Warning: spoilers for the Carnage Saga.
Note: read “For Sweater Or Worse” first.
I wake up in my hotel room, clad in nothing but boxers and my itchy sweater, checking the alarm clock to see that it’s 5 AM.
Since my new, ahem, roommate moved in, I’ve started wearing underwear to bed, so she doesn’t have to see my junk every morning.
Electra’s probably still asleep in the saferoom. She’s used to living on the streets, and like many abusers, I know that street fluffies have more flexible schedules than house fluffies.
House fluffies tend to live on a schedule, but street fluffies eat and sleep whenever they can, because they can never be sure when they’ll get another chance, or if.
And Electra hasn’t been a house fluffy for very long, so her circadian rhythm is still adapting. At least, that’s what I’ve read.
So I dunno when she’ll wake up.
I get out of bed, scratching myself, feeling troubled.
scratch scratch
I had the same dream again last night.
Running through the streets of San Francisco, blasting slimy red fluffies with Aqua’s Barbie Girl.
I’ve been having that dream a lot since my little field trip last week.
Because it’s not just a dream.
Yeah, it’s me again. Ugly Sweater Guy. Hi. How ya doin’?
It’s been a week or so since I adopted Electra, and she’s settling in nicely at the hotel. Everyone seems to like her, she’s been getting tons of compliments, and I can tell it’s doing wonders for her self-esteem.
And we’ve already been offered to bring her to Fluffywood for an audition.
She told me that she’s considering accepting that offer, once we part ways.
But then, a couple of days after I adopted Electra, Chaos showed up one evening, asking me if I wanted to go on a field trip.
From the tone of his cheerful, flamboyant voice, I could tell that I was going on that field trip, no matter what my answer was.
So I reluctantly said yes, and he handed me some kinda weapon that looked like the bastard offspring of a megaphone and a laser rifle.
He called it a sonic cannon, and he had painted it in rainbow colors.
Obviously, I wasn’t allowed to keep it.
Suddenly, the two of us were in an alleyway in Chinatown, San Francisco.
And shit had gotten real.
Now, I was only vaguely aware of the Klyntar before that night. There aren’t any of those things in Detroit, all I really knew was that there’s a couple of 'em in the ChaotiX, and that they’re alien slimeballs which latch onto people.
Like my sweater, but not as itchy.
Sometimes I feel like the sweater is fusing with my skin, but nope, it’s just itchiness.
I hope this thing isn’t secretly a Klyntar. They can mimic clothing, it’s a possibility!
scratch scratch
Anyway, as Chaos explained, a whole bunch of fluffies had been infected by a red Klyntar, and they were tearing shit up in Frisco.
The ChaotiX were there, the police were there, the military showed up at some point too…
You can probably guess what the purpose of my field trip was.
To help all of the do-gooders save those fluffies, by blasting the evil red goop off them with pop songs.
Apparently, Chaos once did something like that with someone he called Goldilocks, during something called the World Revolution.
I didn’t know what he was going on about, but he said he’ll tell me some other time.
I’m not gonna lie, it was actually kinda fun. Really helped me vent my frustration over my whole situation, and it gave me an outlet for my urge to abuse.
Of course, I had plenty of things reminding me why I was doing it, and keeping that urge in check.
scratch scratch
Such as Chaos temporarily turning the sweater gold and silver, as a visual representation of the double points bonus I enjoyed until sunrise.
It’s not a coincidence that he made the sweater the same colors as Electra, I think.
He was also generous enough to make it so the sweater wouldn’t itch as long as I was in San Francisco, so I wouldn’t be distracted.
Of course, he warned me that it would become a million times itchier if I tried to run.
scratch scratch
So I had a lot of incentive to do my best that night.
And I earned a fuckload of points by sunrise. More than I usually earn in one day, at any rate.
Y’know, I always wanted to go to Frisco too, I just wasn’t expecting to go under those circumstances.
Once all of the little bastards were driven to Oracle Park, I followed them, and… I’m not really sure what happened, but when I got there, there was one big red slimy fluffy, a lot of regular fluffies fleeing the stadium, which was surrounded by some kind of pillar of light, and there were also a ton of ChaotiX, cops, and soldiers surrounding the place.
I had a hunch that Chaos wanted me to get in there, and my hunch was correct: he lead me into the stadium through the sewers, and by the time I got in through a hole in the locker room floor…
The battle was already over. That big red fluffy was burned to cinders, and you can also probably guess who did it.
Point is, I waded through the shit of San Francisco for nothing.
