Fearful Symmetry

The announcement came on the radio just as Moptop and Ellynnorr were pulling out of the driveway: "Warning . . . a giant tiger is loose in the city! Do not leave your homes for any reason!"

"Eh, let's go," said Moptop. "There is food to be eaten and beer to be drunk!"

As they drove out of the neighborhood, another car, driven by Notop, passed by the opposite direction. The passengers included Mrs. Notop, Terred, and Mr. God. The former tried to get Moptop's attention, but Moptop slinked down farther into his seat in an ineffective attempt to conceal himself. Notop's car whipped around and followed them.

Notop changed lanes and sped up so the cars were side-by-side, and Moptop saw Mr. God's window roll down, so he responded in kind.

"What do you want!?" shouted Moptop over the rushing wind.

"Mr. and Mrs. Notop want you to come to dinner!"

"I'm clearly going somewhere else! Maybe next time!"

Mr. God's window rolled up, and Mrs. Notop cast an indignant glare at Moptop.

The cars came to rest at a stoplight, and Moptop saw the giant tiger in the intersection. It was giant, indeed--easily longer than their car--and appeared very angry. Moptop looked around at everyone's reaction. A woman on a bicycle, suddenly aware of her mortal danger, screamed and pedaled away slowly in the opposite direction.

The tiger, meanwhile, took a swipe at a man walking a chihuahua and barely missed the dog. Moptop was secretly disappointed.

Holiday Squabble

"Listen to us fighting," sighed Cajun Mother. "One of us should take a 'Stillige Nacht' break."

Face Full of Sorrow

After sitting down to read the book loaned to him by Herschel, Moptop was almost immediately interrupted and informed it was time for rehearsal.

Moptop was handed a guitar, and he improvised since he hadn't heard the song before. El Canucko and the Creepster looked at him disapprovingly. "Can you play it . . . I don't know . . . a little more subtly?" Moptop tried to oblige, but his efforts were apparently unsatisfactory. The group packed up their instruments and went their separate ways.

At this, Moptop leaped head-first into the slide in the wall and sped down the tube at breakneck speed, slowing down only in some corners to collect some objects that he spotted in small niches.

When he emerged, he found himself in a cabin, where people were milling about and talking. One person was huddled under a blanket, though it would have been nearly impossible to sleep through so much activity.

"Who is that?" Moptop asked someone.

"Oh, that's such-and-such's wife," the person responded. Moptop immediately forgot the name.

Spotting Baldo out of the corner of his eye, Moptop approached and asked what the rest of the group thought.

"Nobody thinks it's going to go well," said Baldo, grimly.

"It will be fine," replied Moptop. "And look what I found!"

Moptop pulled out several large, golden dollar coins from a bag. Upon closer inspection, the most ornate one was inscribed in an unorthodox fashion:

"We the People Declare You a Jerk."

CSI

Moptop entered the garage, cautiously approaching the semi truck until he could climb into the cab for a better view. As he pulled himself up, he recoiled in horror as he saw a corpse in the passenger's seat.

Montano used this knowledge to travel back in time several hours, and he, too, crept into the garage. Once he was close enough, he flung open the door, finding Judas asleep next to the body.

"It was you!" exclaimed Montano.

"You can't stop me," yawned the still-sleepy Judas.

Montano kicked him.

Hungry

The moon came down from the sky to observe Moptop delicately arranging his food. Careful not to mix anything together to preserve each flavor, he lightly placed the chips, hot dogs, pickles, and other items on the plate. When it was finished, he smiled and made his way to the table.

A mustachioed man entered, and Moptop dropped the plate of food. Moptop punched the man in the face.

"I demand two hot dogs!" he yelled to no one in particular.

Celebrity Cruise

As the flying ship floated lazily over the exotic lands, Moptop stared at a lighthouse atop an enormous cliff and couldn't shake the feeling that he'd once, perhaps in a former life, pushed Notop off the structure. The feeling intensified as they passed over a grid-like river. Hadn't he once gone swimming here?

