It was a quiet day in Faithsprings, Virginia. Krockman and the others quietly strolled down the street, slowly approaching a little house. He took a moment to look upon the house, somewhat amazed that it still looked the way it did when he had last visited; with its alternating layers of vinyl and brick and the worn out shingles of the roof. Exhaling a bit, Krockman said, “Well everyone, this is it: my old home.” “Lovely little place,” Misfit said as he looked on at the house. “I almost wish I had found you here instead of that apartment.” Turning towards the elder lost soul with a perplexed look on his face, Krockman said, “Kind of a weird take on my misery induced death, but alright then.” 

 

“Right, so why are we here again?” Alucard asked. “It’s like I told you guys,” Krockman explained. “You guys wanted to know why I won’t do anything about Emily, so I’m going to show you why. I just need to pick up something from here that’ll explain everything.” Walking up to the door, Krockman breathed deeply, exhaled and shuddered a bit as he mentally prepared himself. “Alright, Alucard, Roquella, you guys are already prepared for this since we came here during our ‘making our peace’ tour,” he said as he knocked on the door. “Misfit, Bathory, just... brace yourselves, alright.” “Believe me, I think spending a year with you has prepared me for anything that’s inside that house,” Misfit said snidely. “What’s the worst that can happen?” 

 

After a few minutes of waiting, the door opened up, revealing a large, burly, bearded man in his late twenties. The man stared at Krockman for a bit in mild surprise before saying, “Cooper? You’re here?” “Hey Andy,” Krockman said in reply, giving a sheepish little grin. Narrowing his eyes, the man, Andy, said, “You son of a bitch. You fall off the face of the earth for close to a year without so much as a word and now you show up and act like everything’s ok?!” “Hey, give me a break, man!” Krockman retorted. “I’ve had a lot on my plate lately! You want to make something of it, be my guest!” “Oh, you wanna do this? You wanna go? You still think you can take me, little man?!” Andy snapped as he pushed up his sleeves. “Let’s do this, ass clown!” “Bring it, pube face!!!” Krockman shouted before jumping at Andy, knocking them both to the ground in an awkward wrestling match. 

 

As the two men rolled around on the ground, wrangling each other in a neck lock, Misfit and Bathory stared on in shock while Alucard and Roquella were weirdly unfazed. “What is happening?” Misfit said as he stared on at the strange fight. “Who is this man, and why do they hate each other so much?” “Yeah, that’s Andy, Krockman’s older brother,” Alucard explained. “And they don’t hate each other. This is apparently how they greet each other. I guess this is just a brothers thing.” “Speaking as a man with two younger brothers, I assure you this isn’t normal,” Misfit said as the brothers began punching each other in the junk. “Should we do something? I feel like we should do something.” “Trust us, this really is normal,” Roquella interjected. “They’re gonna duke it out for a few more minutes, and then they’re going to stop fighting, start crying, and tell each other they love them.” Looking concerned, Misfit said, “That... that can’t be right.” Sure enough, however, that’s exactly what happened, the two brothers hugging and crying as they told each other they loved them; all the while, Misfit and Bathory were left speechless. 

 

As the two brothers were crying, a shrill voice shouted from the house, screaming, “Damn it! Who left the front door open!? Are you trying to let in every bug in the neighborhood!?” Suddenly, the owner of the voice came to the door, a short,  middle aged woman with an unusually large head and an annoyed look on her face. “I swear to god, if I find out who did this, I’m...” the woman continued, only to stop when she saw Krockman. “Cooper?” Krockman sheepishly looked up at her and said in reply, “Hi mom.” “Oh Cooper, sweetheart, you’re here,” Mrs. Krockman said, happy to see her son again. “What are you doing here? We haven’t seen for close to a year now.” “Yeah, well things have been busy lately,” Krockman explained as he got up. “In fact, I actually came by to tell you something important.” At that moment, Krockman nudged Roquella in the arm, whispering, “Show her the ring.” Hearing this, Roquella smiled as she held up her hand, showing off her engagement ring to her future mother-in-law. Staring at the ring in shock, Mrs. Krockman asked, “Is that… are you two?” Roquella and Krockman both nodded yes, only to be met with a joyful hug from the excited mother as she congratulated them both. 

 

As Mrs. Krockman hugged her future daughter-in-law, she noticed Alucard, Misfit, and Bathory standing there. “Oh, hello there,” she said to the trio in a welcoming tone. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I recognize Roquella and Alucard from the last time Cooper visited, but I don’t remember seeing you two. Do either of you work at his company?” Looking a bit confused, Misfit said in reply, “Um, yes, we work for your son. My name is Misfit, and this is my wife, Bathory.” “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Krockman,” Bathory said, grinning a little too wide to be genuine. “Oh please, call me Martha,” Mrs. Krockman said in reply, feeling flattered. Casting a side glance towards the other woman’s home, Bathory smiled as she said, “You have such a lovely home too, so… modest.” Hearing this, Martha looked a little offended, asking, “Modest? What do you mean by that?” “Nothing, nothing,” Bathory said in reply. “I mean, it’s such a lovely home, given your financial circumstances. It’s quite a well furnished place for a middle class family.” With that, Bathory made her way inside, while Misfit gave an apologetic look towards a quietly fuming Martha. 

 

As the group made their way inside, Andy hugged Krockman, saying, “Congratulations on your engagement, Coop. I’m proud of ya.” “Thanks Andy,” Krockman said in reply. “Although, I’m curious what you’re doing down here. Isn’t this the brewery’s busiest time of the year?” “I’m sorry, you run a brewery?” Misfit asked out of curiosity. “Oh yeah, I own a brewery up in the mountains,” Andy explained. “We’re currently planning on opening up a restaurant as well. Right now, it’s mostly just logistical planning, nothing concrete yet. So while the boys up in the office are hashing things out, I decided to take the weekend off, pack up the family, and head down here to visit the grandparents.” “Wait, the family?” Krockman said excitedly. “Does that mean…” At that moment, Krockman heard the voice of a small child cheerfully cry out, “Uncle Cooper!” Turning towards the voice, he saw a young, five year old boy running towards him: his nephew Dylan. “Dylan! Come here you little tater tot!” Krockman said as he scooped up the boy and embraced him in a big hug. “Well now, affectionate little scamp, isn’t he,” Misfit said. “Yeah, this is my nephew, Dylan,” Krockman explained. “Seeing him just makes my day so much better. Seriously, don’t you want to just dunk him in a cup of coffee just looking at him?” “Yes, interesting,” Misfit said disdainfully. “Makes me wonder if your little ‘final act’ back in New York was worth it, given everything that’s happened since then.” Krockman only glared at the long nosed lost soul in annoyance. 

