In a subpar bistro in Seattle, Chelsea was busily preparing a steak for a customer. Having spent a few years in culinary school, Chelsea had high hopes when she moved to Seattle. Of course, she did not expect to end up working in what could only be described as an upscale greasy spoon with greasier clientele. If anything, she was really hoping to open her own restaurant, or perhaps a bakery. For now though, she was simply one of the chefs at a subpar bistro in Seattle. 

As she was placing a sprig of parsley on the steak, Chelsea heard one of the waiters call out to her, saying, “Hey Langly! You got another whiner who wants to speak with you.” Chelsea only huffed at this. This was not the first time someone complained about her cooking, not that she could not cook though. It was actually a matter of the customers forgetting one particular special request for their meal and blaming her for it when it did not come out the way they thought they ordered it. Regardless, it was far easier to listen to them bitch about their food than to actually argue with them. Resigning herself to her fate, Chelsea breathed deeply and made her way to the front of the bistro. 

When she arrived, Chelsea was shocked by what she saw. Sitting at the table was Chunko, one of the Seven New Gods (whom she dated recently), only he seemed... different. His eyes shined with a yellow light, small tusks poking up from his lower jaw, and his fingers were tipped with long, yellow claws. The most disturbing part were what appeared to be various tears in his body that seeped golden energy (most notably, the large tear straight through his waist, splitting his upper and lower half). Staring at the hulking lost soul, Chelsea was in shock of his monstrous nature. “Was he like this on our date?” she thought to herself nervously. “Good god.” 

Noticing the young troll girl, Chunko smiled as he said, “Well howdy Chelsea. I thought I’d find y’all here.” “Um, hey Chunko, I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” Chelsea said, surprised by the lost soul’s tears. “Actually, I haven’t seen you since our date. Where’ve you been?” “Oh I’ve been a bit busy back in Limbo,” Chunko explained. “Krockman asked me to oversee some construction on the outskirts of Babel, one of them torii gates. Ol’ Krockman’s bein cagey bout it too. Says he ain’t ready to talk about it yet.” “God, Krockman’s so weird,” Chelsea said, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to go deal with a customer complaining about my cooking.” “Actually, that was me,” Chunko said in reply. “And I wasn’t complainin. I just wanted to give my regards. This is one of the finest meals I’ve ever had.” Looking surprised, Chelsea said, “Really? You liked it that much?” “Course I did,” Chunko answered with a grin. “Your cookin is the finest meal I’ve had since Grand-mere Chunsky herself (bless her soul).” When Chelsea heard this, she felt proud of herself. 

As they were talking, Chunko noticed something strange happening at the table across from him. It was a young woman who was taking pictures of her poached salmon and leaving the table without having actually taken a bite. “What the hell is that?” Chunko asked, his voice filled with restrained rage. “That woman didn’t even touch her meal. All she did was take pictures of it.” “Oh yeah, that’s Carla,” Chelsea explained, casting a side glance at the woman. “Apparently, she used to work for a local newspaper. Now she spends her time food blogging. I’m use to it by now.” Confused by this, Chunko only shook his head, saying, “Well that ain’t right. Food as good as this demands to be eaten, not frou-froud and photographed like some high end poodle. I ain’t gonna let this stand!” Before Chelsea could say anything, Chunko got up from his table and marched over to Carla. 

At the counter, Carla was busy paying for her meal. As she was setting out her cash, she noticed the orc cashier leaning slightly to the side to see the uneaten salmon. “The hell are you looking at tusk face?” Carla retorted. “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?” “Uh, no, it’s just that you didn’t finish your meal,” the orc said in reply. “Was there something wrong with it?” Hearing this, Carla only smirked, saying, “I’m guessing you don’t view a lot of food blogs, do you?” “I do on occasion,” the orc answered. “It’s just, don’t people who run food blogs usually, y’know, eat the food?” “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Carla said with a condescending sneer. “As long as you can take a good picture of the food, you don’t have to actually eat it. It can sit there and rot for all I care.” When she said this, Carla heard a deep, booming, Southern voice say, “That’s by far the most disgraceful thing I’ve ever heard in all my days.” Turning around, she was surprised to see a flannel clad giant of a man glowering down at her. 

Looking up at the man, Carla nervously asked, “Um, can I help you?” “Pardon me ma’am,” the man said politely. “Folks call me Chunko. I’m a bit of a connoisseur of good cookin, and I’m quite a wiz at growin my own food. Now what’s this I hear bout y’all just leavin your food to rot?” Returning Chunko’s glare, Carla retorted, “Well Chunko, I really don’t see how it’s any of your business.” “Oh it is my business,” Chunko replied in a slightly annoyed tone. “You see, this meal was cooked by a fine young woman who just so happens to be standin right over there. We’re in a relationship of sorts. Point is, when y’all don’t even touch your meal after she went to the trouble of preparin it, y’all are basically slappin her in the face.” Hearing this, Chelsea quickly came over, saying, “Woah, woah, woah, hey Chunko, what do you think you’re doing?” Seeing Chelsea, Chunko grinned, saying, “Oh don’t you worry bout a thing, sugarplum. I’m just defendin your honor.” “Defending my honor?” Chelsea said, perplexed by this. “Dude, it’s just a salmon. It’s not that big of a deal. Just leave the obnoxious little hipster alone.” 