Jweedy, acting as the tour guide, gestured to the snowcapped mountains and thick jungles below. "They call this the heaven valley, probably because it's so nice. A less likely, and possibly better, explanation is that this place is, in fact, a preview of what heaven will actually be like! From the lush forests to the white mountains . . . I've actually written a little song about it."

"Oh no," said Cajun Mother, rolling her eyes.

Wobin Rilliams zipped himself into a large banana peel and floated to the ceiling.

Solutions

"We don't have enough people!" cried Gloria. "We'll never be able to keep this salvaged alien machinery running!"

Moptop gazed out of the window overlooking the bustling downtown, then spun around, pounding his fist on the table.

"Bring me the hobos!" he shouted. "We shall put them to work!"

The Martyr

"I can tell that you are just lazy!" the woman sneered at Moptop. "You probably just sit here and do this all day! Worthless!"

Moptop felt that these accusations were overly harsh, considering he had, out of boredom while waiting in line, decided to try out the game set up in the middle of the grocery store.

The woman grabbed a baby and began chanting the most aggressive lullaby Moptop had ever heard.

"ROCK-A-BYE, SIGFRIED, ROCK-A-BYE!"

Corporate Tube

Moptop was in a great hurry to get out of the office complex. He had attempted to go out the back entrance, but he only got lost in the parking lot and was forced to return. Running through the winding halls lined with cubicles and abstract art, he stumbled up and down escalators until arriving at the tube.

The tube was just that--a long channel connecting the upper and lower floors of the building. The blue interior was soft and fleshy, but lined with small rungs that allowed the employees to climb up and down. Moptop was unaware of all these things, however, and attempted to slide in headfirst. He regrouped from the surprise of only traveling a few inches and began climbing up the rungs.

It was inexplicably difficult and tiring to pull himself up, and the lack of air inside the tube was suffocating. After about four feet of climbing, Moptop felt completely drained and attempted to turn around. Unfortunately, another employee was climbing up from behind, trapping Moptop. He fell, crashing to the tiled floor below.

Feeling his mouth, he discovered one of his front teeth was now missing.

"No!" he screamed. "Now I look like Stazzny!"

Pug Noir

The agent received the mission briefing through the machine in his case and blacked out the majority of the words before handing it to Moptop.

"Do you understand your instructions?" he asked, gruffly.

"I do," replied Moptop.

With this, Moptop pulled his gun from his coat and slipped into the house. He was on a "proofreading" assignment, which he assumed to be both a euphemism and, literally, the checking and correction of spelling and grammar on a document of some sort. The dog stared at him from the corner of the room as Moptop searched through a stack of papers on the counter. Moptop heard a sound and, without looking up, casually fired several shots into the wall. Insects scattered.

Dietrich arrived and informed Moptop that Hershel had written a string arrangement for the recording. Moptop nodded solemnly. A housekeeper emerged from one of the back rooms and Moptop fired more shots in her general direction, careful not to hit her but close enough to prove a point.

Glancing at the briefing again, Moptop noticed that he had read it wrong, or perhaps the letters had rearranged themselves. The mission was "dogsitting," not proofreading.

Lurve is a Battlefield

Endenash and Moptop raced to the top of the mountain. Moptop knew he couldn't afford to lose this race, for he was on the game show "Battle for Lurve." Pushing his body's effort to the absolute limit, he managed to reach the peak just before Endenash.

At the top of the mountain, there was a fancily-set table with two chairs. They took their seats and began to eat the hamburgers in front of them.

"Doesn't this strike you as a bit odd?" asked Moptop. Endenash did not respond, and Moptop felt betrayed. Various members of the Auto-yes hovered in the background for no apparent reason.

"The winner of the hamburger contest is Endenash!" the announcer declared.

Endenash pulled out a pack of cards from his coat and began to deal them.

"Oh. That's it. That does it," growled Moptop as he picked up his hand.