 

At that moment, Misfit noticed something sitting above the fireplace. It was a simple, forest green urn emblazoned with initials “C.K.” Turning towards Krockman, he casually asked, “I take it that’s yours?” “Oh yeah, they had me cremated after I died,” Krockman explained. “Although, I could’ve sworn they scattered my ashes around in the park like I asked them to.” Overhearing this, Martha interjected, “We did, dear. It’s just that your father insisted on keeping the urn. Paid a lot of money for it, so now he’s using it to store loose change. You know how he is with money, plus the plumbing business has been rather slow these days, so he’s been very strict about finances.” “Of course he did,” Krockman said in reply. “Dear old dad, being as frugal as ever (at least the urn’s cheaper than a casket).” After Martha walked off, Misfit could not help but feel confused. “Could you explain this to me, because some things aren’t really adding up,” he said to Krockman. “Your family is aware that you're dead, they have actual proof that you died, and somehow you’re making it so that they’re ok with you being here… How does any of that make any sense?” Shrugging his shoulders, Krockman simply replied, “That’s just how it is, big guy.” Misfit only groaned at this, thoroughly convinced that if was not already dead, he would be having an aneurysm at that point. 

 

Just then, the group heard the front door close, followed by heavy footsteps. Walking into the living room was a middle-aged man dressed in jeans and an old, button up shirt, his hard hat hiding his receding hairline. The man seemed distracted as he set his hard hat on the coffee table, only noticing the group at the last minute, catching him off guard. “Who the hell are you people and what’re you doing in my house?” the man asked, only to notice Krockman. “Cooper?” Looking back at the man, Krockman flatly responded, “Hey dad.” Looking surprised, Mr. Krockman looked towards his son and asked, “Cooper, what are you doing here? Who are all these people?” “They’re with me, dad,” Krockman explained. “They’re my entourage.” The father only groaned at this, unimpressed by his son’s influence. 

 

At that moment, Martha interjected, saying to Mr. Krockman, “Barney, don’t be rude. You’re son came all the way here with important news. Can you at least be polite?” “Fine, fine, I’ll try,” Barney said, feigning enthusiasm. “What did you want to tell me, Cooper?” Sneering at this, Krockman said, “Well gee, dad, since you seem sooo interested, me and my girlfriend are engaged.” Looking unimpressed, Barney asked, “You mean the half-Jew girl?” “Yes, to my loving, caring girlfriend,” Krockman retorted. “Well, congratulations son. I’m happy for you,” Barney said before turning towards Misfit. “And you must be the father of the bride. It’s a pleasure to meet ya.” “What? Oh no, I think you might be mistaken,” Misfit said in reply. “I work with your son. I’m not Roquella’s father.” Looking surprised, Barney said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed you were her dad, seeing that you came here with them, and… y’know, you’re Jewish.” “Sir, I’m Catholic,” the old lost soul explained. “Why would you assume I’m Jewish?” Hearing this, Barney grew visibly uncomfortable before answering, “Well, you look Jewish, what with the beard and the… nose.” An awkward silence hung in the air before Krockman finally interjected, “Jesus, dad, it’s crap like this that makes people think you’re a racist.” 

 

Trying to defuse the situation, Martha interjected, saying in a friendly tone, “Anyway, it’s great that you and your friends came by to visit, Cooper, and on Founder’s Day no less.” “Wait, that’s today?” Krockman said, genuinely surprised. “Well crap, I wasn’t expecting it to be Founder’s Day.” “Well it is, and the whole family’s heading there,” Barney interjected with a hint of disgust. “Huge crowds, overpriced snacks, long lines at the beer tent, and of course, Mayor Whipple’s gonna be there schmoozing the voters (this is an election year after all).” “Mayor Whipple? That whiny, little blowhard’s still in office?” Krockman asked. “Didn’t he only pass one law in his entire term? One that increased the number of birds people could keep in their homes?” Looking confused, Misfit said, “That’s… oddly specific.” Without missing a beat, Krockman explained, “The dude breeds parrots.” “Ah, that explains it,” Misfit said in reply. 

 

“Well, if the family’s heading that way, we might as well tag along,” Krockman said, trying to feign as much enthusiasm as possible. Grimacing at this, Barney retorted, “Really? After what you did the last time you came here? I’m surprised you’d actually want to show your face in town again?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Krockman asked, legitimately confused. Glaring at his son, Barney only said in reply, “You know damn well what I mean.” Having said that, Barney walked away in annoyance, leaving Krockman more confused than ever. Leaning in towards the younger lost soul, Misfit asked, “What exactly is he talking about?” “How the hell should I know?” Krockman retorted. “What was he talking about ‘the last time I came here’? I barely remember what happened last time.” 

 

When they heard this, Roquella and Alucard cringed in unison. “Actually, I think we might know what your dad’s talking about,” Roquella said uncomfortably. “Really?” Krockman asked in reply. “What happened?” Looking uncomfortable, Alucard explained, “Well, the last time we came here, you got into a heated argument with your dad about… something, and afterwards, you ran off to a bar. You got really wasted, and started ranting about some place called ‘Dartwood’. It was long, vulgar, and had a lot of subtle, homoerotic undertones (I recall you saying something about an army of naked men, ten thousand flopping kielbasas strong)… it went viral.” “Well that sounds like a load of crap,” Krockman retorted indignantly. “As if I would ever get that dru…” At that moment, Alucard whipped out his phone, opened up YouTube, and pulled up a video of Krockman in a bar, drunkenly ranting, “ALL THOSE BASTARDS RUNNING AROUND, THINKING THEY’RE BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE WITH THEIR MOUTHS FULL OF LIES AND THEIR QUIVERING THIGHS!!!” Staring on in shock, Krockman could only wince as he said, “Oh my god, what am I walking into at this fair?” 

 

Later on, the Krockman family arrived at the Founder’s Day festival. The streets were packed with people moving from stand to stand, laughing and enjoying themselves; everyone having a good time. Well, everyone except Krockman. After seeing that video, he was dreading having to deal with everyone in town. Looking around nervously, Krockman turned towards Alucard, and said, “Do you think anyone noticed I’m here yet?” “Doesn’t seem like it,” Alucard said in reply. “Although, to be fair, it’s not like your Dartwood rant was the worst thing in that bar (some guy actually brought his kid there). What’s the deal with this Dartwood place anyway?” “It’s a town in the next county,” Barney explained. “Over the past few years, it’s sorta became Faithsprings’ rival, especially when it comes to our high school football games.” Shrugging his shoulders, Krockman simply replied, “I’m not even into sports, but even I can tell it’s a big deal.” 

 

At that moment, Krockman saw someone in the crowd… someone he really did not want to see. Broad shouldered and square jawed with a quarterback build, he recognized this meathead anywhere. “Oh crap, it’s Dan Cruller,” Krockman said, trying to hide behind Misfit to avoid being seen. “He’s the last person I want to deal with right now. He made my life miserable back in high school, and he was my main rival for the affections of our class’s foreign exchange student: Greta Sorenberg.” Looking down at Krockman, Misfit asked, “So how’d that work out?” “Oh it went perfectly,” Krockman answered sarcastically. “Me and Greta got married after we graduated, moved to Richmond and had three kids. How the hell do you think it turned out?” Smiling proudly, Barney said, “Ah, Dan. Now there’s a man anyone would be proud to have as a son.” “Okay, first of all… that’s hurtful,” Krockman said in annoyance. “And second of all, you only like him because his dad owns the local hardware store and gives you good deals on socket wrenches.” “Well the socket wrenches do help,” Barney said in reply, indifferent to his son’s feelings. 

