Chapter 11:...Comes Around

Flippy was lounging in the scooter's sidecar, legs crossed with his arms behind his head. His good mood was cautiously creeping back.

The day was almost over, no one had died in some idiotic manner, and he only had less than a handful of his friends to be concerned about now.

And he had the greatest idea ever. All he needed was to get back home and find that quill.

But actually, he had changed his mind on something. Just a little bit.

Why couldn't he do a little more? Some of his friends hadn't been as lucky as the others.

Cuddles had gotten injured. Petunia's house had been moderately damaged. Toothy wound up with his tail torn off.

Sniffles had lost his rob—ahh, well maybe that loss was more of a win, really.

His winning idea was to write minor corrections in the Book to resolve his friends' grievances. And other than fixing his own unsavory tendencies, that'd be the only thing he used that Writer's Quill for. In his heart there was no further temptation on the matter.

What do I do with that quill when I'm done with it? he wondered. It'd be easier to hide than the Book. Maybe I can bury it somewhere in the forest.

And what about the other authors?

Were there really three other little worms out there, currently scrabbling to find the Book of the World? Was their office still in a pocket dimension underneath his basement? Would they immediately suspect him?

Well, maybe he could save those questions for another day. He knew one thing—if he ran into any of them he'd take care of them for good.

And currently, he was one hundred percent fine with Flaky side-eying him. She'd been doing it the whole ride.

He had to fight a smile every time he felt them drifting side-to-side, like she was taking her eyes off the road to really ogle him. He considered popping up and yelling 'boo' just to mess with her, but he'd noticed she had a quick release lever for the scooter's sidecar. Yeah, he could pass on eating asphalt right now.

It was in her nature to be cautious, but, out of all of his other friends, he respected her level of self-awareness. Especially after today. Sure, animals had been put in compromised positions, but more than half the crap that happened could've been avoided if they'd looked further past their noses.

Even if she wasn't a time lord and didn't remember every single time he'd murdered her, he was not surprised or offended in the slightest that she was being careful around him.

It's a good thing she hasn't seen her past deaths. That would be…really awkward, he thought.

Yeah, they'd killed each other before. Well mostly, he'd killed her. Intents (ranging from unbridled fury on his end to complete paranoia on hers) aside, that'd be a weird conversation to have.

They turned a corner. Flippy raised his head out of his arms. Here came another opportunity, long before the resident mime realized he needed real matches.

"Can you pull over?" he asked. Outside of his tent nearby was Mime, who was fiddling with his big red rocket. Or maybe it was a firecracker—apparently he hadn't considered anything with Lumpy's face on it to be something to approach with reasonable caution.

Flippy shook his head lightly as he hopped out of the sidecar. That was the power of the written word, able to overcome federal law—it was the only explanation as to how Lumpy of all animals was licensed to make and sell explosives.

Mime was pretending to light the fuse, clearly getting frustrated and oblivious to the position of his feet. Flippy came up behind him and calmly unwound the fuse from around the deer's ankles. That was the deception. The fuse.

It was unreasonably long, but once it was lit it'd burn up at light speed and make the explosive detonate much, much earlier than anticipated. It was the kind of thing Flippy saw in the slapstick cartoons he watched.

When he tried telling Mime, the deer laughed silently and shook his head. Flaky watched from the street, wide-eyed and rapt.

"I'll show you," Flippy said calmly, gesturing for his friend to stand on the sidewalk. He promised Mime that if he was wrong, he'd buy the deer dinner. Mime practically skipped to the sidewalk.

The bear let out an exhale, ignoring his aches and pains as he dove into the ground. After a few minutes he'd dug a pit three times his height. He dumped the firecracker at the bottom, making sure to trail the yards-long fuse out as far as it would stretch. He actually ended up on the sidewalk with the other two.

Whistling to himself, Flippy pulled out a pack of matches, lit one, and brought it to the fuse. Only the tip burned innocently for all but two seconds before the entire fuse seemed to spontaneously combust, searing a burning trail through the grass and into the pit.

The three animals were jolted off the ground when the firecracker exploded, coughing smoke and brilliant sparks out of the hole.

Flippy lowered his watch, unamused. Not counting when he'd initially lit the fuse, that entire occurrence had happened under a second. That Bookworm sure did like cartoon physics.

He patted Mime on the head since the deer had fallen to his knees in shock, and made a new promise to take care of the damages soon.

Flippy then thanked Flaky for the lift and continued on by himself. His house wasn't that far. After Mime, who was next?

Ah—Lumpy. Flippy pulled out the Book and went to his page.

Some days you get the bear, other days the bear gets you!

That was vexing. Unlike most of the other previous entries, there were no notes or details with the general descriptor. Flippy also wasn't sure if he should've read the entry literally or figuratively.

He did finally notice something; the moose was sandwiched by bears on both sides. Flippy himself on one side of the fence, and Pop and Cub on the other. That was pretty funny.

It seemed like whatever nonsense Lumpy had coming to him was out of mind and sight. It made Flippy a little nervous because he wasn't sure what to expect. He would need to keep a close eye on his neighbor.