Phinal Phantasm IV

The party cautiously made their way across the boardwalk, wary of random encounters with monsters. The nearby sea was eerily still. On the horizon, Moptop could see the outline of a dark figure, and, upon the party's approach, he realized it was the Vicar, the boss of this level. As the man smiled menacingly, Moptop readied his chain. As they inched forward, Moptop noticed a tip jar at the Vicar's feet, alongside a sign that read "atonement."

"What is this?" queried Moptop. "Is this some sort of . . . penitence challenge?"

The Vicar suddenly became much more friendly, and fished out a couple coins from the tip jar. "Yes!" he replied cheerily, tossing the spare change to Moptop.

"Oh. Cool. Thanks."

Once they took another turn on the boardwalk, the Vicar appeared again.

"Another moral lesson?" asked Moptop.

"Yes!" the Vicar shouted. "Prepare to feel my wrath!" With this, the Vicar leaped at the party, cracking his whip and, oddly enough, throwing snakes.

Moptop screamed and charged at the villain, swinging his chain madly. His attack failed to reach its intended target, however, so Moptop decided it would be best to bypass this nonsense and keep running.

Along with the other surviving party members, Moptop reached the house and entered. Everyone was hit by a flashback of the professor who once lived here--the man who discovered the source of the extraplanar madness.

"Watch out for my uncle," Mearle whispered. "He might still be around."

Moptop had another flashback, which revealed that her uncle had died attempting to exit the house through a window. He thought it best to keep this information to himself.

The group entered the bedroom and Moptop closed the door to the adjacent bathroom to hide the copious amount of blood on the floor. Just then, the portal in the room opened, and the living shadows swarmed into the room--servants of the Great Old Ones.

"This really would make a good RPG," thought Moptop as he prepared for battle.

Black Friday

Moptop was always somewhat surprised that, aside from some minor layout changes, the interior of every Tagret store looks eerily similar. In this particular building, however, he had gotten lost in a hallway somewhere behind the clothing department. Figuring that it probably led to the restrooms or, at worst, an emergency exit, Moptop continued down the corridor until he arrived at a large, steel door.

Opening it, he was surprised that it revealed a small, stone chamber, unlit except for a single bulb dangling from the ceiling. Huddled in the middle of the room were three old, ugly women dressed in black robes. The walls and floor were scratched with bizarre symbols. The women glanced up at Moptop.

Without any acknowledgment, the trembling Moptop turned around quietly, closed the door behind him, and found the nearest employee.

"Are you aware of your . . . uh . . . problem back there?"

The Great Moron Tabernacle Caper, Part II

Ellynnorr and Moptop wandered into another room of the Mormon Convention, where there were hundreds of children and teachers engaged in some manner of meeting. One boy had been singled out and stood on stage, while a gym teacher was shouting to the assembly.

"This isn't just a school meeting--it's an inquisition!" whispered Ellynnorr.

"It's like the star chamber!" Moptop replied, nodding in agreement. The gym teacher, meanwhile, continued on his rant.

"Look, everyone! If we don't make an example out of this boy, how will he ever learn from what he's done? He needs to feel true regret!"

Another teacher, who looked rather effete in his pink suit and glasses, stood up and spoke. "I disagree! This discipline is pointless. When they're placed in these situations, children will cry, or pray, or do anything to get out of it, however insincere!"

The gym teacher apparently decided that the best way to resolve this disagreement was through violence and threw a desk at the pink-suited teacher. The entire room erupted in chaos.

"Eh, I've seen enough," said Moptop, and the pair walked away.

In the meantime, Baldo, never one to pass up a good skirmish, swung from a rope on the balcony into the frenzied mass of brawling teachers.

The Great Moron Tabernacle Caper, Part I

Unsure of how he had arrived in the house, Moptop nonetheless found himself beginning to watch a movie with Alaird and his friends. Moptop disliked most of them, so he simply sat quietly with his beer and stared intently at the television screen.

He glanced up as the screen door leading to the deck hissed open, and a thuggish teenager, flanked by several similar young men, entered and grabbed the cooler full of drinks near the television.