 

At that moment, Dan noticed the Krockman family and excitedly made his way towards them. “Oh god, he’s coming our way,” Krockman said nervously. “Hopefully he won’t talk to us (please God, if you actually know what you’re doing, don’t let him talk to us).” As usual, God was not on his side, as Dan walked up to Krockman and said, “Cooper, my man! How’s it going, dude!” “God damn it!” Krockman screamed in his head, cursing his own bad luck. “Hey Dan, how’s it going or whatever? You seem happy to see me.” “Well yeah, Coop, why wouldn’t I be,” Dan said in reply. “After all, it's not everyday I get to talk to a town hero.” Caught off guard, the lost soul could only reply, “I’m sorry, talk to who now?” “Yeah man, you’re the town hero!” Dan explained excitedly. “Ever since you trashed Dartwood at the bar, people have been going nuts over it. It’s a good thing I managed to get it on film.” Surprised by this, Krockman asked, “Wait, that was you?!” “Hell yeah!” Dan answered. “God, it’s a good thing I went to the bar that day. I was supposed to be watching my kid that day, but I figured, ‘Hey, why not do both?’” “I can think of several reasons why not, but that’s besides the point,” Krockman retorted, confident that he at least had some standards. 

 

As they were talking, Dan noticed Barney was there as well. “Oh, Mr. Krockman! How’re you doing sir?” the young man said politely. “I’m doing quite fine, Dan,” Barney said in reply. “Hey Dan, did your dad get that new set of pipe wrenches in store yet?” Looking apologetic, Dan answered, “No, sorry sir. Those won’t come in until next week.” “Well, that’s a pity, but thanks for letting me know,” Barney said, sounding disappointed. Noticing Alucard and Misfit, Dan asked, “And who’re you two? Never seen you guys around here before.” “I’m Alucard, and this is Misfit,” Alucard explained. “We work with Cooper.” “Really now?” Dan said, his voice lifting with his interest. “Well in that case, you should join us for the big reveal.” Hearing this,Krockman asked, “I’m sorry, the big reveal? What are they revealing here?” “Oh it’s nothing too special,” Dan answered. “Just something me and the boys brought here for the big football game that’s happening tomorrow. It’s Faithspring Vs. Dartwood, and the moment I saw you were back in town, I knew you’d want a piece of the action.” “Oh… um, thanks, I guess…” Krockman said, feeling a little uncomfortable. “I’m not much of a sports guy, but…” “Nonsense!” Dan shouted enthusiastically as he got behind Krockman and nudged him along. “You’re really gonna love this. I just know it.” With that, the five men made their way to a secluded corner of town, far from any prying eyes. 

 

When the group had arrived, they were greeted by a small crowd of men huddled around a pickup truck, all of them looking a little too eager for them to be up to any good. Looking around nervously, Krockman turned to the others and asked, “Am I the only one who feels like they just walked into a drug deal that’s about to go horribly wrong?” “No, I’m pretty certain we’re all feeling that way,” Alucard said in reply. “So, Dan… Dan… Danny boy,” Krockman said nervously, trying everything in his power to keep it together. “What exactly is all of… like… what is all of this?” Smiling a coy smile, Dan approached the truck, pulled out a set of keys, and unlocked the truck as he answered, “Me and the boys took your speech about Dartwood to heart and decided to do something about it. Something that’ll really put Dartwood in their place like the little bitches they are.” Having said this, Dan opened the truck door, revealing a shocking sight: a teenage boy, no older than sixteen, hogtied and gagged in the backseat, struggling to get free. Staring at the teen in shock, Krockman asked, “Is… is that a kid? Did you guys fucking kidnap a kid?!” “That ain’t just any kid, buddy,” Dan explained excitedly. “That’s the quarterback for the Dartwood High football team. Found him hanging out at the Wawa down the street. So, what do you want to do with him?” “Excuse me?” Krockman asked, becoming increasingly confused about why this was his choice. “Yeah man! It was your speech. It only seems right that you get a say in this. So come on, what’re you gonna do to him?” Looking nervously at the quarterback, Krockman simply muttered, “Let him go.” “What?” Dan asked in confusion. “Let him go! What the hell’s the matter with you guys!?” Krockman shouted, lifting the teen out of the truck and cutting his ropes and ungagging him. “There you go, no worse for wear. No you get on out of here and… maybe don’t mention any of this to your parents.” The teen simply glared at Krockman before punching him in the face and shouting, “Asshole!” With that, the teen stormed off in huff. 

 

As Krockman rubbed his nose, Dan and the other guys simply glared at him in disgust as they disbanded. “You just had to be a fucking killjoy, didn’t you?” Dan said before walking off. “Killjoy!?” Krockman shouted incredulously. “You guys kidnapped a kid! That should’ve been your punched face!!!” Shaking his head in annoyance, Barney said, “I hope you’re proud of yourself, Cooper.” “What did I do?!” Krockman asked, slowly growing fed up with everything. “If you hadn’t given that stupid speech about Dartwood the last time you were in town, none of this would’ve happened,” Barney explained curtly. “Hey, I didn’t tell any of those idiots to go around kidnapping people,” Krockman retorted. “And up until an hour ago, I didn’t even remember making that speech, and Dartwood was only a small part of it, along with some weird… homoerotic subtext.” Rolling his eyes, Alucard interjected, “It’s true, I was there. He was very drunk at the time. Not sure what the gay stuff was about though. Maybe he’s bi, I don’t know. I’m not really an expert on this kind of…” “Thank you Al, I’ll take it from here,” Krockman said in an exasperated tone. “Well what the hell were you going on about back then?” Barney asked in annoyance. “Because at this point, I’m just a little curious about what was going on in your head at the time.” “You want to know what I was going on about? You really want to know?” Krockman said, finally fed up with everyone else’s shit. “I was talking about you, Dad. I was talking about how you never cared about my dreams of being a writer. About how you never even called me when I moved to New York!  About how when we were driving to the airport, you told me to my face that you wished I was never born!!!” After that came out, an awkward silence hung in the air like a thick cloud. 

 

Feeling deeply uncomfortable, Misfit coughed softly before saying, “You know, I saw a stand selling funnel cakes back in the festival. I should really be checking it out right now.” “Yeah, yeah, I’ll come with you,” Alucard said, trying to get out of the awkward situation. “I-I love a good funnel cake, especially when it’s c-covered in powdered sugar and that strawberry sauce. I really like it when it’s the stuff with the b-big chunks of strawberries and… um… well, we’ll leave you two to it then.” With that, the two lost souls left, leaving the father and son duo to stew in their awkward mess. Staring at his son in disbelief, Barney asked, “Wait, that’s what this is about? You’re still upset that I said that?” “Of course I’m upset about that, you dumbass!” Krockman shouted furiously. “Who says something like that to their son!?” “W-well, I was upset at the time,” Barney explained. “You were moving to a whole nother state, you were starting a brand new life, you were leaving your family behind… what was I supposed to say?” “Oh I don’t know, maybe something that doesn’t make you sound like a pissy little bitch!” Krockman retorted. “Maybe something like, ‘Good job, Cooper!’, or ‘Congratulations, Cooper!’, or maybe even something like, ‘I don’t understand any of this, but I understand that this is something that makes you happy and that you’re moving up in the world. I’m so proud of you and I know you’re gonna accomplish great things, son!’ You couldn’t be bothered to say anything positive about my big move at the time, could you? Honestly, I’m not surprised, seeing as you pulled the same crap with Andy when he told you he was dropping out of college and starting a brewery. You’re never going to be happy with any choice your sons make as long as it doesn’t involve becoming plumbers. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?! For us to become plumbers and start a family business!?” “Well excuse me for looking out for you two,” Barney retorted. “For your information, it’s not like I wanted to get into plumbing. It just happened, alright.” 

