Note: It's not fully necessary to understand the joke, but for context: Treva is about to get really, really mad about the concept of someone having the ability to reset to save points when they die. The hypothetical future in question here is a reference to LordVishnu's A Gamer In South Blue, where this happens.

XXX

Kid isn't sure why or where he and his crew picked up their first transponder snail, to be honest. It might have been Boogie's idea, or maybe Mosh's; they grew up in the city, and sometimes it feels like they're determined not to let anyone within earshot forget it. It had made sense at the time, anyway. A modern pirate crew was bound to need a modern comms rig, eventually. That's what Kid had thought.

Whatever the case, they've been through three of the things now.

The fourth transponder snail, which some of the others have been calling Sally, meets Kid's hate-filled glare with bland, unblinking disinterest. As Kid stares the awful animal down, arms crossed over his chest and a vein pulsing in his neck in fury, the only sound to echo through the Victoria Punk's kitchen is the incessant ringing of an incoming call.

"Kid," Killer starts, hesitant, from where he's sitting at one of the island stools. He's stationed himself fairly close to the enclosure where they've left the other three snails, actually. They might need a dedicated comms room soon after all, at this rate, and somebody who actually knows how to handle transponder snails. "This is getting ridiculous."

"I know that," Kid grinds out through his teeth. He doesn't look away from the snail. "Shut up."

Killer, undeterred, pokes the shell of one of the other ones dubiously. "We could just sell these. Lots of pirate crews get by just fine without a transponder snail."

He's right, of course, but Kid didn't get to where he is by being a quitter. Instead of responding to his partner, he growls, low and angry in the back of his throat, and answers the ringing transponder snail with such violence that the snail itself actually seems to raise a single, nonexistent brow at him in askance.

"What," Kid demands, "Do you WANT?"

"Like I've been telling you," yaps the gravely disapproving, high-pitched voice of a child. "I need to figure out what future we're gonna end up in! So what are your thoughts on baby murder?"

This it's how it's been for the past two. Goddamn. Weeks. The calls started out annoying, sure, and oddly persistent, but fairly harmless, Kid had figured. They'd probably stolen their first snail, anyway, so it might've been some snot-nosed brat trying to prank the previous owner. After the fifth call, they blocked the incoming number and moved on with their lives.

And then they started getting calls from a different, unrelated number. Same voice on the other end. They blocked it again.

A day later? Another call. A new number.

It was getting stupid, so Kid thought, what the hell. He handed the first transponder snail over to Killer, maybe to sell off, and got a new one, just so his mystery stalker couldn't have the satisfaction of deplatforming him. (Nevermind that Kid isn't super sure what that word means, in the first place. It sounds embarrassing, though.)

That was when Killer picked up the receiver on a whim and realized that, hey, wait a minute.

This motherfucker, beyond making entirely no sense, knew things they had absolutely no business knowing.

Their ship's location in real time. Their operations. Even crew members' past experiences! Nothing was off the table for this bastard, least of all Kid's number. As soon as Killer had hung up on their gibberish, they rang up the new snail.

And that's what it's been like to be a Kid Pirate, for… three weeks soon, actually. Causing chaos and mayhem all throughout the South Blue, all the while this asshole dogs them every step of the way. Kid could've almost felt flattered, truthfully, if not for the infuriating little baby voice whoever this is insists on mocking him with every time they call.

"Why the fuck would I murder a baby?" Kid asks, genuinely at the end of his rope. Killer, where he's sat, sighs. "Do you have any idea how weak babies are? They can't do anything to me."

"Thank you." The person on the other end sounds frankly exasperated, and Kid imagines strangling them. "Listen. Listen, Kid, this is important. There's this guy, in your sea where you are, who definitely doesn't exist right now and statistically speaking probably isn't going to exist at all. But if he does, he'll be way too much trouble! So you should kill him."

Kid frowns. "Are you… trying to call a hit on this guy?"

"I guess." Short-lived rustling on the line informs Kid that the other person has shrugged. "I dunno how well I'd be able to keep track of this one thing he can do, and he's gonna be following you around everywhere and getting in your way, so it'd be good for both of us if he couldn't do those things." Some more shuffling. "I might've asked you to do this before, but we wouldn't remember. Or maybe I'm gonna ask you again later, but we wouldn't remember that either."

Kid mulls this over. In the meantime, silence stretches between them—between him, his arch nemesis on the phone, and Killer, who has reached the point of exchanging occasional commiserative glances with the transponder snails through his mask.

Eventually, Kid exhales slowly through his nose.

"So," he starts, "Somebody who I've never met, who's totally obsessed with me, who seems to inexplicably know a lot about me…"

The person on the other end audibly perks up. "Exactly!"

Kid slams his fist onto the countertop.

"WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT SOUND LIKE TO YOU?!"

"Hey! That's not fair!" The other guy actually has the stones to huff. "I like you!"

"HOW DID YOU EVEN GET THIS NUMBER?!"

X️XX ️ ️

Nami had just meant to pop down to the storage room, where Usopp and Treva had set up the transponder snail enclosure, to get Treva up to the kitchen for lunch. On a whim, Luffy tags along with her.

At the sight of Treva arguing spiritedly into one of the snails' receivers, they both stop at the door.

"Who is she even talking to?" Nami wonders.

"Dunno." Luffy tilts his head. "I think Usopp's mentioned her doing this before, though, so it's probably fine."

As they watch, the person on the other end starts yelling especially loudly, and Treva has to get up and put more distance between herself and the snail's body to avoid ear damage. As soon as she's able to get a word in edgewise, she starts yelling right back, aggrieved.

Nami sighs.

"I don't think I want to know."

XXX

Note: From now on, there's probably going to be an intermission after every arc, give or take. Most arcs won't be anywhere near as quick to get through as the Gaimon dimension, though, so it'll be a while until the next intermission.