When she heard this, Carla grew angry. “Did you just call me ‘little’?” she asked, her voice filled with venom. “What? Oh, I didn’t mean anything by that,” Chelsea explained apologetically. “I was just...” “Hey! Let me tell you something lady,” Carla retorted, coming face to chest with the young troll. “I’ve beaten up bitches twice as big as you just to get into fights, and I’m not gonna take any crap from some underachieving ass fuck like you. Don’t you know who I am? I’m Carla Soman, and I’m gonna be big! You hear me?! I’m gonna be big!!!” As Carla was ranting, the two women heard a garbled, demonic sounding voice shout, “That tears it! Bitch, y’all gonna die!” Turning around, they were surprised to see a hulking frankensteinian monster standing where Chunko once stood. The creature was a massive brute, his green and yellow skin riddled with stitches and its face forced into a permanent sneer. The strangest part was that it seemed to be made up of locust parts, from his boots made up of locust abdomens, a locust head mounted on each shoulder, and two large tesla coils sprouting from his back formed from grasshopper legs crackling with electricity. Before Carla could say anything, the monster fired an enormous burst of electricity at her, sending her flying through the front window and knocking her out on the street. 

As Carla was coming to, she could hear people talking. They were familiar voices, the voices of Chunko and the troll girl. There was, however, a third voice, deep and smooth like a hustler. “So you just blasted her out of the restaurant just like that?” the third voice asked. “Yeah, well she was talkin shit about Chelsea. I couldn’t leave that lying down,” Chunko explained. “Besides Krockman, if someone talked shit about Roquella, you’d have done the same thing.” The troll girl, Chelsea, added, “Yeah, she even did that stupid ‘don’t you know who I am’ thing to me.” “Seriously?” the third voice, Krockman, asked. “Oh god, I’ve always wanted to do that just once.” “What a ‘don’t you know who I am’?” Chunko asked in a confused tone. “Yeah, but over something stupid like a pack of gum or a bag of skittles,” Krockman explained cheerfully. “Like I would argue about the price with the cashier and be like ‘don’t you fucking know who I am? I’m the fucking Krockman: reality warper extraordinaire. You do not talk to me that way’.” “Yeah, I get what you’re sayin,” Chunko said in reply. “I could see myself doin that at a Chic-fil-a on a Sunday, like I just walk up to some guy who’s just trimmin the bushes outside and be like, ‘Yeah, can I get some nuggets?’ and the guy’s like, ‘Dude, this place is closed today’. Then I just slowly take my sunglasses off and be like, ‘now, y’all may not’ve recognized me with my sunglasses on, but seriously, I warp reality for a livin, and I provide food for an entire empire, alright. Just... just... I can’t even. Just bring the nuggets to my car’.” “Yeah it’s the stretch hummer,” Krockman interjected while giggling. “It’s the one parked in all the handicap spots and it has a bumper sticker of a sad owl saying ‘I don’t give a hoot. I pollute.’” At the point, the group simply broke into uproarious laughter. 

Having enough of this, Carla shouted, “Hey idiots! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Seeing that the woman was up, the three turned to see her. Carla could see the third member of the group Krockman, a lanky, scruffy faced man in a trench coat, green polo, and blue jeans. She could also see that they were no longer on the street, but in some sort of warehouse. “Where are we?” Carla asked worriedly. “Did... did you guys do something to me while I was out?!” “Yeah, don’t flatter yourself. You’re not our type,” Krockman retorted, only for Chelsea to roll her eyes and Chunko to mutter “Jesus” under his breath. “Not your type? What the hell’s that suppose to mean?” Carla yelled as she got up and marched over to the group, only to notice something strange. Beforehand, she was only tall enough to look Chelsea in the chest, but now she was easily a head taller than the young troll (with her suddenly smaller clothes serving as a testament to her new height). 

Eyeing the troll and taking a moment to compare their height, Carla asked, “Weren’t you taller before?” “Yeah, I was,” Chelsea answered, folding her arms across her chest. “You’ve grown taller.” “I’m sorry, but how is that possible?” Carla asked, more confused than ever. “I think I can answer that,” Chunko interjected. “Do y’all remember what you said before I blasted you back in the restaurant? Specifically, what y’all said you were gonna be?” Thinking back to before she got shocked, Carla answered, “I said I was going to be... big.” “Exactly,” Chunko said in reply with a nod. “And that’s what my morphonic shock did: it made you big. Course, it made y’all big in the sense that you can pick up a watermelon with one hand, but all’s fair in love and magic as they say.” Looking down at her own body and taking in her new height, Carla smiled as she said, “Well, I can’t complain. I’m looking fine.” 

