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Thee Tale of Smogonne -- It's back!

Policemen get to a point, naturally, at which they think they've seen everything. I guess that's a bit of a clichéd phrase, but they seriously think that yellow rats making entire buildings explode is the wackiest sight they'll ever see. Perhaps setting the new standard, however, was the scene that lay before this current officer of the law. One man was quite casually leaning on a piece of burning wreckage, nonchalantly sipping some tea, while two people were attempting to salvage as many springs from the seats as possible. Half of this pair paused in his work to question the either.

"Hey NJ, what the funck are we doing?"
"Bombiron wants to make Spoink models."
"Oh."

Attempting to mirror the indifference of the tea-drinker, the policeman ambled over and got out his notebook. Getting out the notebook was standard procedure: you could use it to take down notes, throw it to stun advancing thugs, and many other things. This particular officer had used it to scribble down various equations, and long words like magnetohydrodynamics. I'm guessing that's about Marvel villains having a drink.

"Sir, is this your vehicle?"
"Err, no. Not exactly, no. I guess you could say it's a company car? I suppose I do own it partly, though."
"Well, I was going to pull you over earlier, but fortunately you did that without my intervention."

The policeman gave a wry smile. All MK wanted was a rye smile.

"It appears that, in the course of your itinery, you have broken a number of rules currently enacted in CAP state."
"Ah. Um. What would these be, officer?"
"Breaking the speed limit, exceeding the number of persons permitted in a vehicle, and most of all attempting to save puppies from obvious slaughter. Did you not consider, sir, that those vermin were in the middle of the road for a reason? Now I'm going to have to get rid of them some other way."

He turned away for a second and mumbled to himself. Az automatically tried to listen in, but didn't catch everything -- only fleeting words like "sack", "river" and "bricks".

"How was the vehicle too full? There are only four of us."
"Five."
"I only count four."
"I count five."

The policeman gave another wry smile -- they were his speciality, after all.

"I refer to the gentleman situated beneath your nose, sir."
"Policeman man
are you
serious?
v_v"
"I'd like you to come down to the station to answer some more questions, please."

***

Ok yeah, Az is definitely a funny guy. Unfortunately that doesn't get you very far during an interrogation -- that is, unless you define "very far" as "down the corridor to a jail cell".

The cell door creaked open ominously -- as all such doors are required to do (it's in their contract) -- and a man inside leaped to his feet at the sound.

"Dusk! Dusk! You're here to let me out, right? Come on, locking me up for something like 'plantlady'?"
"You're relentless, Rodan, and for that you're staying here for now."
"But whyyy? I'll be good, you know. I'll get a new name: a fresh start! Wait, I know you. You're Az!"
"What the funck, I thought I would never see you again."
"It's your lucky--"
"--forsooth, unlucky."
"--day! You can get me out of here, right?"​


I was going to write more but it's getting late -- expect this chapter to continue!
 
I absolutely love your writing style man! It's such an enjoyable read despite me not getting the majority of the references. Your style reminds me of Terry Pratchett or Douglas Adams.
You couldn't just edit all the chapters into the OP could you? It would make it much easier to follow.

P.S. Congrats on the 3k.
 
Corkscrew said:
You couldn't just edit all the chapters into the OP could you? It would make it much easier to follow.

I'm planning to do that at the end: for now I'm just keeping everything in single posts (it gives it more of a serialised feel). And thank you for the kind words!

The man, apparently called Rodan was a strange sight to see in a jail cell. He seemed to be quite a... 'rotund' fellow, of a cheerful disposition. You could describe him pretty aptly as "happy go-lucky" -- that is, he's happy that your luck has gone. Currently he was rubbing his hands in glee, in fact, that three moderators had joined him in the cell. Three moderator's and a chin, I mean.

"I know, you can get me out of here, Alch! We go way back, you know. Back in the days when I was called Mordock."
"Forsooth, prior to the alterations of nomenclature to 'King Igor' and 'Music is my BOYFRIEND.'"
"Yeah, but that's all in the past now. Let's bury the hatchet, eh? What's a hatchet anyway?"
"Forsooth, an implement of woodcutting."
"Oh. Hey, Az, get in on this conversation. You use hatchets to chop down trees. Who would have thought it?"
"Shut the funck up, Rodumb."

Az was sitting quietly in a corner, stroking his manly stubble in deep contemplation. Admittedly he had to use a pole for this task, but the effect was in no way diminished. Nastyjungle was attempting to rest her head soothingly on his shoulder, but had already received some minor cuts from his cactus jaw.