 

Hearing this, Krockman became confused. “What do you mean it just happened?” he asked, not sure what to make of it. “I thought you always wanted to be a plumber.” “No, I just became a plumber to pay the bills when your mother and I got married,” Barney explained. “Then we had Andy, and then you came along, so I ended up staying as a plumber and putting my dreams to the side… for you guys.” Looking surprised, Krockman said in reply, “I… I never knew that. What was it that you wanted to do?” Looking sheepish, Barney said in reply, “Well, I actually wanted to go into politics.” “Seriously?” Krockman asked. “You wanted to be a politician?” “I mean, I’ve thought about it from time to time. I’ve toyed with a few ideas to improve the town,” Barney continued. “But… y’know, life gets in the way, you’ve got bills to pay, and I stayed a plumber.” Shrugging his shoulders, Krockman said in reply, “Well, either way, you’d be dealing with a whole bunch of shit.” Barney only laughed at this, finding it genuinely funny. “Well, we better he’d back to the others. Your mother’s probably worried about us,” Barney said as he turned around and started heading back to the festival. Krockman did not say anything, too engrossed in this truth bomb his dad had dropped. 

 

Upon arriving back at the festival, Krockman and Barney found the rest of the group hanging around a funnel cake stand. While Alucard and Misfit were eating funnel cakes, Roquella was looking exasperated as a blonde woman droned on and on (though Krockman recognized her as his sister- in-law, Kelly). Walking up to the pair, Krockman said, “So Kelly, I see you made it. I didn’t see you back at the house.” “Oh hi Cooper,” Kelly said, noticing her brother-in-law. “I was just talking to your fiancé here (congratulations by the way), and I was telling her about my new hairdresser.” Looking confused, Krockman asked, “Okay… why?” “Oh y’know, because she’s Jewish too,” Kelly answered, only to notice her son messing around with something in the distance. “Sorry, hang on a second. Dylan’s got something and I can’t see what it is.” With that, she left the pair behind, shouting, “Dylan, sweetie! Don’t put that in your mouth! It’s not candy!” As Kelly ran off, Roquella only groaned as she rubbed her brow in annoyance. “I’m guessing that’s what you two were talking about while I was gone?” Krockman asked. Groaning, Roquella said in reply, “She did this the last time we came here. Why does she always mention every random Jewish person she can think of every time she talks to me?” “I think it’s because she’s dumb,” Krockman answered with a shrug. “I mean she makes my brother happy, she’s a good mother to my nephew, but god, she’s dumb.” 

 

“So how have you been holding up?” Roquella asked as she rubbed her brow. “Misfit and Alucard told me you were with your dad. What were you guys up to?” Shrugging his shoulders, Krockman answered, “Not much, though we did have an interesting conversation a little while ago. Apparently, he wanted to get into politics.” Looking surprised, Roquella asked, “Are you serious? He really wants to be a politician?” “Well he wanted to anyway,” Krockman continued. “Strangest thing is that I actually think he’s the best man for the job. He’s always ranting about the government, and frankly, from what I’ve seen, he can’t be any worse than the morons already in office.” 

 

At that moment, Krockman felt someone place a hand on his shoulder, his nose being assaulted by the smell of excessive hairspray. Turning around, the lost soul was confronted by the award winning smile of the town mayor, Mayor Whipple. The older man looked upon Krockman, overly whitened teeth displayed in a toothy grin set on a face that looked like an old, beaten up catcher’s mitt. With one hand on Krockman’s shoulder and the other one adjusting his $2 necktie, Whipple finally spoke up, “You’re Cooper Krockman, right? Barney’s kid? You’re the one that stuck it to Dartwood last year, right?” “Uh… yeah?” Krockman said, growing uncomfortable in the Mayor’s presence. “Well fantastic!” Whipple said proudly. “You may not remember me (what with making a name for yourself in the big city and all that), but I’m John Whipple, mayor of this fine town and professional parrot breeder.” Looking unimpressed, Krockman retorted, “Yeah, I know who you are, man. What do you want?” “Well, since you asked, I was hoping you could give a speech to the crowd here,” Whipple explained. “With the big football game between Faithsprings and Dartwood coming up, I feel like this is the thing the town needs (plus, since it’s my idea, it’ll really help me out during election day).” Feeling uncomfortable, Krockman simply replied, “Yeah, I’m not gonna do that. I’m just trying to enjoy some time with my family and friends, and honestly… I really don’t like you.” “Nonsense!” Whipple shouted as he pushed the lost soul towards a stage. “You’re gonna do fine. Everybody loves you.” 

 

Up on the stage, Krockman waited nervously as Whipple prepared to introduce him to the crowd. “H-hello everyone! May I have your attention please!” Whipple announced, the crowd turning their attention towards him. “This is Mayor Whipple speaking. I hope y’all are having a good time here at the festival. Anyway, as you all know, the big game between Faithsprings High and Dartwood High is coming up, and what better way to get into spirit than to hear a few inspiring words from someone who’s recently become a bit of a local hero to this town. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Cooper Krockman!” With the speech out of the way, the crowd burst into applause, ushering in a nervous Krockman to the mic. “Um, hey everyone. How’s it going?” Krockman said nervously, only to be met with a roar of applause. “Okay, good to hear. Listen, I wasn’t planning on coming up here on stage, but since I’m up here, I wanted to take a moment to talk about my ‘speech’ last year.” “Oh we know about the speech, bro! We’re all gearing up for the game because of it,” Dan shouted from the crowd as he pulled out a baseball bat. “Huh, that’s kind of the wrong equipment for the game, but alright. Anyway, when I was here last year, I was going through a rough time and I wasn’t…” Krockman continued, only to notice one of the people in the crowd pulling out something long and leathery. “What the hell? Is that a bullwhip?!” “Don’t worry, bro! It’s all for the game!” the man with the whip said in reply as other people began pulling out various improvised weapons, from tire irons to 2x4’s. “Uh… umm… o-ok, right,” the lost soul said, growing uncomfortable. “So as I was saying, I wasn’t really in a good place when I made that speech, and honestly, I…” It was at that moment when Krockman noticed someone pulling out a set of bottle rockets, pointing them at his friends and miming firing them into a crowd. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

 