Hearing this, Krockman only rolled his eyes saying, “Yeah, near infinite, cosmic powers, and all you want is some extra height. I mean seriously, is height that big of a deal for you?” “It’s a huge deal, you idiot,” Carla retorted. “Besides, I’m doing pretty good for myself.” “Oh yeah, nothing says ‘successful career’ like taking pictures of food that you’re not even going to eat,” Krockman said sarcastically. “Of course, one’s options tend to be limited when one gets fired from a high paying journalism job for doing nothing but yellow journalism.” Looking surprised, Carla asked, “How do you know about that?” “I can smell your baggage lady,” Krockman explained. “And believe me, your baggage stinks.” Chunko nodded to this as he added, “Ain’t no greater shame than a journalist stoopin that low.” “W-well fuck that,” Carla retorted, though she was noticeably unnerved. “I got ripped off, okay. I had to get a story out for the paper. It’s not my fault someone ended up jumping off the Space Needle because of it.” The others only stared on in horror, with Krockman muttering, “Jesus Christ.” 

Suddenly, Carla’s phone went off, breaking the awkward silence that was hanging in the room. Looking down at her pocket, she quickly pulled it out and answered, saying, “Hello... yes, this is she... really? You actually mean it? Oh my god, you have no idea how grateful I am for this opportunity. Thank you. I’ll see you in thirty minutes.” Hanging up the phone, Carla smiled smugly at the group. “What was that about?” Krockman asked in a bored tone. “I’m glad you asked,” Carla said in reply. “That was a call from my old boss. He wants to hirer me back. All I have to do is to clean up my act and I’m golden. Plus, I got my new height thanks to you. How’s that for my baggage, you trench coat wearing freak?” Krockman only smiled at this, turning towards Chunko and said, “You hear that Chunko? She says she’s golden.” “Oh yeah. Course she is,” Chunko said in reply, folding his arms across his chest. “Question is though, how is she gonna get to her interview if she can’t fit through the door?” “What are you talking about now you...” Carla said, stopping mid sentence when she noticed something strange. Chunko, Who practically towered over her when they first met, was now looking up at her, only as high as her chest. “How’s the weather up there?” the Cajun lost soul asked sarcastically. 

Looking down at her own body, Carla was shocked to see that she had grown some more, only this time, her body had changed in other ways. Her legs had become thick and pillar-like to support her new bulk. Her skin was now a pale orange with small stony growths on her shoulders. Her ears were long like those of a rabbit. Her clothes were torn and barely covered her body. Panicking, Carla started shouting, “What?! What did you do to me!? I’m a freak!!! I can’t wear my clothes anymore!!! I can’t use my phone!!! I-I-I can’t leave this warehouse!!!” As she was panicking, the group looked on with bored looks on their faces (Except for Chelsea, who was understandably disturbed by all this). “Welp, I think our work here is done,” Krockman said, signaling the group to leave. “Enjoy you’re life as a giantess.” “You can’t just leave me like this!” Carla shouted, practically weeping as the others made their way to the door. “You have to change me back! Please!!! I’ll be a good person from now on! I’ll never ask for anything else again! Please, just make me small again!” “Oh but you are small, my dear,” Chunko said in a condescending tone. “Whenever y’all were an honest, decent person, that’s when y’all were big; but now... well, they just don’t come any smaller.” With that, Chunko and the rest of the group left the warehouse, leaving Carla alone... trapped. 

As they were walking away, Chelsea looked back towards the warehouse with concern. “So are we really just gonna... leave her there?” she asked worriedly. “I mean, she’s an awful person, but still.” Looking back at the building, Krockman answered, “She’s fine. Someone will find her eventually. Honestly, I’m surprised this whole thing was over your cooking.” “Krockman, y’all gotta believe me,” Chunko interjected. “This woman’s cookin is the finest thing I’ve tasted since Grand-mere Chunsky’s.” “Wow, you don’t say that too often,” Krockman said, sounding impressed. “Last time I said that about anything, you got so pissed you punched a hole through a wall.” “Oh yeah, I kid you not,” Chunko continued proudly. “Finest food I’ve ever tasted.” “Fascinating,” Krockman said, rubbing his chin before turning towards Chelsea and asking, “Hey Chelsea, how good are you baking cakes? Me and Roquella still need a baker for the wedding.” Growing interested, Chelsea asked, “That depends, how much are you willing to pay?” Impressed, Krockman smiled a shrewd smile as he said to himself, “And now we play the haggling game.” 