"How the funck did this happen? I don't even like CAP that much. Well, I mean, don't get me wrong I don't dislike it. I just never come here. When I finally do I get arrested? What the funck Alch? This is totally your fault. v_v"
"Forsooth, perchance might I inquire as to the nature of aforemade accusation?"
"Well if you got that damn car serviced then we wouldn't be here! To be honest, if you hadn't kicked up a shitstorm about the whole makiri thing then we never would have left. I could have been playing Skyrim right now -- right now!"
"Forsooth, it is the responsibility of all moderators to uphold and verily exorcise malfunctioning amongst the automobile."
"Jeez I can't even understand what the funck you're saying. Where's that guy who translates?"

All eyes turned to the corner of the cell. MK was very good at standing in corners and generally being unobstrusive. Then again, he ended up being unobtrusive even when stood out in the open. Still, for some reason he wasn't in that corner. Nor was he in the other corners. Even more surprisingly, Rodan claimed he hadn't eaten him.

"Did he somehow not get arrested?"
"Forsooth, manyleaved botany often affords exceptional disguise."
"I mean, he was hiding in a bush, Az."
"Good point, nj. What did Alch say?"
"I don't have a clue."

A rapping on the grille alerted their attention. It seemed that the cell was underground, since the man on the outside was lying flat on some broken glass. It might have been easier to sympathise with him if he hadn't smashed the bottles.

"Hi guys, it's me!"
"Hey, Az, it's a helpful citizen!"

She looked away sheepishly.

"We can escape and live together forever... Or as long as you want, I guess? I mean, you don't have to commit to anything. You could just be a lodger I guess? You wouldn't have to pay anything though. That doesn't mean..."

Az gave her a confused look and tilted his head on one side, dislodging a light on the other side of the room with his jaw. He turned back to the man at the grille.

"I think we've lost one of our, um, compatriots, sir. Could you maybe find him for us? We're in a bit of a bad position here."
"Oh hey, it's MK!"

Rodan tucked the rat's tail into his mouth and licked his lips. The others looked quizzically at him.

"Who?"
"You know, the guy you're looking for. Hi MK!"
"Hey Rodan."
"Oh, that guy? He's MK?"
"Yeah, it's me!"
"Right... well, could you get us out?"
"I'll see what I can do."

Az slumped back onto the bench, and rested his head on his hands. Ok, NJ supplied her hands too.

"That's what we've been reduced too -- putting our fate in the hands of a total stranger."

***

The scales of darkness and light had already tipped in the moon's favour by the time MK approached the headquarters. Ok, I'll admit that's an odd way of describing things, but there needs to be a strange metaphor in here occasionally, right? He peered into the foyer. It was completely dark, apart from some moonlight splashing in like a Magikarp from a skylight. Ok then, have two strange metaphors.

"Ah, I know you."
"Who are you, bender?"
"No need to talk like that to me, young man. I'm going to help you."
"How do you even know what I'm doing?"
"I've been around long enough to know what everyone's doing, fool. Seven years. Eight thousand posts. I even have a tutor alumnus!"
"Err, great."
"You don't know me? I'm The Great Aeroblacktyl!"
"Can't say I do, sorry."

The man sighed. Usually people would roll over more easily than this, or at least they would pretend to do so.

"I'm MoP."
"Oh, the tr--"
"Don't say it. I'm undercover, you see? Helping you, that is."
"Whatever. How are you going to help me?"
"You hear this?"

A small jingling noise came from the man's pocket.

"You have a Chingling? How's that going to help, it sux."
"Dammit no, fool! I have the keys."
"How do you, an apparently miscellaneous and unimportant character, have something so crucial to the plot?"
"So you can making shocking references to this point in time later in the story. Anyway, let's go."

The man stalked off into the headquarters, unabashed. MK thought it would be better to check for any staff first, but MoP didn't seem to care -- he'd just take the punishment if it happened. Nevertheless, it appeared that Officer Dusk wasn't back from his trip down to the river yet, and he found MoP already waiting in front of the cells.

"Alright, which of these miscreants are your friends? Is it this guy?"

Morm looked up for a moment, before returning to his task of rock-scraping.

"No, it's the one on the other side."
"Oh, look. It's the jailers. What do you want us to do now?"
"No, it's me: MK! Don't you remember me? We only talked a few hours ago."
"Who's this random man you have with you, stranger?"
"This is--"
"I'm undercover, remember?"
"Oh, right. This is Undercover, and he has the keys!"