“Alright, that is enough!!!” Krockman shouted ferociously, silencing the crowd instantly. “What are you doing? What in god’s name are you people doing? Arming yourselves for war over football? High school football?! Do you people even know why we watch sports in the first place? Distraction! It’s all a distraction from the fact that we’re all stuck on the same boat floating down the same river heading over the same damn waterfall. I don’t even remember making that speech when I came here. I mean seriously, Faithsprings and Dartwood? There isn’t a nickel’s worth of difference between the two towns. We both have a Hardee’s that’s somehow scraping by with a C- from the health department. We both have rundown shopping districts that are constantly being bought out by boutiques and novelty stores under the guise of gentrification, only to go out of business a month later due to lack of interest. We both have abandoned chemical plants that gave people plenty of job opportunities at the cost of polluting the local river, only to end up going under after a bunch of corporate stooges screwed us all over and made a lie of the American Dream. Instead of going at each other’s throats, you guys should be consoling each other over what complete shitholes these towns have become. More importantly, you shouldn’t use an angry, drunken rant with weird, homoerotic subtext as an excuse to go to war.” At that moment, Alucard piped in, “It’s okay, man! Just come out of the closet! It’s okay that you’re bi!” “Alucard, again, thank you for the input,” Krockman said in reply, slightly annoyed by the intrusion. “Anyway, what really makes this whole situation all the more ironic is that you people barely thought of me as anything noteworthy back in high school with me talking about The Hobbit or The Dresden Files, but the second I talk smack about Dartwood in a drunken rant, I’m the town hero. Seriously, you guys need to have some higher standards. I’m by no means a hero, but after what I’ve seen today, I can safely say that I’m better than all of you jackasses. Especially you Dan, you bone headed, peaking in high school, working in your dad’s tool shop, taking your son to the bar, kidnapping a high school student son of a bitch!” This caused the crowd to go silent, especially Dan, shrinking under the glares from his dad and wife. 

 

Sensing things were going south, Mayor Whipple stepped in, saying, “Ok, that was… something. Let’s hear it for Cooper Krockman, folks. So sad he has to go though… like, right now.” “And don’t get me started on our mayor!” Krockman continued, pointing an accusatory finger at Whipple. “This guy’s a huge part of the problem with this town! Hell, I can spend an hour on this guy’s looks alone!” “Well that seems a little…” Whipple said, only to be interrupted when Krockman began ripping into him. “The hair you have is more hairspray than hair at this point, your suit costs less than a cup of instant ramen, my wallet is more smooth and supple than your face (and that thing has been through some shit), your voice sounds like a muppet caught in a chokehold, and in the six years you’ve been in office, you’ve only passed one single law (one that only benefits you and your birds).” Looking offended, Whipple retorted, “Hey, I’ll have you know that parrots are noble and majestic creatures, and…” “They’re parrots!” Krockman snapped spitefully. “They crap all over the place, they never shut up, and they live for sixty years. Who wants a pet that you have to put in a will?” Looking towards the crowd and seeing his dad, Krockman continued, “Y’know, it’s funny, Whipple’s the most useless mayor this town has ever had, yet he’s been in office since I graduated high school. Seriously, you guys voted this guy into office twice. Frankly, you need someone in office who actually gives a damn about your opinions. Someone who will take the time to listen to you and your needs. Someone who’s come up with better ideas for this city while working on plumbing than Whipple ever did while in office. Someone… like my dad, Barney Krockman. That’s right, my dad has dreamt about this for a long time, and I aim to help him achieve his dream. So let’s celebrate this festival the American way: shotgunning fried foods, buying a bunch of cheap, useless crap we don’t even need, and pretending we’re not spiraling into oblivion; and remember: vote Barney Krockman for mayor!” A dead silence hung over the crowd when the lost soul finished. After trying to remember his high school mascot, Krockman awkwardly added, “Go Polecats.” Hearing this, the crowd erupted into a roaring applause, leaving Krockman feeling embarrassed at how easy it was to turn that around. 

 

Making his way back to the rest of the group, Krockman was quickly confronted by Andy and the others. “What in the world was that?” the elder Krockman brother asked. “Oh not much,” the lost soul said nonchalantly in reply. “Just setting right a terrible wrong is all.” “Righting a terrible wrong?” Andy asked incredulously. “Coop, that was you hurling twenty five years worth of pent up frustration at the town. And what was that bit at the end with you endorsing dad’s political campaign? Since when did he have any interest in running for office?” “He actually told me about it a little while ago,” Krockman explained. “I mean, he didn’t know I was going to make that little announcement back there, but I’m sure he’s fine with it.” At that moment, the brothers heard their dad bellow “Cooper!!!” before seeing him charging his way through the crowd toward them. Casting a side glance towards his brother, Andy remarked, “Something tells me he’s anything but fine with it.” 

 

Marching up to his son, Barney snapped, “Cooper, what the hell was that!? Why did you tell everyone I was running for office!?” “I’m just trying to be supportive of your dreams,” Krockman said in reply with a mischievous grin. “I mean, that’s what families do, right? Support each other’s dreams?” “Oh cut the crap,” Barney retorted furiously. “You didn’t do this because you care about my dreams. You did it to spite me.” Scowling at his dad, Krockman snapped, “Well maybe if you actually considered my dreams more seriously and didn’t spout all that shit you did when I moved to New York, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” “Oh my god, is that why you did all this?” Barney said in annoyance before calming down a bit. “Alright, fine, if that’s what you want, then I’m just gonna say it: Cooper, I’m sorry I said what I said. It was wrong, and I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry, and I care about you son.” Taken back a bit by this, Krockman simply stared at Barney in shock before saying, “Oh… okay… I don’t forgive you.” 

 

Looking confused by this, Barney asked in reply, “Excuse me? You don’t forgive me?” “No, I don’t,” Krockman answered shortly. “And do you want to know why? It’s because you don’t mean it now and you never did before.” “How are you so certain I don’t mean it?” Barney asked, slowly losing his patience. “Well it’s simple really,” Krockman explained. “You never apologized to me back when I was living in New York. Hell, you barely ever spoke to me back then, even when I was at my lowest. I was screwed over by my boss, lost my job, my girlfriend at the time left me, and when I called your cell to talk to you about it, you never answered. And now, after all this time, you apologize to me not to make amends or even out of guilt. You did it because you just wanted me to drop it. But instead of getting angry at you or yelling at you or making a big scene of it, I decided to take the high road and help you fulfill your dreams. Just picture it: the wronged son putting aside his own personal issues to help his dad become mayor. Doesn’t it just warm the heart.” “So that’s your plan? You swoop in, talk me up to the town, make yourself look like a hero, and I spend the rest of my life eating shit because I can’t say anything negative without looking like an ungrateful asshole?” Barney snapped. “Well you can forget it. Also, it’s not really sentimental if you tack it on the end of an insane rant like that.” Glaring at his dad, Krockman retorted, “First off, I think I have a right to rant at this dumpster fire of a town, considering how far they were gonna with that stupid football game. Second, I think you got off pretty easy, all things considered.” “The hell is that supposed to mean?” Barney asked, growing more tense. “It means exactly what it sounds like, old man!” Krockman retorted before the two descended into a heated argument. 