As the trio left, a middle aged man (who had secretly watched the whole affair play out) stepped towards the warehouse. He was a well dressed man with a well trimmed, gray beard, clearly a man of class and sophistication. He calmly adjusted his glasses as he pulled out his phone, dialed in 911, and after waiting a few seconds answered, “Hello, operator. I’ve stumbled upon a situation. A giantess is trapped in a warehouse on the corner of 5th and Pike Street... You’re sending the fire department? Thank you. We’re all grateful for this.” With that, the man hung up his phone and looked down the street towards Krockman and the others. “Never thought I’d make a call like that in my life,” the man said to himself. “What exactly is your endgame here, Mr. Krockman?” 
————————— 

Later, back in Limbo, Emily was finding herself in some seriously hot water. When she came to (having been knocked out by Bathory and Lolita), she found herself trapped in a cage hanging in what appeared to be a kitchen. Looking around, she saw Bathory and Lolita preparing what appeared to be various syringes and clubs. “What is this?” Emily asked worriedly. “What are you two doing?” Glancing back at the drok with a sultry look in her eyes, Lolita said, “Well, you woke up early. What a pity.” “Don’t worry about her Lolita,” Bathory interjected. “It’s much more enjoyable when they’re awake.” 

“What the hell’s going on?!” Emily shouted. “Why am I in a cage?!” “How cute. You have no idea what’s about to happen,” Bathory said in a condescending tone. “You’re in that cage because you made me angry. Now Lolita and I are about to fix that.” Looking confused, Emily asked, “Fix it? Wait, you mean when I called you out back in the dining room? You’re going to torture me because of that?” Glaring at Emily, Bathory retorted, “I told you before, no one talks to me like that. I’m just going to make sure you don’t forget it.” “Oh well forgive me for standing up for Teddi and Jojo,” Emily retorted sarcastically. “It’s called being motherly. That’s something you wouldn’t understand.” 

Hearing this, Bathory grew incensed, rushing towards the cage, grabbing the bars and screaming, “I was a mother!!!” Stunned by this, Emily quickly backed away from the mad woman, watching as her face contorted from one of wrath to one of melancholic despair. “I was young when I married Misfit. That was long before he went by that ridiculous moniker,” Bathory explained in a subdued tone. ”Back then, he was Preston Fairbanks, and he had so much potential. He was the heir to a vast textile company, but then... we to a circus, and he became enamored with circus life. He threw away his future, became that idiotic clown, befriended that goddamn pinhead, Jojo, and I became resigned to selling tickets to the dregs of society while my husband brushed me off for that freak. When Jojo finally died, I thought I could make a profit by selling his head to an oddities museum, salvage something from my miserable life. But Misfit found out what was happening, and he ended up shooting the acrobat and the strongman that I hired, and shot himself before the cops came. In the end, I... I couldn’t live with the guilt, and I hung myself in my ticket booth.” Feeling awkward, Emily asked, “Um, I’m sorry for... all of that, but what does that have to do with you being a mom? Sighing a bit, Bathory continued, “I was in my forties when we had our first child, a little girl. Naturally, I didn’t feel that the circus was a good place for a child to grow up. Misfit, as usual, thought of nothing but his own priorities. I wanted more for her, so when Misfit wasn’t looking, I took her to a nearby orphanage and left her there, just so she could live a better life. And when I died and faced judgment from the heavenly court, that one single act was the only thing that kept me out of Hell.” 

Looking at the old woman, Emily could only say, “Wow... you’re just an awful person.” “Excuse me?” Bathory said in shock. “I mean, it’s sad you gave up your daughter, and you did it out of genuine love,” Emily explained. “But everything else... you kind of come off as a gold digger who got pissy when her husband didn’t follow the path she wanted for him, and also, the only reason you hate Jojo is because Misfit just spent more time with him. Honestly, it’s hard to feel sorry for you after all that.” Bathory only glared at the young drok furiously, one eyelid twitching with rage while Lolita stared on in horror. “And frankly, this whole thing feels like a waste of time,” Emily continued. “Krockman’s just gonna swoop in and stop you from doing... whatever it is you plan on doing. He’s always doing stuff like that.” When she heard this, a look of surprise crossed Bathory’s face. “Is that what you think?” she asked in a condescending tone. “You think Krockman’s protecting you out of kindness?” “Well isn’t he?” Emily asked worriedly. “Oh you poor, stupid thing you,” Bathory said almost sympathetically. “He’s only protecting you to prevent the inevitable. You see, Krockman was ordered by the heavenly court to collect your souls. You and your friends were supposed to die days ago.” Looking on in horror, Emily stammered, “I... I... what?” “You didn’t realize that? What a surprise,” Bathory said sarcastically. “I hardly understand why he bothers going to so much trouble keeping you and your friends alive, but don’t worry. We won’t kill you. That doesn’t mean you’re leaving here untouched.” 