"Dude, what the hell!?" shouted one of Alaird's friends. The thieves did not respond and bolted down the deck into the yard.

Alaird and his friends followed, and a huge brawl erupted in the yard below. Moptop, mostly uninterested, wearily got up to survey the damage, and was horrified to see that Montano and Jack were caught right in the middle of it! Though they were holding their own, Moptop still wrung his hands to the heavens and swore that he would bring vengeance upon these thugs.

The next day, Ellynnorr and Moptop sneaked through the large hotel where the yearly Mormon Convention was taking place, watching the leader of the thieves as he flipped through a pamphlet.

"Okay, I've got a plan," whispered Moptop. "We can't take him on directly. This place is way too dangerous. But we can set him up!"

"Okay, how?" replied Ellynnorr.

"See those priceless Youngham Brig coins in that case? I'm going to pry them out with this screwdriver I snatched from the bellboy. Then we'll put them over by his foot. When the guards see that he's standing by them, they'll think HE did it!"

Ellynnorr shot him a skeptical look in response.

"No, it'll work!"

Thus, Moptop ducked behind the display tables and crawled, not daring to breathe, over to the display case. When all the latter-day saints had turned their backs or were otherwise occupied, he gently pried the coins out and rolled them across the carpet. At this moment, the absurdity of this plan hit Moptop, and waves of anxiety swept through his body. However, against all odds, they struck the foot of the thug, and he stooped down to examine them. Instantly, he was tackled by three policemen.

Moptop could barely contain his mirth.

Unconvincing

While walking on Nejot Avenue, Moptop was cornered by two rough-looking men. He felt that this would not end well.

"Give us all your money!" demanded the first man.

"Yeah!" chimed the second. "I'm a centaur!"

"You clearly are not a centaur," scoffed Moptop. "You're just a guy with a beard!"

For a moment, the man's eyes filled with doubt, but his resolve soon returned.

"Naw, man! I'm a centaur!"

Weeks later, Moptop and Montano were set to begin their original play in Moptop's backyard, which had been hastily converted to a theatre. Montano entered the stage, quickly followed by Moptop, who flew in dramatically in his vampire costume, laughing maniacally. From the deck, Jack politely clapped.

Far into the future, Dietrich, Ellynnorr, and Moptop lifted large pipes to construct their giant tank/fortress. None of them had suspected that being warlords in post-apocalyptic Africa would be such fun.

Seedy Underbelly

The crumbling, filthy house had been turned into makeshift brothel, and Moptop luckily escaped to one of the empty rooms. Unfortunately, the barely-standing walls were hardly soundproof, and he was also soon discovered by Dinagelle. She began to regale him with tales of a questionable nature and graphic descriptions of an act developed in the infamous "Petrol Promenade," a downtown nightclub she was known to frequent.

After nearly an hour of this one-sided interaction, Moptop, frustrated, shouted, "Do you just want to do it already!?"

"With you!? NO!" Dinagelle punctuated her repulsion with a slap across Moptop's face.

"Well, FINE!"

Moptop stormed out of the building, pulled a bottle of whiskey from his coat and angrily consumed it. He then got into a car and drove away. Within seconds, he was stopped by two police officers, who approached him smugly.

"Have you been . . . drinking tonight, son?"

"No, I'm going to church," growled Moptop.

Elsewhere, an Asian teenager was discovered to be the mastermind behind the ill-conceived brothel. Unfortunately, the detective who unearthed this did not live long enough to inform anyone else. . . .

Robot Requiem

Moptop looked at the shattered remains of his beloved Jigsaw-Puzzle-Bot, the light now extinguished from the robot's genial smile. Jigsaw-Puzzle-Bot's brave sacrifice had led to his untimely death at the hands of Sumo-Bot, who had propelled through the air and crushed him. Though J-P-B had performed a brilliant maneuver to avoid the blow, his light metal casing simply wasn't enough to withstand Sumo-Bot's massive weight. Only one thought now consumed Moptop's mind--vengeance would be his. He passed El Canucko and the others and left the stadium.