 

As the two men argued, Martha watched on, slowly getting fed up with the pair. Finally, after bearing witness to the pointless argument, she reached her breaking point. “Oh for fuck sake, will you two stop fighting and act a normal family for five goddamn seconds!” Martha roared, causing the father and son to stop their argument. “Cooper, your dad loves you. He just doesn’t know how to express it, and he got upset when you left for New York, so he lashed out,” Mrs. Krockman continued. “And Barney, you told your son that you wished he was never born. Of course he’s not going to forgive you. The fact that he got your political career rolling is pretty generous, all things considered. If anything, you should be thanking Cooper for helping you.” “B-but what about my job, and looking after Dylan, and…” Barney said nervously in reply, only to be cut off by his wife. “You barely even helped with our own kids, let alone with Dylan! Now, I think you and Cooper should hug it out.” Shaking his head no, Krockman piped up, “Yeah, I’m not hugging him.” Without batting an eye, Martha snapped, “Cooper, you hug your father or so help me god, I will shove you up into my hoo-ha, birth you back out, and rename you ‘my bitch’!” Fearing the wrath of a furious, southern mom, Krockman and Barney hugged each other, much to Martha’s satisfaction. 

 

Satisfied with her son and husband, Martha turned her attention to the rest of the group. “Alright, now that that’s been settled, let’s focus on the rest of you. I’ve got a lot of problems with you people!” she shouted furiously, turning towards Bathory first. “Bathory, I know when you called my house ‘modest’, you really mean dumpy. Well I’ll have you know, I’m proud of my home and I’m not going to be talked down to by the likes of you; so get off your weird high horse, you pretentious shrew. Andy, stop wrestling your brother every time he comes back. It’s weird and it creeps everyone else out. Kelly, stop bringing up every random Jewish person you can think of every time you talk to Roquella. She’s not going to know any of them. Alucard, the last time you were here, you went on and on about your ex girlfriend. Either move on or keep it to yourself and stop trying to make it everyone else’s problem. Misfit… actually, you're okay. You haven’t done anything to annoy me. Roquella…” Looking nervous, Roquella meekly asked, “Yes?” At that moment, the lost soul was caught in a hug by her future mother-in-law, who happily shouted, “Welcome to the family!!!” As she was squeezed in the older woman’s vice grip, Roquella looked over at Krockman, who was in his own awkward hug, and mouthed, “I’m scared.” Krockman only mouthed in reply, “You should be.” 

 

After the hullabaloo of the festival, the group had made their way back to the Krockman household as dusk began to set in. Sitting on the front porch, Krockman, Roquella, Alucard, and Misfit sat on the back porch, watching the fireflies light up for their nightly spectacle. “Well… that was something,” Alucard said, breaking the awkward silence. “Yeah, that didn’t go as well as I thought it would,” Krockman said with a sigh. Glancing over at Krockman, Alucard asked, “How well did you expect this to turn out? And how exactly is any of this supposed to explain why you won’t deal with Emily?” “I’m getting to that, don’t worry about it,” Krockman explained. “And honestly, that was only a small part of it. The other part of it was… well, I just wanted to see if I could make things right with my family, y’know. Is that so bad?” “Of course not,” Misfit interjected. “Frankly, I think that's the most mature thing you've done since I’ve known you. Believe me, I wish I had the opportunity to do the same.” This brought Krockman a little comfort. 

 

At that moment, Andy came out onto the porch, carrying a small cooler in his hand. “Hey guys, how are y’all doing?” he asked as he held up the cooler. “Brought y’all a little something to take the edge off: the brewery’s new IPA.” “Oh thanks man! Just what the doctor ordered,” Krockman said as he took a beer and cracked it open. Nodding in agreement, Andy added, “Yeah, well I figured that you needed it after today; what with dad and all.” “Well I’m proud of Cooper,” Roquella said as she took her own beer. “It couldn’t have been easy to come back down here after last time, but he did.” “That’s nice of you to say, Roquella,” Krockman said with a grin. “In fact, now that you’ve mentioned it, I was thinking we should pay your family a visit (tell them the good news and all that).” Hearing this, a chill ran up the blushing bride’s spine. “Oh… visiting my family you say?” Roquella said as she fiddled with the tab of her beer can. “That sounds… that sounds… that…” It was at that moment, without even realizing it, she accidentally broke the tab off the can. Seeing this, the lost soul hastily pulled out a pen, stabbed it into the side of the can, and quickly sucked out the beer; the sheer force of which left her panting and dribbling suds. Krockman only stared in shock and awe before saying, “Christ on a bike, I’ve never been more turned on.” Hearing this, Roquella cast a side glance towards her future husband, smiling a wily grin as she asked in reply, “Well are you just gonna sit on it, or are you gonna do something about it?” “Race you to my old bedroom!” Krockman shouted excitedly, making it clear to everyone what the two lovebirds had in mind as they ran into the house, giggling like a couple of horny lunatics. 

 

As the two were running through the house, Krockman asked, “So, you feel like doing a little foreplay first!? I was thinking maybe you could be the landlady and I’m the tenant who missed out on last month’s rent and trying to make it worth your while.” “Forget the foreplay!” Roquella said excitedly. “It’s been a while since we’ve done this and mama needs her cardi-oh god.” Confused by this, Krockman was going to ask what was wrong, only to see his dad standing just around the corner. Looking awkwardly at the older man, Krockman said, “Uh, hey there dad. H-how much of that did you hear?” “I heard enough,” Barney said in reply, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. “So… are you two gonna… y’know?” Shrugging uncomfortably, Krockman answered, “Yeah, we were, and I know you’re all about waiting before marriage and stuff…” “Actually, considering we got Dylan because your brother didn’t wait, I’m kind of over that,” Barney said in reply. “At this point, all I can say is just use protection and don’t make a mess.” “Okay then,” Krockman said in reply, growing a little antsy. “Thanks for the fatherly advice. Now if you’ll excuse us, we gotta get going.” Before the pair could leave, Barney interjected, “Actually Cooper, do you mind staying back here for a bit? I want to have a little talk with you.” “Um, okay,” Krockman said nervously. “Hey Roquella, you go on ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.” “Don’t be too long,” Roquella said with a mischievous grin before running towards the bedroom, leaving father and son alone in the hallway. 

 

After a brief, awkward silence, Krockman finally spoke up, “So… what did you want to talk about?” “Well, it’s about earlier at the festival, during your little ‘speech’,” Barney said in reply. “Oh geez dad,” Krockman groaned in exasperation. “Look, I was going through some stuff, dealing with some issues from the past, plus some new stuff that’s recently cropped up at work, and I…” “Did you really mean it?” Barney interjected. “That stuff about my mayoral campaign, did you really mean what you said back there about me being the man for the job?” “Honestly, yeah I did,” Krockman answered. “I mean seriously, do you really think you’d be any worse than Captain parrot guy? You have good ideas, dad. Share them with the world (though, try not to say anything about Jews or race issues, it gives people the wrong idea about you).” “Yeah, yeah, I get, but thanks Cooper,” Barney said in reply. “And for what it’s worth, I really am happy for you and Roquella. She’s a lucky girl.” Smiling at this, Krockman simply replied, “Thanks dad.” 