And even worse?
It was a setup.
Chaos didn’t want me to fight the big monster fluffy at all.
He just wanted an excuse to introduce me to someone I’ve been avoiding.
Of course, fucking Korkea was there with some of his ChaotiX friends. Such as Marley, Victor, some guy with white hair and a black and white battle suit that was torn up, don’t know why, and a woman in a red and blue battle suit that really flattered her amazing ass, but she’s apparently dating the white-haired guy.
There was a fluffy that looked like the ones covered in that red slime, but this one was covered in black slime.
There was even an Arachnoid, talking to someone covered in black and blue slime.
Presumably, the ChaotiX’s Klyntar members.
Then I realized that Korkea was looking directly at me.
And he was smirking.
“Hello, Ugly Sweater Guy. So this is what I’ve gotta do to have a conversation with you?”
I can’t lie: I soiled myself a little right then and there. But my pants were already soaked in shit, so I don’t think he knew.
It’s a fact in the abuser community: if you run into Korkea, and he’s smirking at you, it means that your day is about to be ruined in a spectacular fashion.
Naturally, I was terrified.
I was frozen to the spot for a few minutes, before I made a break for it, tossing the rainbow cannon aside.
“NONONONONO–”
However, Korkea wouldn’t let me leave.
thwip
“Didn’t wanna do it like this, dude, but I’m getting sick of you running away from me. Look, I’m not gonna hurt you, I just want to talk.”
I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I wanted to go back to my hotel room, get out of my filthy clothes, and take the world’s longest shower.
But then Chaos showed up again, making it clear that I wasn’t going anywhere until I finally sat down and had a chat with Korkea.
So I did, with extreme reluctance. I told him my side of the night’s events, and he told me his side.
Being Calvin “human cloud of weed smoke” Korkea, he lit up a joint, and some of the smoke got in my face.
I don’t really smoke weed, but if I did, I’d have another reason to want to join the ChaotiX, because Korkea smokes some strong fucking shit.
It might have just been the second-hand high, but by the time Chaos brought me home, I felt like Korkea wasn’t so hard to talk to after all.
I mean, everyone in Korkeaopolis says that he’s a good, friendly, caring man, but from the perspective of a guy like me, he’s the unstoppable son of a bitch who has been ruthlessly hunting down people like me across the globe.
He actually gets that. He said he knows why I’m scare… why I didn’t want to talk to him.
scratch scratch
He was clearly making an effort to put me at ease. He gave me a vial of something he called Liquid Insomnia. It’s espresso made with Victor’s coffee, and I was warned not to use it unless I need the boost.
I’ve been keeping it hidden inside a balled-up pair of socks in my drawer.
I don’t know what Korkea thinks I could need it for, but I hope I never find out.
He said that it would keep me awake for a decade, and I’m not sure he was exaggerating!
And you’re not going to believe this, but Korkea even offered me a job.
Not as a ChaotiX member, even he seems to think the idea is ludicrous, but as a…
Well, he used the word consultant. I used to be an abuser, I know how they think, and Korkea wanted to make use of that.
I said no.
He offered a lot of perks, but…
Uh, well, I know I’ve been making an effort to clean up my act, and get out of this game and out of this city.
scratch scratch
But I’m not gonna turn around and become another of Korkea’s flunkies!
I’ve got at least one “friend” back home who would literally murder me if he heard about me snitching to the ChaotiX.
Sure, protection from that is one of the perks Korkea offered.
And Chaos is protecting me, to an extent.
But there’s someone back home who I really don’t want to run into again.
He won’t care that Chaos and Korkea are keeping tabs on me, even if he believes me.
He’s a complete and utter psychopath.
And I’ve never been entirely certain that he only kills fluffies for fun.
After quietly checking that Electra is still asleep, I go about my morning routine.
One shower later, I get dressed, the sweater forcing itself back on me the moment SFT ends.
I’ve got until she wakes up, and we head downstairs to get some breakfast, so I kill time reading one of the books I bought at Flufftopia.
I’ve already worked my way through a few of them, and I’ve never been the most avid reader, but as I’ve said before, I don’t have much to do when I’m itchy at 2 AM.
At about 7 AM, I see my phone ring on vibrate, on the coffee table.
bzzzzzz
I don’t recognise the number, so I don’t answer.
bzzzzzz
But it rings again.
Ugh, it’s probably Chaos calling me.
scratch scratch
He does this, because if I know he’s calling me, he knows I won’t answer until my phone spontaneously presses itself up against my face.
Fine, let’s get this over with.