Under the starry sky, he was met by Ellynnorr, and the pair walked away into the night. Meanwhile, another robot descended from the sky, landing at the feet of J-P-B's remains. The celestial robot cried metallic tears.

A Fighter's Destiny

The commercial for the latest fighting video game was quite exciting. "Fashion your own fighter! Choose from a classic template or STRIKE out on your own." Images of colorful, flamboyant martial artists and wrestlers flashed across the screen. "Then prepare to FIGHT!"

Moptop was intrigued by this. Perhaps if he used one of these fighters, he could defeat Mearle in this tiring, cat-and-mouse battle in the forest. But he then realized he was still standing high on the rickety, wooden staircase leading to the treehouse. Upon this revelation, he promptly lost his balance and fell off.

The Ballad of El Fugitive-o

"Now, Moptop! Kick them open!"

Moptop was in the midst of a horrible garden party that was taking place in his backyard against his will, but Mearle had subversively placed two egg-like canisters in the grass. Moptop didn't precisely know her plan, but he kicked both of them, causing them to shatter. A cloud of green gas billowed out of the broken eggs, choking the party-goers.

"Run, Moptop! Run to Miskatonic!"

Moptop had already started running, but stopped in his tracks.

"Miskatonic? Hell no! I'm not going there."

The party-goers, however, began to chase him before he could continue protesting, so he sprinted across the yard and jumped over the fence.

Though he only seemed to run a few blocks, passing familiar scenery, he suddenly came across a small motel that appeared to be on the Mexican border and slipped inside.

"This could be a good place to hide for a moment," Moptop thought. He didn't want to actually get a room there--he likely couldn't afford it, anyway--but he could sit in the lobby and formulate a plan. Perhaps he could steal some fruit from the kitchen and have some food for the road, as well. He wandered into a back lounge where he saw Moptop II, the gay man who shared his name, playing a piano. This struck Moptop as odd on several levels. Near the back of the room was an old cigarette machine, and Moptop considered buying a pack to celebrate the strange freedom that this flight allowed him. However, he decided this would not be a good use of his meager funds. Focusing back on his plan, Moptop pulled out his phone, only to find that it was dead. Cringing, he realized that he would have to return to his house to retrieve its power supply. Complications had already arisen.

Sneaking out the back door and down the stairs, Moptop nearly bumped into a member of the motel staff, who looked at him with great surprise, then spoke. Moptop felt a rush of anxiety through his body. This man spoke only Spanish. Moptop would have to attempt to use his feeble grasp on the language.

"Uh, perdón." Off to a great start. "Estoy . . . estoy . . . llamar a mí . . . uh . . . casa."

The man looked at Moptop skeptically.

Just then, Moptop saw Sloacula ascending an adjacent set of stairs. "Moptop?" he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hey!" Moptop replied. "Hang on." Moptop turned back to the staff worker. "Lo siento." Moptop felt slightly saddened that he easily remembered how to say "I'm sorry."

"Estoy llamar con . . . uh. . . ." Moptop resorted to simply pointing at Sloacula. "He's my friend."

"Oh, he's your friend?" the man asked. Moptop was furious to realize the man could speak English all along, and was probably just watching Moptop flounder for his own amusement.

"YOU BASTARD!"

Great Show, Awesome Job!

The hidden TV camera showed the various cast members approaching the theatre and nervously entering. Some arrived by train, some were walking, and some even emerged from a manhole in the street. Baldo, tired of running, rode through the streets on the top of a bus.

The camera panned over to Gunther, who was wearing a green suit and grinning mischievously. "Now, folks . . . you won't believe what we do next!" A drumroll was heard, and with a great flourish, Gunther pressed the red button. The screen froze as the building exploded, the credits rolled, and the audience roared with laughter.

Courtesy and Goodwill

As Moptop walked toward the mall entrance, he intersected paths with a middle-aged woman, and Moptop reached for the door first to open it for her. He held it open, but the woman stared at him for several seconds, pulled a phone out of her purse, and began texting.