 

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Krockman, one that had been weighing on his mind the whole trip. “Hey dad, can I ask you for a favor?” he asked, trying to word his request as carefully as possible. “Do you remember that file you showed me the last time I was here… the one about your little ‘deposit’?” “My little deposit? What’re you…” Barney asked, only to realize what he meant. “Oh god, you want that? Why the hell do you want that? That’s disgusting.” “Oh sure, you find it disgusting,” Krockman retorted. “But when you told me that’s where you got the money for my Christmas present when I was four, it’s perfectly fine (I still can’t look at transformers the same way again).” “Hey, business was bad that year. We were strapped for cash,” Barney defended himself. “You wanted that damn robot so bad, and the sperm bank offered really good money for donations (plus the magazine they gave me didn’t hurt things).” Shaking his head, Krockman said, “L-look, we’re getting off track here. I just need the file you got from the sperm bank to help settle a dispute at work. I mean, you should be all for this. You’re running for office now. The paparazzi’s gonna be riding your ass for any juicy gossip. Trust me, the sooner you get rid of that file, the better.” “Yeah, that’s a fair point,” Barney said in reply. “So do you want it now, or do you want it after you and Roquella… y’know?” “Afterwards,” Krockman answered. “I can not stress how badly we need this.” “Alright, alright, go on. Go to your future wife,” Barney said when an idea popped into his head. “Actually Cooper, before you go, you’re not just going to leave tomorrow, are you? Andy was talking about taking the family to Kings Dominion, and I thought, maybe you and the others would like to come along.” Looking surprised, Krockman said in reply, “Really? That sounds great. Thanks dad.” With that, Krockman went to his bedroom, leaving his father on his own. 

 

Looking down the hallway, Barney began to make his way towards his basement. Some would say that keeping a firebox in your basement would be overkill, but then again, Barney had always been a little paranoid; especially when he was keeping a file from the sperm bank in there. That file… that was the first time he had actually thought about it in a while. Thinking back, he could actually recall the day he got the file from the bank. It was also the same day he met the young couple that received it. An over eager pair, they were, especially the wife, practically announcing it to the whole waiting room that he was the donor. Though he did feel bad for them, seeing as they came all the way from Seattle just to get the sample. He assumed it was just a new parents thing. They even told him what they were going to name the kid: Emily, Emily Sanchez. 

**************************************************************

 

The wind swept over the wasteland as Willam and the others made their way through the piles of junk and scrap. Ever since he decided to go save Emily from herself, Willam knew he would not be able to do it on his own. Having already recruited Sophie to help him, he also recruited the scraps of Fort Abraxas as well. Now with his little band, Willam was certain that he had a fighting chance. 

 

As the little band walked on, the wind slowly began to pick up. “So how much further is False Orchard from here?” Kama asked, shielding his face from the windswept sand with his arm. “Normally, it’d be a day’s walk from the fort,” Willam said in reply. “But if this wind gets any worse, we’ll have to find shelter for the night and pick back up tomorrow.” “Tomorrow?” Teddi asked curiously. “But we have to go get there now! We need to get mama out of that place as soon as possible.” “We’ll get there soon enough,” Sophie said in reply. “The problem is, even if we can strong arm our way through the storm, we probably won’t have much strength to save Emily tonight. We have to find shelter now, while we still can.” 

 

It was at that moment, as if by divine providence, the group noticed something shining in the distance. As they approached it, they could see that it was some sort of ramshackle hut cobbled together from pieces of junk; a bit of an eyesore, but it looked sturdy enough to last the night. “Well look at that. Ask and ye shall receive,” Willam said as he approached the front door. “I wonder if anyone’s home.” Having arrived at the door, the young lost soul knocked on the door, only to be met with an annoyed groan. “Huh, talk about rolling out the red carpet,” Caliber piped up sarcastically. “You’d think whoever lived here would be a little more welcoming, like firing a round of buckshot through the door or chucking a brick at us through the window.” Willam only shrugged uncomfortably at this, still not used to Caliber’s enlightened form and more… bitter personality. He certainly was not expecting to see the scrap’s new form when he arrived at Fort Abraxas, let alone how unsettlingly different from his old self he was. For now, that was something he’d deal with later. Right now, the owner of the hut was approaching the door. 

 

After a few, tense minutes of waiting, the door opened up, revealing the owner to be none other than Mac. The laptop scrap simply glared at his guests, clearly unamused by the situation, and said, “Y’know, one of these days I’m going to open a door and actually be happy to see who’s on the other side… today’s not that day.” “It’s good to see you too, Mac,” Willam said, trying to be courteous. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Shaking his head, Mac retorted, “Not long enough for my taste. What are you all doing out here anyway?” “Funny, I could ask you the same question,” Willam asked in reply. “Aren’t you supposed to be up in False Orchard?” “Not anymore,” Mac retorted, folding his arms across his chest. “Ever since Emily took over, I haven’t lived in False Orchard in forever.” Surprised by this, Willam asked, “You mean she kicked you out of your own home?” “No, I left when her business took off and haven’t been back since,” the scrap explained. “Honestly, I’m not even sure she knew I left. Funny, isn’t it, how I offered that woman a place to stay, and now I’m the one that’s homeless.” “Really now?” Willam said in reply. “What if I told you we might be able to get your home back and get rid of Emily at the same time?” Intrigued by this, Mac simply stepped to the side and said, “In that case, come on in. We’ve got a lot to discuss.” With that, the group made their way into the hut. 

 

Inside, Willam noticed a couple of things about the interior. For starters, the furnishings were spartan at best, with nothing but a small table and a few chairs filling the space. The second was that they were not the only guests to the hut. Sitting at the table were a pair of scraps, one being a feather duster scrap wearing a white mask that Willam recognized as Plumella; the other being a strange, pale, armless scrap with limp blue legs, white hair, a red thermal onesie, and a long blue and white striped scarf serving as his arms. Seeing the young lost soul, Plumella stood up in astonishment, saying, “Oh, Master Willam, it’s good to see you again.” “It’s good to see you too, Plumella,” Willam said in reply. “I’m a little surprised to see you out here though. I thought you were living with Miss Bathory.” “Yeah, it’s a long, long story. Trust me, you don’t want to know the details,” the scarf scrap said, extending a tasseled hand for a handshake. “I’m Wrappa by the way. I’m a friend of Teddi’s.” “Well, any friend of Teddi’s is a friend of mine,” Willam said in reply as he accepted Wrappa’s handshake, only to shudder at how frigidly cold the scrap’s touch was. 