I answer the phone, speaking up in an annoyed tone.
“What?”
Then I hear an unpleasantly familiar voice reply.
And it’s not the cheerful, flamboyant voice I was expecting.
“That’s no way to talk to your best buddy, you know. Heya, pal! It’s been a while! I was starting to think you were dead!”
Oh no.
Not him.
Fuuuuuuuuuuck, why didn’t I change my phone number?
I thought blocking him was enough!
I stay silent, but he isn’t fooled.
“I know you’re there, best buddy. Sitting in your fancy room at Faucheuse Hotel, with your expensive little roommate! So, what made you decide to move to fucking Korkeaopolis and go all hugbox on me, buddy?”
I respond in a weak tone, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry.
“What… what do you want?”
“Ah-ah-ah. Not now. I’d like to catch up in private, and I’m not sure that no one’s listening in on this call. I’m currently staying in a charming little motel, and you wouldn’t believe it, but the guy behind the counter says that you spent a night here a while ago! I know where you are. Do you know where I am?”
That town. The one near… Blueberry’s Forest. The one I rested at when I tried to run home.
I haven’t spent enough points to go there yet.
It took me all day to run there, and I woke up in an alleyway in Korkeaopolis with my face in a fluffy turd the next morning, but I can probably drive there and back by the end of the day.
“Yeah. I know.”
“Then meet me there as soon as you can. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going, or who you’re meeting. If you aren’t here by tomorrow morning… you’ll see what happens.”
click
He hangs up, and I groan, my head in my hands.
“Can’t I just have another round with those monster fluffies?”
Later, after dropping Electra off at Happy Fluffy Daycare, I drive out to that town, parking outside the motel.
And as I get out of my Aztek, I see my old “friend” leaning against his suspiciously clean brown Tribeca, grinning at me.
I always thought that he looks like a shark, and most people in Detroit agree, which is why everyone in town just called him…
“Jaws. What’s this about?”
Not a very creative nickname, I know, but look at what people call me.
He jerks a thumb at the motel.
“Inside.”
So he leads me up to the room he’s rented, which turns out to be the same room I rented.
Apparently, some gurus once stayed here too. And some Dutch sailors. I don’t know what they were doing in America.
Once we sit down on filthy chairs, at a filthier table, Jaws gestures at the minifridge.
“Can I offer you a drink, buddy?”
“…That fridge isn’t even plugged in.”
“Okay, so no drink.”
I hate it when he’s all fake-polite like this.
“Cut the bullshit, Jaws, and just get to the point. What’s this about?”
He keeps grinning at me.
“What this is about, buddy, is you. I’m worried about you, y’know. You moved to Korkeaopolis all of a sudden, you went hugbox, and I think you’re walking a dangerous road.”
“Look, there are a lot of parts of this story that you probably wouldn’t believe, and I’m not doing any of this willingly. How do you even know about this, anyway? How did you track me down?”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket, showing me a YouTube video of me giving toys to a family of fluffies behind an Italian restaurant, and threatening to force-feed the internet celebrity wannabe who was filming me her own iPhone.
Ah, I remember that.
Goddamnit, YouTube is gonna be the death of me.
Jaws snickers as he puts his phone away.
“You’ve become a bit of an internet sensation, buddy! There’s videos on YouTube of you giving toys to shitrats, and walking into that hugboxing cyborg frog’s hotel with your shitrat like a couple of movie stars. Where’d you find it?”
I narrow my eyes in response to his choice of words.
“I think you mean, where’d I find her?”
He laughs like I just told the funniest joke in the world.
“See, look how hugboxy you’ve become! But you know that I can’t just let you walk away from me and pretend that all the good times never happened. And I can’t have you telling fucking Korkea stories about all the fun we had together, either. So I’m here to make sure that you don’t squeal.”
Oh crap.
He’s going to murder me.
Goddamnit, why didn’t I bring a weapon?
Why didn’t I accept Korkea’s offer? If I had, I could have brought an escort!
Or Jaws wouldn’t even have this opportunity–
Wait.
Chaos won’t let Jaws kill me. Chaos won’t let me die here, because I can’t play the game if I’m dead.
Right?
Jaws leans in, still grinning.
“Do they know?”
“Wh-what?”
“Do people in Korkeaopolis know? Do they know about your old life?”
Well, the ChaotiX knows, at any rate.
“…”
scratch scratch
Jaws laughs again, like a chess grandmaster who just watched his opponent make an innocuous, yet fatal mistake.