Having this, Bathory shouted, “Plumella! Come here this minute!” Just as before, Plumella appeared in a puff of feathers and dust. “You called Miss?” the little feather duster scrap asked. Picking up a cattle prod and placing it in the scrap’s hands, Bathory ordered, “Plumella, I want you to take this, and shove it as hard as you can into that little wretch in the cage.” Noticing the look of shock on Emily’s face, Bathory retorted, “What? Did you really think I was going to do it myself? Not at first at least. I felt it would be more satisfying to see a scrap have the first blow, seeing that you consider them children.” “W-wait a minute,” Lolita interjected worriedly. “You never said you were involving scraps.” Bathory simply disregarded the secretary as she goaded Plumella on. Glancing down at the cattle prod, then towards Emily, Plumella turned towards Bathory and asked, “What exactly did she do?” “It doesn’t matter,” Bathory answered hastily. “Just jab her with the prod, preferably in a soft, tender spot.” “But why?” Plumella asked, setting the prod down. “All Emily did was yell at you. You basically yell at everyone, but nobody ever shoves a cattle prod into you.” Clenching her fist, Bathory retorted, “I am in charge here, so I can yell at anyone I wish. Since when do you ask so many stupid questions? You usually just do what I say without a second thought.” Glancing over towards a window, Plumella simply answered, “Perhaps, I’m just stalling.” 

Before Bathory could say anything in response, she heard the window shattering, followed by a soft squeak. Turning around, she saw a small, red mushroom fuming black smoke, only for it to explode, engulfing her in a putrid, yet spicy smelling black cloud of gas. “Gah! Oh god! The stench!” Bathory screamed as she feel to the floor, gagging and coughing. Taken by surprise, Emily and Lolita saw a small group of scraps climb in through the window lead by Teddi. Following after her was Calibur, Jimmy, Jojo, Wrappa, Mac, and a hulking, round bodied boar man with stubby legs, a nose ring, and an arm cannon (possibly Milbert’s rage burst form), with Shinkin riding on his shoulder. “Mama!” Teddi shouted as she ran over to the cage. “We’re here to rescue you. Are you alright?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” Emily said in a reassuring tone, her eyes glancing over towards the gasping Bathory. “What exactly was that thing you fired in here?” “Oh that was simply a mushroom the little bug scrap shoved into Milbert’s arm cannon,” Jojo explained. “He said it would incapacitate Bathory, but it wouldn’t hurt her.” Turning towards Jojo, Shinkin simply replied, “Shinkin is very considerate of the oddly shaped man’s feelings for the angry lady. Shinkin knows his stuff.” Milbert only gave a satisfied snort, sending out a puff of pepper. 

“Yes, yes, that’s nice and all, but can we please focus on the task at hand,” Mac said, pointing towards the cage. “Let’s get her out before the Bride of Frankenstein down there catches her breath.” Stepping forward and raising his sword valiantly, Calibur shouted, “Fear not fair maiden! We’ll have you out in half no time! Such is the hero’s duty!” Mac simply face palmed at this, mumbling “Oh god” under his breath. Pulling out his wooden sword, Calibur slashed the cage open, freeing Emily. “My, that’s a surprisingly sharp sword you have there my friend,” Jojo said in surprise. Looking proudly at his sword, Calibur smiled as he said, “Thank you sir.” As Emily got out of the cage, Jimmy noticed Bathory twitching on the ground as she croaked out, “Need... air.” “Uh guys, I think we might have a problem,” he said as the elder lost soul’s body began to crack, bend and glow as the walls of the kitchen began to buckle and twist. 

Suddenly, the room exploded out, transforming it into a series of platforms floating in the air. As the little group stared on in shock from one of the platforms, they heard a low rumbling sound emanating from a cloud of fog on the ground. From the fog rose a hulking, skeletal monstrosity; its arms formed from a pair of daddy longlegs (with each scrawny, spider leg-like finger and wrists covered in gaudy jewelry), and its cranium seemed to be formed from an enormous daddy longlegs, its legs digging deep into its shoulder bones. From just a glance, Emily and the others knew that this was Bathory’s rage burst form. The she-beast glowered down at the group with five, glowing orange eyes before roaring with rage, slamming her fist into platform and scattering the group onto different platforms. 

