baxter will be keeping you company tonight. Sleep well now."

Then he closed the door and went off to bed. Sitting in the small crawlspace, Mary adjusted her pillow and tried to make herself as comfortable as possible. Although it was dark, dank, and kind of cramped, she managed to fall asleep once she got in the right position. As she drifted off, Mary thought to herself, "This is my life now." She was still a fairly new creation, but there was so much she had learned about the world around her. She still had some doubts about how her father was raising her, though, but she hoped it would improve eventually. If not, she wasn't sure how many days she would be able to last with him.

But at least she had Marjory keeping her safe.