 

“Yes, yes, they were working at False Orchard for Emily until she drove them out,” Mac interjected. “Speaking of which, you mentioned something about getting rid of Emily and getting my house back. Killing two birds with one stone and all that.” “Ah right, about that,” Willam said as he shook the cold out of his hand. “You see, when I found out that cousin Cooper wasn’t going to do anything about Emily, I decided to take it upon myself to go save her and bring her back to the mortal realm. Problem is, with this storm coming to a head, we need to take shelter for the night. So if it’s alright with you, do you mind if we stay here for the night. By the time morning comes, we’ll be on our way to False Orchard and you can go back to… whatever it is you’re doing out here.” Staring at Willam, Mac simply smiled and said, “I’ll do you one better. When morning comes, I’ll join you guys. If it means getting that nut job out of my house, I’m all in.” “Oh, I’ll help too!” Plumella interjected excitedly. “Yeah, count me in (especially if I can get closer to Teddi)!” Wrappa added. Amazed by this, Willam said, “That’s wonderful! Alright then, tomorrow morning, we set out for False Orchard and free Emily.” The whole group cheered at this. 

 

Later on, as the sky grew darker and the others were getting ready to go to sleep, Mac stood at a window and stared out into the wasteland. As he stared out the window, Mac heard someone approach and stand by his side. Looking to his side, he saw that it was Calibur, or at least the strange, enlightened version of him. Looking back at the other scrap, Calibur asked, “What are you looking at out there?” “I’m just looking towards the way that leads to False Orchard and just… thinking,” Mac answered as he eyed the larger scrap over. “I see you’ve achieved enlightenment. What exactly happened to you?” Looking solemn, Calibur simply answered, “Let’s just say I had to deal with some dark truths about my past.” “You mean how Krockman used you to drive out the ferals from the ruins of Babel?” Mac asked in reply. “You… you knew about that?!” Calibur asked, completely taken by surprise. “How did… how did you…” “I used a drone to watch you guys while I was back in False Orchard,” Mac explained, before quickly and defensively adding, “Look, it’s not like I had much to do at the time. I was bored and alone.” 

 

“Right then,” Calibur said, trying to change the awkward conversation. “So what have you been up to lately? You mentioned that you let Emily stay at your place. Kinda sucks that she drove you out of your own home.” Looking down, Mac sighed as he answered, “Well, to be fair, it wasn’t entirely her fault. She was tricked by this big, fat guy named Bob ‘the Blob’ McQueen and converted my place into a hotel. God, I hated that guy.” “Sounds to me we have to watch out for this McQueen guy when we get to False Orchard,” Calibur said in reply, nodding as he placed his chin in his hand. “Not really,” Mac interjected. “I actually entered my rage burst form, snatched him up while he was taking a piss, and bit him in half like a chocolate truffle.” Hearing this, Calibur was both shocked and horrified. “You did what?!” he asked in horror. “Why would you do something like that?!” “Well it’s not like I would’ve done it beforehand,” the laptop scrap continued. “But ever since my talk with Yaldabaoth…” “I’m sorry, Yaldabaoth? As in the Demiurge?” Calibur asked skeptically. “That’s impossible. No one’s ever seen him in eons.” “I did and it was incredible,” Mac retorted. “Anyway, as I was saying, Yaldabaoth told me some interesting things about society, and after I thought about it for a little while, I have to say that he made some good points. So while Emily and her cronies patted themselves on the back for doing nothing, Krockman and his cronies stood idly by and did nothing to stop her, and both sides smugly damn each other behind their backs, I did what the old serpent suggested I should do, what I had to do, and gave them all something to worry about. Mind you, I wish I hadn’t taken such a huge bite out of McQueen. My jaws are still sore just thinking about it.” 

 

“That was the start of this weird little war of mine. It’s been going on for… oh, several months or so now,” Mac continued wistfully. “Now, you may be wondering why I’m going to all this trouble harassing people, and all I can really say it could be any reason really. I hated Emily for the grubby, little tyrant she’s become, growing more deluded with each passing day. I despise her so-called friends, both of whom clearly resent Emily for who she’s become but unwilling to do anything about it. I’ve personally tore up Chad’s nose a while back, and now he has to wear a prosthetic in its place (he looks like a scarecrow now). As for Chelsea, she’s come to fancy herself as my arch nemesis and tries to attack me every chance she gets. She’s become a personal favorite of mine. I tease her, toy with her, torment her, attacking everyone but her just to deny her the sweet release she so desperately craves. I admire Jojo and Mona for their continuing perseverance, but resent them for their pious neutrality. 

 

It was at this moment that Mac grew quiet, a scowl crossing his face. “And then there’s the root of all my misery: Krockman,” he growled. “So smug and full of himself in his little fort, but I know for a fact that the noose is tightening around his neck. For all his powers, only his wits are keeping him from going under, and even those are barely helping him get by. Not only does he have to deal with Emily, but now the powers that be are conspiring against him. They want him to get rid of Emily just as much as everyone else, but for whatever reason, Krockman still refuses to act. If that weren’t enough, I’ve heard rumors of a new afterlife forming in the southwest of Limbo, some weird hippie, vegan cult that’s slowly gaining traction ever since its founder died in a car accident. Now that he’s dealing with all three of these factions, Krockman’s losing what’s left of his mind: a king with absolute authority rendering himself impotent with self enforced absolute restrictions. Regardless of who is pissing me off, it seems that the Demiurge was on to something with his suggestions; that I’m fulfilling some cosmic balance with my actions in this one dim spark in the long, dull fall to the bottom of eternity (end quote).” 

 

Looking at Mac in utter shock, Calibur shook his head as he asked, “But why though? Why do any of this to begin with? What does it even accomplish?” “Why? Why? Why?” Mac snapped mockingly. “Why anything? Why do what I do? Well, why wouldn’t I? Do you think either Emily or Krockman felt even a twinge of guilt for how they treated me? Do either of them even think of me at all? More importantly, if I were to immediately stop what I’m doing, head over to False Orchard and accept her worldview, would Emily accept me with open arms? Offer me a seat at the table with a cold drink and a hot meal and a party in my honor? Better yet, why do I even have to justify myself to you? Why should I change my ways? Why does a wolf continue to be a wolf when it’s so much easier being a dog? The answer is obvious: I don’t have to explain a single damn thing to you or anyone else, so just drop it!!!” Shaking his head in disappointment, Calibur simply walked off to find a place to sleep, muttering, “Jesus Christ, you’ve completely lost it. How the hell are you going to manage when we get there?” 

 

Staring at the sword scrap as he walked away, Mac could not help but be impressed (or at least he would have if he forgot that this was Calibur). Whatever enlightenment did to him, he certainly wasn’t the same scrap he knew before. But whatever insight he might have, it didn’t really matter. He had not lost anything. If anything, he had never been more sure of himself in his life. Deciding to reassure himself, Mac decided to list off the various blessings he knew he had. 

 

1. His mind was sound. 

1. His body was sound. 

1. Despite everything that happened to it, his home was sound.

1. He had yet to commit the ultimate act of nihilism: he had to hurt, maim, mangle, or shatter anyone who didn’t deserve it… 

1. …yet. 

 

As night fell and everyone was fast asleep on the floor (considering the lack of beds), Mac tossed and turned restlessly on the table as he was plagued by an eerie dream. He was caught in a furious blizzard, dragging himself through the snow on his hands and knees. Just as he collapsed in the snow, he caught a glimpse of a great beast, brilliant white light shining from its eyes. All Mac could remember after that before passing out completely was that the beast let loose a shrill, but bellowing roar at him that chilled him to his very core.