As Emily regained her bearings, she saw that Teddi and Wrappa were on the platform with her. Looking up, however, she saw the hulking monstrosity that was Bathory glaring down at her, her fanged jaws slavering. Before either women could do anything, another pepper charged mushroom came screaming at Bathory’s eyes, blinding her momentarily. Regaining her sight, she saw that it came from the still transformed Milbert, alongside Shinkin, Jimmy, and Jojo. Placing her hand on a platform, Bathory lurched towards the little group, only to reel back in pain. Looking down, she saw that her fingers had been sliced off by Calibur, while Mac was busy shielding Plumella. “Yeah! Way to go Calibur!” Teddi shouted excitedly. “That’ll teach her to mess with us!” Hearing this, Bathory turned to face Teddi and her little group, roaring as she charged towards their platform, mouth agape and ready for a bite. Before Emily and Teddi could react, Wrappa quickly grabbed them and tossed them off the platform just in time to be devoured along with the platform by the skeletal monster. “Wrappa!!! No!!!” Teddi shouted in horror, watching in terror as Bathory slowly approached her and her mother. 

As Bathory loomed over her prey, she felt a chilling pain in one of her teeth that was steadily growing. She was unaware of what was going on, but Teddi and Emily could see what was happening: Wrappa had somehow wormed his scarf arms around the tooth and was slowly freezing it in a frigid embrace. As Wrappa’s hug grew tighter, his finger-like tassels unraveled, taking on a more claw-like appearance. With one final squeeze, the tooth completely froze over and shattered, causing Bathory to reel in pain as Wrappa stepped out from the gap; revealing an intimidating new form: his rage burst form. His body seemed more stretched out, which, along with his long scarf arms, gave him an ape-like appearance. He sported a pom pom hat, earmuffs, and a crazed look on his face. Letting out ear piercing shriek, Wrappa held up his fists, encasing them in ice and smashing his way through the rest of Bathory’s teeth. When he had finished, leaving Bathory to clutching at her mouth, Wrappa jumped back down onto the platform, towering over Emily and Teddi. “Heh heh, ready for the big finale Teddi?” Wrappa asked, holding out his hand to Teddi. Smiling at this, Teddi took Wrappa’s hand and said, “Nothing would bring me more joy.” Wrappa only cracked a wicked grin at this as he tightened his grip and tossed the teddy bear scrap at Bathory. As she was careening towards the skeletal giant, Teddi made a fist (which grew to a monstrous size) as she shouted, “This is for hurting mama, Hagzilla!” With that, Teddi punched the hulking lost soul, shattering her like glass and reverting her to her normal form. 

With Bathory defeated, the platforms came back together, reforming the kitchen. Everyone found themselves back on the floor, Milbert and Wrappa reverted to their normal selves, and Emily staring on in shock at the whole situation. As Bathory slowly came to, she noticed the scraps staring at her, causing the elder lost soul to jump back in fear, screaming, “Please! No more! Have mercy!” Teddi only shook her head at this before turning to Plumella and said, “You don’t have to worry about Bathory anymore. She’s not going to hurt anyone any time soon.” Smiling at this, Plumella adjusted her mask and said, “Thanks you guys. I think things will be easier now that I’m not under her thumb anymore.” Satisfied, Teddi turned to Emily and said, “Hey momma, me and the other scraps are meeting up with the others outside. Are you okay on your own right now?” Glancing down at the little scrap, Emily finally found her voice and said in reply, “Uh, sure, I’m fine. Just be careful sweetie.” With that, the scraps left, leaving Emily and Jojo alone with Bathory. 

Looking over towards Jojo, Emily noticed a look of disappointment on his face. “Is everything alright Jojo?” Emily asked in a concerned tone. “You seem sad.” “Oh I’m fine my dear,” Jojo answered with a sigh. “I’m just a little disappointed is all. It seems to me that Bathory isn’t ready for what I have to say.” “You mean about her daughter?” Emily asked. Overhearing this, Bathory asked, “My daughter? What about my daughter?” “Your daughter asked me to help her find you and Misfit,” Jojo explained, noticing Bathory’s curiosity. “She wanted to meet her parents, but with Misfit missing and your little... episode, it doesn’t feel like the right time for that. I’m very sorry.” Having said this, Jojo hobbled his way out of the room, sighing as Bathory (having finally seen the magnitude of the situation) pleaded, “Wait, Jojo! Come back! Please! Don’t just leave me here all alone! Let me meet her! Let me know how she turned out! Please!!!” When Jojo finally left, Bathory broke down in tears, leaving Emily with a profound feeling of pity. 

As Emily watched the weeping lost soul, she heard a familiar voice say, “Such a sorry sight. She’s completely screwed over by her own pride yet again.” Turning towards the voice, Emily saw that it was Lolita who was standing at the entrance of the kitchen with a concerned look on her face. Looking on in disbelief, Emily asked, “Where the hell have you been this whole time?” “I saw Bathory undergoing her transformation, so... I ran and hid,” Lolita explained sheepishly. “So basically, you’re a coward along with being a blood sucking sociopath,” Emily snarked. “Why am I not surprised?” After a few minutes of awkward silence (punctuated by Bathory’s sobbing), Emily asked, “So... me and the others were supposed to be dead by now?” “I’m afraid so,” Lolita explained, her tone sounding apologetic. “Krockman was supposed to collect your souls, but for whatever reason, he’s become sympathetic towards you and wanted to spare you. It’s simply delaying the inevitable of course, but damn if he isn’t determined to keep you all alive.” Hearing this, Emily was so shocked, she sat down on the floor, completely stunned. 