MoP dutifully unlocked the door of the cell, and everyone scrambled out. For the first time in years, Morm was inadvertently hit with the wrath of Az's jaw, but other than that his exit was uneventful.

"I... I can't get out!"

Turning back, it seemed that Rodan was stuck in the doorway of the cell. He tried to wiggle out, but his girth was simply too enormous to free himself.

"But I was so close! I was almost free!"

Nastyjungle tapped him on the hand reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Rodan. You'll be out soon. A couple of weeks, I guess."

Rodan hung his head as the troupe escaped; Alchemator was environmentally-conscious enough to turn the lights off as he left, so Rodan was left in darkness. He waited.

And waited.

And kept waiting.​

 
Oh hey, I found the plot!

Looming disconcertingly above visitors was, as you might say, a speciality. In fact -- since it had been given enough time, and only time -- the structure seemed to have perfected it. The shattered roof tiles on the ground appeared more as battlescars than remnants of a past storm; the door hanging on by only one hinge was symbolic of courage, rather than shoddy workmanship.

Alright, fine, it was a dilapidated wreck. Happy now?

The building had never wanted it to be that way, I hope you understand. It's like that Oscar Wilde quote, which -- as a matter of fact -- the building remembered well. After all, it had been burned inside it enough times. "Over the piano was printed a notice: Please do not shoot the pianist. He is trying his best."

Not everyone could be imposing all of the time. Well, apart from Az. Then again, what were the chances of--

"What the funck is this?"
"Forsooth, this is the bâtiment in which Smogon's governing body convenes in order that they might pursue ideolificatory endeavours."
"'People shout at each other, to little effect.'"
"Maybe they should focus more on working together, instead of fighting?"
"Shut the funck up, NJ, friendship is for dincks. v_v"
"I was kidding; only losers have feelings. v_v"

The Inside Scoop shuddered in anticipation. Trouble was brewing, it knew that much. Alchemator would have preferred to brew something else, admittedly.

***

Evan tried to throw the curtain back into place angrily, just as a tone-setter for the crowd watching him, and occasionally changing position in their seats. It would have been a pretty good one too, if it hadn't come away in his hand. He gave the cobwebbed cloth an experimental flourish, but decided to discard it. He coughed awkwardly.

"I think we have guests."

It hadn't exactly been an easy ride for Evan. Spending chapters 2-6 entirely off-camera, as it were, didn't really fit the part of subvillain very well. I'll just have to make it up now, he supposed, and then die heroically -- no, devilishly! -- while I still have the chance. Maybe I can squeeze an evil laugh in there too. I haven't done one of those in ages. Mwah. Mwahaha? Mwa ha ha? Hm, I'll work on it later.

"Everything alright, Evan?"
"What? Oh, yeah. Totally."
"What's with the laugh?"
"Nothing, everything's fine."

makiri furrowed his brow.

"Can we get this over with, then? I don't care about this badge thing anyway, and Sharapova's on Centre Court in a couple of hours."
"Oh, right. Yeah. Of course."

Evan looked over at another person sitting around the table, who produced a suitcase from nowhere and opened it. Nobody knows where these people store their suitcases, or why they don't keep suits in them.

"What, that's it?"
"Shut up, I've worked hard to try and get you this."
"It really does fit the name of the 'Plain badge'."

***

"Forsooth, do you think we are beyond the point in time after which we might be disconcerted with the lack of suitable psychological recompense?"
"Shut up, Alch."
"Forsooth."
"Hey, Az, there's one of those automated system things over there."

Az cautiously wandered over to the pillar. It seemed pretty harmless, at least. Above the grille, presumably where the sound came from, was a small placard with a single word printed on it. Az pressed a button, and a tinny voice began to speak.

"WELCOME TO INSIDE SCOOP. I AM NOAH. WOULD YOU LIKE TO LODGE A COMPLAINT?"
"Uh, yeah I guess."
"WHAT IS THE SUBJECT OF YOUR COMPLAINT?"
"Well, you see it's--"
"PRESS 1 FOR UNFAIR WARNINGS. PRESS 2 FOR PO MODERATORS. PRESS 3 FOR ALCHEMATOR'S PUNS. PRESS 4 FOR BLARAJAN. PRESS 5 TO SPEAK TO AN OPERATOR."
"Oh, um. I guess we need five?"
"But there isn't a five on the keypad."
"YOU HAVE SURPASSED THE AMOUNT OF TIME ALLOTTED TO SELECT A CATEGORY."
"Forsooth, such a malhappening is unfortunate."
"WELCOME TO INSIDE SCOOP. I AM NOAH. WOULD YOU LIKE TO LODGE A COMPLAINT? PRESS--"
"Ok, ok, I'll get it right this time."
"YOU HAVE SURPASSED THE--"
"Vending moderating computer machine man
are you
serious?
v_v"

MK pushed Az out of the way, and grabbed the machine by its testicles. Technically you shouldn't be able to do that to a machine, but sometimes you have to defy the laws of nature to get what you want.