The Book of the World briefly came to life, flipping to a new page.

She's coming.

"Huh?"

She's coming for you again, mate.

Flippy glanced over his shoulder, startled. He shut the Book and put it under his arm. Why was Flaky still following him? Did he owe her money or something? Was he about to get shot or hit over the head with a bat?

He tried to play it casually and stopped right before she caught up. Her expression was a mix of mortification and curiosity.

"...how did you know that was going to happen?" she asked, rather boldly and to the point.

"Knew what?"

She pointed back towards Mime's direction. Flippy stuttered, attempting to discreetly move the Book behind his back. But for whatever reason the Book found the entire thing funny and was jittering like it was laughing. It actually slipped out of his grasp and onto the pavement. Flaky eyed it.

Flippy swiped the Book up. It vibrated twice like a cell phone.

"Someone's calling. One second!" Flippy took off and barged through his front door, slamming it shut. "What are you doing!?" he hissed to the Book.

You might as well relax. She's obviously figured something out, it said. She's asking because she wants to hear it from the horse's mouth.

You're trapped. What are you going to do, lie to her?

With a scoff Flippy threw his hands up, unable to fathom a better response.

Yeah, I know you're not a horse. And that I said I didn't want others to know about my powers.

You're an exception. But she would be the only other one, if push comes to shove. You both are the most rational out of everyone here, duh.

"But-But…"

It's not in her nature to want to be pointlessly destructive or irresponsible. What's the harm in her knowing? Wouldn't you trust her the most out of all of your friends with me?

"…I would," Flippy admitted.

The only other matter is…would she be able to keep a secret?

Makes me feel like either we blew our cover at some point, or she noticed how weird the circumstances were when you helped her. Paranoia and curiosity don't mix well. She'll likely stalk you until she gets concrete answers, if she hasn't been doing that already. I feel like she has been.

"Oh, my…" Flippy groaned, rubbing his face. Here they went again.

He did not need his own paranoia to be aggravated. His instability and her neurotic tendencies made for another bad combination. He didn't want to get stabbed in the eye but also didn't want to fly off the handle and accidentally murder her.

The Book nudged his hands down from his face. Cheer up. If it bothers you that much, then you could just write in me and make her forget—

"NO!" he shouted. He wasn't going to be altering or erasing memories. That was what the Bookworms had been doing to them all as a form of gaslighting. That was a boundary he would not cross.

Alright, alright, I figured, just putting that out there! Wow. That takes some skill, interrupting unspoken words, The Book said. You have to make a call, champ. Can't keep a secret and eat it by yourself, you know.

"That's not…"

Flippy thudded his head back on the door. Whatever. He didn't have time to be educating a book on phrases older than his dead grandmother. Pondering and pining, he wandered around his house for a little longer, then finally left the Book in the kitchen. As he stepped outside he grunted under his breath, annoyed. Flaky was next to his mailbox now.

…she's definitely been following me around, Flippy thought grimly. He walked slowly, trying to keep his tone even. "Okay. There's…I have to show you something."

She stared at him blankly, idly shifting her head to the side. Flippy groaned, pointing over his shoulder. "…inside," he finished.

Flaky sat deeper in her seat. Flippy grinned sheepishly, shrugging. He told her it wasn't something he could show her when there could be witnesses.

To his surprise she set her jaw, looking faintly perturbed as she muttered, "Alright."

She hopped off her scooter. Flippy was in shock as he led the way back. What was happening? She was being weird. Too forward. Why was she so obsessed with this?

And she was acting without influence, out of her own free will. It wasn't like there was anything currently written in the Book that would've dictated how she was feeling or thinking at the moment.

Flippy felt like he had gone topsy-turvy, like reality had managed to find a way to turn on its head even after a day of him trying to prevent it from doing so.

He almost crashed into his door from how hard he was daydreaming. He thought about doing it anyway to unsettle or scare her, but she was a friend he didn't want to estrange. It wasn't as if he wanted her to be afraid of him, though unfortunately that may have been the best option for her safety.

He took his time getting to the Book. Flaky stood on the foyer with her hands together, apparently refusing to come in further. She had still closed the door behind her.

Flippy was impressed that she'd made it harder to leave if she needed to run. He sighed heavily. She was sending way too many mixed signals, but if she was going to be this obstinate…

He set the Book on the coffee table and kept it closed with a hand. She stuck her head out, awestruck.

…should I really start from when I fell? he thought.

He may as well. He needed to start at the beginning of the bizarre maze of events. With an even tone he started to explain everything to her, starting from when he'd fallen through reality.

He couldn't be certain of how much Flaky heard or understood. She slowly got closer, looking dazed and confused as she kept her eyes on the Book. She snapped to when he said:

"…and when someone writes in it, things will come true."

She gaped at him. Flippy cringed, briefly explaining his encounter with the Bookworm, Stan, before opening the Book and letting Flaky see the impossible—the scenarios and times where she and the others had previously died. He forced himself to not look at her expression and turned away to stare out the window. The Book slid out from underneath his fingertips slowly as she pulled it to herself.