“They don’t know, do they? They think that you’re just an average guy in an ugly sweater who strolled into town and started giving away toys to shitrats like fuckin’ Santa. Why are you even wearing that sweater? You were never a sweater kind of guy!”
“That’s one of the parts of the story you wouldn’t believe.”
scratch scratch
“Oh well. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you wouldn’t be very popular anymore if people knew the truth, would you? If they knew how many shitrats you’ve broken, they wouldn’t let you anywhere near shitrats. They might even run you out of town. Of course, they don’t have to know the truth, as long as you don’t say a motherfucking word to motherfucking Korkea and his motherfucking hugboxing freakshow about me.”
“So… that’s the deal, Jaws? I don’t snitch on you, you don’t snitch on me?”
“Not just that. I want you to come back to Detroit with me. Today. So I can be certain that you won’t say too much to fucking Korkea. And so I can bring you back to your senses. Come on. I know you miss the good times.”
Not as much as I did when I started playing this game.
“As much as I want to get away from Korkeaopolis, I can’t do that.”
Jaws leans back in his chair, folding his arms and putting his feet on the table.
“Really? Is it because you’ve already turned snitch, buddy? I mean, you made it here just fine.”
“Again, you won’t believe me, but there’s forces keeping me from straying too far from that damn city. If leave with you, I’ll wake up back in my hotel room tomorrow morning. And hot chocolate may be involved.”
scratch scratch
“Forces like the fucking ChaotiX? They’ve got a few wizards, don’t they?”
“…Something like that.”
scratch scratch
Jaws sighs, in a manner of feigned remorse. He doesn’t have a remorseful bone in his body, trust me.
“Well, this complicates things. I drove all this way just to see you, and I can’t leave without knowing that you won’t be getting too chummy with fucking Korkea and his freak friends. I need some kind of insurance. So, if I’m not leaving this shithole of a town with my best buddy, then I’m leaving with compensation. You can get my silence for free by coming with me… or you can buy my silence, but it’s going to cost you big time.”
My mouth starts getting dry again.
“How… how much?”
“Fifty K. Per month.”
“FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS PER MONTH?!? How am I supposed to get that kind of money?!? I work at Starbucks now, if I ask for that kind of raise, they’ll mega-fire me!”
He grins even harder, like a shark cornering a goldfish, and drops the bomb on me.
“You’ve got that fancy gold and silver shitrat. So you’ve got everything you need. Eh, almost everything. Just find a stallion with decent colors, pillow the bitch, let them do what shitrats do best, your shitrat shits out some expensive babies, and then you sell 'em. You’ll make at least a couple thousand per baby, and Korkeaopolis is teeming with idiots who will pay that much. Rinse and repeat a few times, and you’ll have enough by the end of the month. Problem solved!”
He…
He can’t be serious.
I can’t do that to Electra!
I made a deal with her!
Even if I go back on the deal…
I’ll be served a big steaming mug of consequences!
With whipped cream and marshmallows!
I’ll lose so many points!
Chaos might not even wait for me to lose the game before hot chocolate time commences!
Oh God, I’m screwed. Doesn’t matter what I choose, I’m screwed.
If go along with this, I’ll lose points for every litter Electra gives birth to, and I’ll lose the game before long. So I’ll be buying Jaws’ silence for nothing.
If I don’t, Jaws will expose me to the people of Korkeaopolis, I’ll become a pariah, and people will never trust me around fluffies again, so I’ll probably lose the game anyway.
But… Chaos won’t let that happen, will he?
He knows I’m here, doesn’t he?
If he didn’t want me to come here and meet up with Jaws, he could have prevented me from doing so with ease.
So…
Why isn’t Chaos stopping this?
scratch scratch
Does he… does he want to see how I’m going to handle this?
Jaws puts his feet down, gets up, and grabs two suitcases from the bed.
“I’ll give you one week to mull it over, buddy. If I don’t have an answer from you by then, I’ll assume that you aren’t going to pay up, and you know what happens next. See you later, I hope.”
“Where-- where are you going?”
He laughs one more time.
“You don’t actually believe I’m going to stay here now that you know I’m here, do you? Don’t want you accidentally telling anyone.”
He puts one of the suitcases down for a moment, pulls a scrap of paper out of his pocket, and slides it across the table to me.
It’s got a phone number written on it.
“Call me when you’ve made your choice, buddy. I had to get a new number just for you. I didn’t think you’d pick up if you recognized the number. Oh, and if you tell anyone about this lovely little chat we had, you’re going down with me. Remember all those home movies we made together, of all the fun we had with shitrats? I’ve got backups. You wouldn’t want me to upload those to YouTube, would you?”