"Unlock all doors in the building, you bender."
"OH. RIGHT. I GUESS I WILL, THEN. GOODBYE."

There was a faint click somewhere in the depths of the crumbling building, and then the light on the machine switched off. MK relaxed his grip, and the machine seemed to relax a little as the group rushed up the stairs.

"You know, had MK been here I think he could have solved that. Still, thanks stranger!"

***

Evan cleared his throat awkwardly. Again.

"So, um, I confer upon you this... this, uh..."
"I believe the term is 'Artist Badge', Evan."

The sparkly badge made a little tinkling noise as it hit the floor. Evan quickly picked it up and gave it a polish, glaring at the man who had spoken.

"I didn't expect to see you here."
"Naturally; that's why you didn't see me earlier."
"What?"

Hookline Ansinker sighed.

"Just an observation about the world. It seems you don't observe much at all. Anyway, your procedure is all wrong. Back in my day, you'd just get the damned thing. None of this fancy stuff. Even then, though, you're still doing it wrong."
"Uh, right. I don't see how you care though; you were the one who set this whole thing up. Why are you delaying me?"
"The heroes need their dramatic entrance, and I can hear them coming up the stairs."​

 
"What the funck is this?"
"Forsooth, this is the bâtiment in which Smogon's governing body convenes in order that they might pursue ideolificatory endeavours."
"'People shout at each other, to little effect.'"
"Maybe they should focus more on working together, instead of fighting?"
"Shut the funck up, NJ, friendship is for dincks. v_v"
"I was kidding; only losers have feelings. v_v"

ahahahhaha this exchange is genius and I love you dearly with all my heart
 
The entirely-planned ten days of hype-building have finally come to an end! Are you ready?

I'm not really, but let's make a go of this anyway.

Everyone needs to make an epic entrance at some point in their lives, regardless of who they are or what they do. Even mundane people like bakers need that one moment of glory, though beheading a fresh loaf at the end of it isn't all that satisfying. Naturally, a seasoned adventurer like Az had made many an epic entrance already, but that wasn't going to stop him from doing so again. And this time, he'd make sure it didn't get in the way...

The doors ripped jaggedly from their hinges, and crashed to the floor in a storm of dust. Four figures (or, arguably, five) were silhouetted against the evening sun behind them. The committee around the table simultaneously leaped to their feet in typical miscellaenous-committee-fashion and squinted to see who the newcomers were.

There was a cough from within the cloud, and a young woman staggered out. She turned back to the tumult and shouted between wheezes.

"Funck, what was the point in that? v_v"
"Adventurer artist woman
are you
serious?
v_v"

A chin crept out of the dust and looked around cautiously. Its owner followed hurriedly, and glanced around at the suited throng. One of the crowd raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, it's Az."
"I think you'll find that it's Swaggersaurus to you, v8r!"
"Whatever."

Evan looked on in amazement. He hadn't been expecting this. Well, he had -- he'd read all of the books on villainy, and knew that he had to expect not expecting various 'goodies' bursting in on all of the fun. Still, the badge trembled slightly in his hand. A young man, who seemed to have appeared from nowhere, gentle prised it from his grasp and examined it closely. He sipped his tea.

Eventually, Az's searching eyes found Evan, who automatically stood to attention. He snatched back the badge from the mysterious man, who murmured a protest that included 'Forsooth', whatever that means.

"You can't stop it now, Az. You're too late! All of these people support me, um, makiri; this badge-giving will change Smogon forever, and you're powerless to intervene!"

That would count as a villain speech, right? The books said you needed one. He'd managed to get 'You're too late!' in there, at least.

Unfortunately the tense atmosphere was interrupted by MK, who had decided to capitalise on his newfound Inside Scoop access.

"Hey, I know you!"
"Who, me?"
"Yeah! You're that guy who got us out of that jail. What was the name again?"

The man waved his hands desperately.