Moptop was furious at this brazenly impolite behavior. "Look," he shouted at her. "You may find yourself living in a shotgun shack! You may find yourself in another part of the world!"

Nole and Cajun Mother gently pushed Moptop through the door as the woman continued staring and Moptop continued ranting. "You may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile, lady!"

Swank

As he followed Dietrich onto the makeshift, pool-table stage in the basement, Moptop couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to go horribly awry. Dietrich strapped on his guitar and began playing--it was a song Moptop knew, but had never actually played, so he did his best to follow along. Just when things were starting to fall into place, the lights in the basement dimmed slightly, and three students from Miskatonic emerged from the small crowd.

"Dear God," Moptop thought. One of them spoke.

"Okay! Well, that was good, but since we're here to do a music ed workshop, I think we'll step in and discuss here."

"You've got to be kidding!" Moptop exclaimed. The girl laughed and began her presentation. Though outraged, Moptop was unsure of an effective plan to quash the proceedings. He decided it would be best to seduce one of them, and began a half-hearted attempt to do this as Dietrich provided the appropriate "wah-wah" guitar accompaniment. The response from the recipient was lukewarm at best, so Moptop decided to simply leave.

He wandered to the center of the city's marketplace, where he found a nightclub and slipped in amongst the patrons. "Swanky joint," he thought, as he considered the decor and fashion of those inside, which were all evocative of the 1920s. Most of the women were dressed in furs and the men in white tuxedos. He stood under the main support arch of the building and gazed up at the paintings on the ceiling.

Mr. P appeared from the crowd and approached Moptop. "The acoustics in here are incredible!" he proclaimed. "I can't wait to sing in here!"

Moptop was about to respond, but caught a peripheral flash of a figure running out of the club. It appeared to be one of the formally-attired women he had seen milling about.

Mr. C tapped Moptop on the shoulder as Moptop started to follow the woman. "Have you noticed the acoustics in here? Wow. They're just great."

"Yeah, I noticed," said Moptop, who then ignored Mr. C and continued following the woman.

She had stepped outside into the rain in the alleyway, where she was approached by a street waif selling newspapers. As the child approached, trying to goad her into buying a paper, the woman pulled out a tommy gun. Moptop dove behind a garbage can.

The woman pulled the trigger, pelting the child with thousands of bullets. However, Moptop realized that the gun was actually more of a high-powered flashlight, as it was shooting beams of incredibly bright light. "You're gonna wish you had some eyedrops now, kid!" the woman screamed, laughing maniacally as she continued the attack.

The authorities soon arrived on horseback and apprehended the female gangster, and the removal of her evil presence had surprising results. Moptop noticed that many of the shops' wares began disappearing.

"Ah, no more unnecessary expense!" sighed a relieved shopkeeper, whose basket of corn had shrunk to half its size. "You see," the man explained, "If there is less of my corn sitting out, more will be bought and less of it will rot. Try some and see!"

The man held an ear of corn into Moptop's face.

"Try some!"

"No."

Dark Climb of the Soul

Moptop followed Nole to the checkout of the grocery store and began unloading their items without paying much attention to what he was doing. However, he was somewhat startled when he realized that he had placed several bags of green plastic army men on the belt. "Hey, these are like the ones I had when I was a kid," he thought. "The ones that got stolen!" Indeed, it became apparent that they were the very same ones. Moptop was quite pleased.

"Oh, I forgot a cart," Nole said to Moptop. "It's over in the produce section. Go grab it for me."

Moptop soon found the cart and began to return it, but he found that it had been commandeered by an elderly woman and a young girl, who appeared to be her granddaughter.

"Excuse me," Moptop said. "I left some things in this cart."

"It's ours now!" the girl exclaimed.

Moptop glared at both of them and left the store.

When Moptop returned to the parking lot, he found the girl alone with the cart, which was now full of fruit.

"What happened to your grandmother?" asked Moptop.