Sitting down beside the young drok, Lolita gently placed an arm around Emily’s shoulder in condolence. “What am I going to do?” Emily asked, staring off into the distance, still processing what she had learned. “I can’t just go back to the mortal world, not after what I’ve learned. How am I going to live knowing I’m this close to death?” Casting a side glance towards Emily, Lolita asked, “Isn’t that how mortals live everyday?” “Well yeah,” Emily said in reply. “But it’s different when you know your days are literally numbered, not to mention the fact that I’m already past my expiration date.” “Well, I might have a solution,” Lolita said with a bit of apprehension in her voice. “This probably breaks a whole lot of rules, but you could stay here in Limbo.” Glancing towards Lolita, Emily remarked, “Yeah, I think I’d have a better chance of surviving in the mortal realm.” “No, no, you don’t understand,” Lolita explained. “You won’t die in Limbo. Mortals can’t die in the afterlife. Their souls simply just get knocked out of their body. So long as the body isn’t destroyed, your soul can just fly back in and you’ll come back to life.” “Seriously?” Emily asked, intrigued by what she heard. “But where would I even go? I really don’t feel comfortable being near Babel, and I certainly can’t stay here.” Placing a hand on the side of her head, Lolita said, “You can always go to False Orchard. That’s where Mac lives. Practically no one goes there. Just ask Mac.” Thinking it about it a bit, Emily got up, turned to Lolita and said, “Alright then, I’ll consider it. Just one question though: why are you helping me all of a sudden?” “Oh, well I noticed you had a sort of connection with the scraps when you first met them,” Lolita explained in a somber tone as she got up off the floor. “It wasn’t until Krockman told me about your ‘condition’ that I made the connection. Honestly, you aren’t the first infertile woman to treat the scraps as children... they called me ‘Mother Lola’.” “Oh, I’m sorry about that,” Emily said, feeling bad for the secretary. “But thanks for your help. I really appreciate it.” With that, Emily left the kitchen and went outside to meet up with the scraps. 
———— 

Meanwhile, outside of the kitchen, Teddi, the other scraps, and Jojo were meeting up with the other enlightened scraps. Impatiently tapping his foot, Kama, upon seeing the little group, said, “Well it’s about damn time. Did you save your mom or what?” Glaring at the sickle scrap, Teddi retorted, “We did, no thanks to you. You know, we really could’ve used your help back there.” “Shinkin was a huge help,” Shinkin interjected with phlegmy pride. Glancing back towards the fungus scrap, Teddi replied, “I know Shinkin, and thank you for that.” Ignoring the two scraps, Kama approached Plumella, Wrappa, and Mac with wracked curiosity. 

Seeing the large scrap slowly approach, Plumella and Wrappa slowly backed away out of instinctual fear, while Mac simply glared up at Kama with an unenthused look. “Uh, can we help you,” Wrappa asked nervously. Eyeing the two scraps, Kama said in reply, “I was just curious about you two. You seem like you’d be perfect.” Looking confused and casting a worried look towards Plumella, Wrappa asked, “Um, perfect for what exactly?” “For the pilgrimage towards enlightenment of course,” Kama answered with an almost evangelical air. “I can tell you from experience, there is no greater joy than to feel the full force of the glorious light of enlightenment and becoming a complete being.” Hearing this, Jimmy interjected, “Dude, you sound like a cultist, or at least a weirdly aggressive Mormon.” Kama only muttered, “Shut the hell up Jimmy.” “Oh, wow, um... okay,” Wrappa said cautiously. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to kindly decline because... you kind of scare me.” “I see,” Kama said in a disappointed tone. “What about you Plumella? You interested?” “Oh no thank you,” Plumella declined politely. “I’ve only recently got out from under Bathory’s thumb, and I’m just not comfortable with going under someone else’s thumb. For now, I’d like to venture around the world and see what’s out there.” “Well that’s a pity,” Kama said, lowering his head a bit with a sigh. “Well, you two will change your minds eventually. They always do. In the meantime, enjoy yourselves.” With that, the sickle scrap began to walk away, much to the surprise of Mac. 