"Oh no, I'm sure you're mistaken. That was my twin. Yep."
"Stop being a bender. You're MoP, right?"

The assembled persons turned as one. They tingled with whispers -- a romantic image, yes, but entirely spoiled by the slurping of tea in one corner of the room.

"Hey, I know that name."
"Hookline Ansinker is MoP?"
"He's a troll right?"
"Didn't he start this entire thing?"
"Let's get him!"

Evan, by this point, was furiously flipping through 'Villains do the Funniest Things' in an attempt to save the entire plan, but gave up and joined... Well, it had suddenly become a mob.

MoP looked slightly annoyed, but laughed calmly. He reached into his pocket and drew out a badge of his own, it glinting in the flickering lights of the room.

"Wouldn't it be a shame, friends, if I were to put this badge on?"
"What the funck? It can't be. v_v"
"Oh yes, Chinman. This is a Tutor Alumnus badge, and I'm not afraid to wear it!"

This will conclude tomorrow!
 
In Alchematorland one day is actually equal to two.

The Tutor Alumnus badge was perhaps one of the rarest obtainable at Smogonne, with long and dedicated work being needed to receive it. How had MoP gotten his hands on one? He'd been denied it so many times in the past. Now he twirled it nonchalantly between his fingers.

"Every good villain has a back-up plan, of course. In fact, this artist farce wasn't the main ploy anyway -- it was just a funny thing to watch."

There was a furious scribble from the middle of the crowd: Evan was hurriedly taking notes. Alchemator lightly tapped Az on the shoulder.

"Forsooth, there is little action of consequence which could be initiated."
"You mean there's nothing we can do?"
"Yeah. Err. Forsooth, the seconds slip by imminently."
"Verbose Elgyem-obsessed childmanthing
there is always
something to do
v_v"
"I have an idea."

Before we go any further, I should probably point out that things have been frozen in place while this exchange occurs. All it takes is for one of the heroes to say "We don't have much time!" -- however verbose the variation -- and they have unlimited time.

Anyway, it was MK who had spoken up.

"You know how we were actually supposed to be finding that visionary leader guy, rather than confronting the issue ourselves? Well, I guess we need to find him."

The other three were unanimous: "But how?"

"Well, you're mods, right? You can do that announcement thing."
"Forsooth, I possess ontowithin my person such necessary components."
"You have the shit? Awesome."

It took an hour for Alchemator to construct the contraption necessary, but since time had stopped it was fine. The resulting machine seemed to be some kind of megaphone with wings.

"How do we use it then? I'll funck Nastyjungle if it works, but whatever. v_v"

She carefully checked over the blueprints again.

"Forsooth, it requires momentous contra-force leverage from a significant altitude."

So they threw it out of the window.

A solemn tear fell from Nastyjungle's eye as the machine flew for a little while, and then remembered gravity. It smashed to pieces on the ground below.

"Forsooth, our fortunes have altered malwise."
"'We're fucked.'"
"I say, what a terrible mess!"
"Who are you?"
"Hm, I suppose I'm not very recognisable after all these years. I'm Jason."
"Who?"
"Articuno64."
"Oh."

They stood there in silence for a while. Then time caught up. The badge resumed its twirling in MoP's hand, and the light began to flicker once more. MoP himself, however, was shocked to see a sudden new guest.

"Jason? What?"
"Oh, hey MoP. Still causing trouble I see."
"Uh. Nope. Definitely not."

The plucky adventurers finally caught on.

"Forsooth, this is the visionary leader for whom we have been searching!"
"This is the guy!"
"You mean the thing worked?"

Nastyjungle's eyes glazed over, unfocussing. Clearly she was daydreaming her way to somewhere... interesting.

"What thing? I just heard a loud noise and came to see what the hubbub was about."
"Oh. v_v"
"Anyway, what are you doing with that Tutor Alumnus badge, MoP? I'm pretty sure we decided not to give you it. Actually, it'll be in here somewhere..."

A filing cabinet suddenly appeared in front of the man, complete with a little inscription, which read as "Outstanding Policy Decisions". While the filing cabinet itself was of a standard size, it was clear from the way that it was very deep, and very full -- the man's arms disappeared entirely into its political depths.

"You know, I think Smogonne lacks direction. It needs someone to make decisions, so decisions don't hit bottlenecks and such. I remember a time..."

As the man immersed himself in his anecdote and his searching, MoP grinned. He wasn't actually being stopped. He could put the badge on. He just had to pin it in...