I pocket the paper.
“N… no.”
“So you know what you’ve gotta do?”
No.
I don’t know what to do anymore.
“…”
He shrugs.
“Again, I hope I’ll hear from you again soon, but now it’s time for me to hit the road. I don’t like being so close to fucking Korkeaopolis, and I honestly don’t know how you can stand it. Ciao for now, best buddy!”
With that, Jaws leaves with his luggage, and I’m all alone in the room.
After a few seconds, I get up and follow Jaws out, but as I walk through the door, I see him already driving away, out of this picturesque town.
I stumble down the stairs, over to my car, fumbling with my keys and absent-mindedly staring at a rainbow VW bus arriving at the KFC across the street.
Then I vomit on the driver side door, out of stress.
I lean against my car for support, every part of me at war, my head spinning, getting vomit on my sweater, hyperventilating, tears streaming down my face as the panic attack takes over.
“Chaos… I don’t know what to do… I’m all alone here… please… help me…”
But… but he’s not coming.
He’s not going to help me get out of this mess.
I’m… I’m on my own.
I’m all I’ve got.
As I sink to the ground, sitting with my back to my car, feeling completely lost, I hear footsteps getting closer.
“Hey, man, are you alright?”
And hoofsteps.
“Daddeh, am dat…”
“Not now, Woodstock.”
I slowly lift my head up, seeing a hippie and a rainbow-colored alicorn stallion.
The hippie’s holding a bucket of fried chicken with one arm. He’s wearing a Yin-Yang pendant, and a badge on his sleeveless denim vest.
An X in an octagon.
I groan, remembering what Jaws said.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t really talk about it.”
Then I get up, wiping my face with my sleeve. Great, the tears are gone, but now I have puke on my face.
“I need to drive back to the city, pick my fluffy up from daycare, take another shower, and I’ve gotta take this thing through the car wash.”
“There’s a car wash here, man. I take the Mothership there all the time, they’ll treat your ride right.”
“The… Mothership?”
The hippie points at the garish van in the KFC’s parking lot.
“The Mothership, man. I was born and raised in there. I conceived my daughter in there. The Mothership is my soul.”
“Dat fing am a pawt of daddeh wike daddeh awmies an weggies.”
“And I’m the only person who knows all of the little tricks to make it go. We won’t keep you, man, but if you’re ever in the neighborhood again and you want to talk, feel free to swing by my cabin. The name’s Tommy, and this is Woodstock.”
“Hewwo.”
I kneel down, stroking Woodstock to soothe my itching.
“You’re not actually Chaos, are you? I know he likes rainbows.”
“Nu. But Woodstock haf met Kay-ohs.”
Tommy laughs.
“Yeah, they first met at the end of the World Revolution. That’s when Chaos got the idea to adopt Loki and Eris, man. So, uh, like I said, if you ever want to talk, my cabin’s in the forest, near Pierre’s cabin and the Brownie Palace.”
The what?
“If yu see a big wockie wif a fowce fiewd awound it, knu dat dewe am a wee-sun da fowce fiewd am dewe.”
“A fence wasn’t enough to keep people out, man.”
…
Okay, I’ll ask what that’s about some other time.
I open the dirty car door, getting inside.
“I’ll… I’ll keep it in mind, thanks. So where’s that car wash?”
“Just around the corner, man. And hey, before you go…”
“What?”
Tommy smiles at me.
“Whatever you’re dealing with, you can overcome it. You’re stronger than you think, and you’re not alone. You’ve got a fluffy at home, don’t you?”
“…Yeah, I do.”
The hippie nods, and walks away with his fluffy without another word.
Does he know? Does he know why I came here, and who just drove away?
That hippie’s in the ChaotiX too, judging by the badge. So he probably knows my story, same as Dwayne, or Kyle, or Erwin, or Korkea.
I can’t imagine what this guy’s powers are, I’ve never seen him fighting in the news footage I’ve seen. He doesn’t even look like a fighter. What would he do to a supervillain, offer them a doobie?
Is he playing dumb like the others were?
If Korkea knows about Jaws, why isn’t he doing something about this?
Did Chaos ask Korkea and his pals to back off? Does Chaos genuinely want to see how I handle this on my own?
Honestly, what happened in San Francisco was downright straightforward compared to this.
As I drive out of town, back to Korkeaopolis, I sigh.
“Goddamnit, Jaws. Why you gotta be this way, man?”