He had a knot of mixed feelings in his stomach. It was a relief talking to someone else about it, but what was to come of it? He began to wonder if he should've lied, but that wouldn't have felt right either.

What he noticed was that she seemed to take his words for face value the moment he'd begun speaking. Flippy huffed to himself in acknowledgment. The Book was right. She'd just been looking for concrete answers and trusted he wouldn't lie to her.

Flippy shook his head pleasantly to himself. This whole thing was a little funny. Fantastical items weren't a thing everyone believed in, after all. With a slight chuckle he looked back over.

Flaky was on her page. She had a finger to the Book and was staring ahead, white-eyed.

He immediately freaked out. He shook her, tried moving the Book, but it was like her finger was glued to the page.

He slowly let go of her, backing away in defeat. He knew exactly what was happening.

That bastard Book! It was showing her something it shouldn't have!

I didn't want this! What's going to happen now?!

Flippy paced for what seemed like forever. It was dark by now.

How MUCH is it showing her?! he wondered. And why? It's way too soon! It would've always been too soon...

Thud.

Flippy stopped and turned. The Book was on the floor, rifling its pages irritably. Flaky was gone. He could hear drawers opening and closing in the kitchen.

He carefully crept over, poking his head around the corner. The first thing he saw was a knife in his face.

"STAY BACK!" Flaky screamed. She had pulled the biggest blade in the kitchen and was moving in on him.

"Damn!" Flippy leapt back into his living room, baring his teeth. His head pounded with delusion. He had to fight spiraling, again.

He stumbled over his coffee table and hit the floor like a horror movie protagonist. He shut his eyes tight, trying his hardest to stay grounded.

Flaky crept out of the kitchen with the knife shaking in her hand. "D-Don't move!" she stammered, inching for the door, watching him closely for the instant it looked like she would need to defend herself.

"Okay," Flippy groaned, grasping at his head. "Just…argghh! GO!"

He heard the flutter of pages, and Flaky gasping. The Book of the World was hovering in between them. Flippy watched carefully through the crack of one eye, tense. Whatever the Book was telling her caused her to very slowly and steadily lower the knife. It was going to slip out of her hand.

He didn't even want to hear it. He put his back to them and covered his ears, moments before it clattered to the ground.

He didn't allow himself to see or hear for the next five minutes. Flaky was staring through him, far into space. The Book of the World was floating off to the side.

Flippy used his armchair to stagger up, still short of breath. All he was going to do was tell the Book to nudge the knife back into the kitchen. Even though Flaky was cationic he didn't want to risk getting an inch closer.

Before he could beckon the Book close something flashed out the corner of his vision. Flippy turned his head, reflecting a pair of bright headlights in his eyes.

A car, out of nowhere, was now barreling through his front yard, flashing its lights blindingly…and then something in his head clicked.

Flippy been so busy the entire day, he hadn't bothered to look closer at his own page.

This time of year, he went to sleep early. And he would often sleep in his armchair just as much as he would his bed. He really, really should have been asleep by now...but he had planned on doing surveillance on Lumpy, which would have placed him anywhere but right where he was standing then.

It just so turned out, in the worst twist of luck, he wound back up in the perfect position to get killed. At least the realization had hit him mentally before it would physically.

Flaky could see now. After the terrifying things the Book had shown her, reminded her of, she almost felt like a time lord.

Her instincts had been screaming at her for so long for reasons she couldn't have possibly known until now. Her nightmares hadn't just been dreams. She was right to be fearful of Flippy, but now she pitied him in a way.

He has issues, just like you. He's trying to make it, just like you. The Book had told her. This is what you've been looking for, right? The truth? We've given it to you.

You can either accept it or not, but I know one thing—don't come into this man's house threatening him, alright? Just like you and the others, he's been written into bad situations.

Don't put him in another one, or you'll end up causing the very thing you fear him for!

So what are you going to do? Stand there helpless all night, or find the strength to roll with the punches?

The bellowing of a car horn snapped her out of it. She still felt so hazy, disassociated. The Book of the World quivered violently at her. Flaky recalled then...

When she'd been looking through the profiles of her friends, Flippy had something peculiar written on his page in new, glistening ink.

Déjà vu, ala car!

Right now he was immobilized in blinding lights, staring death in the face.

With a scream Flaky darted. She tackled Flippy off his feet and they both hit the ground hard, rolling.

A car violently collided into the house, barreling through the living room. It demolished the armchair and finally came to a crashing halt against the wall, weakly flickering its broken headlights.

Flaky's heart was zooming. She picked herself up, cautious.

Flippy slowly opened his eyes, like he couldn't believe he wasn't dead. He looked astounded to find her on top of him.

"I…u-uh," she stammered. "Uh…"

A large chunk of drywall crumbled in the following silence. The occupant of the car could be heard fumbling with the door handle.

"…thanks," Flippy said in amazement.

She glanced away, redder in the face. "You're welcome."