"Oh, for funck's sake. v_v"

Az swung his mighty jaw, err, mightily, and hefted its considerably girth in MoP's own chin. A handful of sparks flew, which may in fact have been MoP's teeth, and he was lifted from the ground. The boards creaked as he crashed onto the floor.

As for the badge, it flew up into the air, flickering and glinting in time with the light. MoP was back on his feet surprisingly quickly.

"No! The badge!"

Articuno64 stepped back from the filing cabinet, proudly producing a scroll tied with a golden ribbon.

"Here it is! Now, as I was saying..."

The badge completed its arc, and neatly dropped into the open filing cabinet. MoP whimpered and clasped his hands to his head. Then he dived after it, falling into the untold depths of the Outstanding Policy Decisions vault.

Articuno64, unaware of everything which had just happened, closed the filing cabinet. It vanished.

"Ah yes, here it is, MoP. Oh, where'd he go?"

The assembly stared at him, their jaws almost reaching the floor. In Az's case, it did. Quite easily.

"Oh well. I'm sure he'll turn up again at some point. I guess I'll go back to sorting out the Essy Mess."

And with that, perhaps aptly prophetic, statement, the man ambled out of the room.


Short epilogue imminent!

The grass swayed in the breeze as two figures appeared on the horizon. They were walking slowly, and were determined not to look at each other. Still, they risked a glance occasionally, just to make sure the other was still there. Their glances met occasionally, at which points their heads snapped back to the grass beneath them, and the air became a little awkward.

At the peak of the field they stopped, and looked up at the sun. Eventually one of them spoke up.

"So, uh, Nastyjungle. Well. Let me get this straight. You see..."

He produced a Poppy from somewhere, and held it out to Nastyjungle, who inspected it critically before taking it.

"Lately I've... Well. You know when you sort of..."
"Seriously Az what the funck. Can you not speak English. v_v"
"Well it's just..."
"Why do you always have to be around anyway? You just make things, like, really awkward."
"But..."
"I've only ever wanted to be with your jaw, but apparently you come with it too? Why would I want that? v_v"
"Love of my life woman
are you
serious
;_;"

Nastyjungle cast the Poppy to the ground and walked off. Az picked up the flower forlornly, and gazed after her. She got into a car and drove off into the sunset.

Well, she crashed into a tree first, but we'll just leave that out.
***

It was quiet in the Smeargle Studio. The fire crackled in the hearth dutifully, and Alchemator reclined in his usual chair. Not his chair, of course. No-one could sit in that. A man shuffled in. He'd come from the kitchen, or at least what was supposed to be a kitchen. Usually, though, it was piled high with tea-stained mugs.

"Forsooth, who are you?"
"What? I'm MK! You know, me, MK?"

Alchemator shrugged and accepted a cup from the man, who sat opposite and added a few more logs to the fire. They both took a sip from the mugs. Alchemator sat up, alarmed.

"Forsooth, what is this?"
"It's soup. In a cup."
"I... I like it."

***

MoP opened his eyes and coughed. A few sheets of paper slipped of his face, and he took a deep breath of the musty air. Dead paper is a scary thing: it will do anything to be read.

Remembering his task, he plunged his arm furiously into the heap on which he was lying, yearning for the cold feel of metal on his fingers, or the prick of the pin against his finger. He found nothing but rotting paper, which clung to his hand and tried to drag him down. MoP pulled his hand away quickly, massaging some life back into it.

He looked up. There was a little crack in the darkness high above, which he assumed was the opening of the filing cabinet. If he just found the badge he could be out of here...

Looking around, however, it seemed there were huge mounds of paper everywhere. The idiom of finding a needle in a haystack could be thought to be appropriate here, but the task of finding a grey badge in Inside Scoop's detritus was altogether more daunting.

MoP listened for a while, mulling over his task. A few crests away a globulous hand -- a description more onomatopoeiac than accurate -- burst out of the paper, followed by a rotund figure rolling after it. MoP smiled.

"Ah. Rodan..."

THE END
To be continued? Perhaps...

Everything is now in the OP.

This was fun.
 
eh hey! fantastic read but might wanna fix up

Before we go any further, I should probably point out that things have been frozen in place while this exchange occurs. All it takes is for one of the heroes to say "We don't have much time!" -- however verbose the variation -- and they have unlimited time.

i like my appearance, very subtle :)
 
Yeah I'm going to go through the OP now and fix things like that; there are a fair few typos.

E: It's proofed!
 
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