“Uh, hello?!” Mac shouted in a pissed tone. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Casting a condescending glance towards Mac, Kama asked, “And that would be... what exactly?” “Aren’t you going to offer me a place in your little... whatever this is?” Mac asked impatiently. Hearing this, Kama simply eyed the laptop scrap judgingly before saying, “Yeah, your not ready for enlightenment.” “What do you mean I’m not ready?” Mac hastily asked, clearly offended. “I should’ve been the first person you asked to join your stupid little group. I saw your base with my drone, and I saw your powerful artifact (whatever it was). I want in on this.” Staring on in horror, Kama said, “You were spying on us with drones? Dude... what is wrong with you?” Nervously glancing around, Mac quickly said, “Alright, you don’t want me in your group? Fine! I didn’t want to be a member anyway. I mean enlightenment? Who wants that?” Kama only retorted, “As of right now, you.” Hearing this, Mac only stammered a bit, shaking his head before flipping two birds at the sickle scrap and screaming, “I hate you all!!!” With that, Mac stomped off back towards the summerhouse, with Wrappa and Plumella following after (not out of a sense of support for Mac, but out of a sense of fear towards Kama). 

As Teddi watched the whole scene unfold, she noticed Emily and Jojo coming out of the house towards Mac. “Momma! Jojo!” the little teddy bear scrap shouted excitedly as she ran towards them. “You’re okay.” “Of course I am,” Emily said as she scooped up Teddi in a hug. “Thanks to you of course. You were so brave back there.” Feeling a little proud of herself, Teddi said in reply, “Thanks momma. So where are you and Jojo heading now?” “Well, me and Jojo talked about it back in the hallway, and we’ve decided to head towards Mac’s place for a while,” Emily explained as she set Teddi down before realizing something. “Wait, what do you mean ‘me and Jojo’? Aren’t you coming along with us?” Looking forlornly towards her “mom”, Teddi answered in a somber tone, “Actually, no. I’m actually going to be going with the enlightened scraps on a quest to retrieve an ancient artifact. This may actually be the last time I see you for a while.” “Oh, I see,” Emily said, feeling a little heartbroken. “W-well, if that’s the case, please be careful out there, and I just want you to know that I love you.” Looking up at Emily, Teddi simply hugged her leg and said, “I love you too, momma.” With that, Teddi walked away, both mother and daughter feeling a new emptiness in their hearts.

As she walked away, Teddi passed Mac, Plumella, and Wrappa. Seeing that Mac was still fuming, she tried to avoid eye contact with the furious laptop scrap, shielding her eyes from his gaze. Trying to ignore Mac, Teddi caught the eye of Wrappa. “Oh hey Teddi, how’s it going?” the scarf scrap asked excitedly. Looking at Wrappa, Teddi said, “Hey Wrappa. I’m doing okay. I was just saying goodbye to my mom. Thanks again for your help back there by the way.” “No problem,” Wrappa said with a smile, his cheeks blushing blue. “So, you’re really going on this ‘quest’ thing?” Hearing this, Teddi grew quiet, awkwardly circling her foot in the dirt as she said, “Yeah, we’ll be gone for a while. This is kind of a big deal.” Looking at the teddy bear scrap, Wrappa began to feel awkward, stuttering as he said, “Oh, um, w-well if y-you’re going to be gone for a while, t-there’s s-something I wanted to tell you before you go.” Before Wrappa could say anything else, Kama shouted, “Yo Teddi! Get the lead out and get over here! We have a tight schedule to keep!” “Oh, sorry Wrappa. I really need to get going,” Teddi said before giving Wrappa a quick hug. “Maybe you can tell me when I get back. I’ll see you when I come home.” With that, Teddi left to rejoin the enlightened scraps, leaving Wrappa disheartened, silently rejoining Plumella and Mac. 

As Mac was stomping off, he found that he was confronted by Emily and Jojo. “What are you two looking at?” he asked in a pissed tone. Before Emily could say anything, Jojo stepped in and said to her, “Please, allow me.” Turning towards Mac, Jojo asked, “Mac, would it be alright if Emily and I were to stay at your place for a little while?” “And why would I agree to that?” Mac asked, placing his fists on his hips. Looking concerned, Jojo explained, “Well, I was planning on meeting up with the woman who asked for my help, and Emily is traumatized by the fact that she’s going to die back in the mortal world.” Casting a side glance towards Emily, Mac retorted, “Don’t all mortals die eventually? How’s this any different?” “Please, you don’t understand,” Emily interjected nervously. “It’s one thing to know that you’ll die one day, but apparently I was supposed to die days ago. How can I go back there when I know I’m basically overdue?” “I don’t know...” Mac said, feeling somewhat sorry for the drok. Suddenly, Emily kneeled down before Mac and embraced him in a tearful hug, saying, “Please Mac, I’m begging you. I don’t know where else to go.” Feeling awkward in the hug, Mac glanced around a bit before saying, “Alright fine, you guys can come over to my place.” When he said this, Mac heard a familiar voice ask, “Can we come over too?” Turning around, he saw that it was Wrappa and Plumella. Thinking it over a bit, Mac sighed before saying, “Fine, come along you noodle legged freak.” With that, the small group left, making their way towards False Orchard.