"I need to get up there," the girl replied, pointing to a house near the top of a distant hill. The house was completely dark, surrounded by a thick forest, and its silhouette was only visible courtesy of the full and intensely bright moon.

"Well, you shouldn't be going alone at this time of night. Here, I'll. . . ."

When he turned to face the girl, she had disappeared. With an exasperated sigh, Moptop began to push the cart.

The only viable path to the house led to a steep, dangerous ridge, which was covered with fallen trees and thorn-filled bushes. Attempting to navigate a shopping cart through such terrain was completely unreasonable, but Moptop continued, though much of the fruit was falling out. He watched as a pineapple and bunch of grapes tumbled down the treacherous ridge and suddenly became extremely frightened. The moon's glow seemed to intensify, highlighting the many dangers of the ridge.

Moptop finally arrived at the house and knocked on the front door. He could somewhat see through the curtains that it was nicely-furnished and comfortable inside, lit by a fireplace. A stern, yet distinguished-looking man opened the door.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"Excuse me, sir. Do you have a wife or granddaughter living here?"

The man scowled and slammed the door shut.

"Wait!" shouted Moptop, who was still out of breath from the climb. "I have the fruit!"

The man cracked the door open again, looked at Moptop and the cart, and then beckoned for him to enter.

The old woman and young girl were inside, as well as another man sitting on a couch. There was music playing in the background, and the man on the couch was pushing the buttons on a phone, each tone somewhat correlating to the melody of the song. It was very irritating.

"Sorry, sir. Most of the fruit fell out, but I had to climb up that ridge."

"No matter," said the man. "I thank you." The girl and grandmother smiled. "What is your name?"

"Moptop."

"I am Carl." With this, the man leaned close to Moptop, placing his hands near Moptop's mouth. The man suddenly heaved, gagging as though he had swallowed a great amount of blood.

"I know what happened to you!" the man gasped.

Moptop was shocked, but he felt all the pain from his body seem to melt away.

"I'm so sorry, my boy," Carl whispered. "I'll take it. Go and live your life."

Somewhat shaken, Moptop staggered out the door and returned to his car. He searched for a pen and paper to write down what had happened, but couldn't find any. He pulled into a store to quickly purchase writing materials before he forgot any of the details of the night's events.

He found a pen and a small memo pad, and, as he stood in the checkout line, feverishly scribbled down notes. The woman at the register was trying to sell the woman in front of Moptop on the store's exclusive club. "If you become a member, you'll receive this free gift," she droned, holding up a frilly paper heart.

Moptop continued writing, but looked up when he realized the checker had stopped talking. She was reading Moptop's notes: "supermarket . . . army men . . . girl . . . Carl, older African-American gent . . . strange power. . . ."

The woman stared blankly at Moptop.

"What?" he said, with contempt. "Did you know this pen costs seven dollars? That's ridiculous. You should be ashamed."

Thy Great Reward

The children scurried through the forest and into the mine, one clutching a treasure map and compass. Moptop recognized some of them from his old job, so he decided to follow, mainly for purposes of amusement. He soon deduced, from their excited chattering, that they were attempting to steal the gold of the ancient pirate lich. He followed them until they reached the chamber of the lich, where he was awaiting the youthful adventurers. "Now you must past the test!" the pirate rasped, as he waved his arms and conjured a jumbled mix of letters. "What is my name?"

Moptop vaguely remembered that this was from a book. If one could remember the being's name, he would be rewarded with treasure. Moptop racked his brain, trying to remember that passage from the book as he watched the children, one at a time, try to rearrange the letters. None had been successful.

"I've got it!" thought Moptop, as the image of the book's page appeared in his mind. It read, in large black letters, "My name is ROGE DOGER." Smirking, Moptop took his place in the line, just behind the last child.

Moptop looked over the child's shoulder and felt a rush of shock through his body when he saw that the lettered tiles read "bababababa." The child presented the tiles to the lich, who replied, "You are correct! My name is BA BA BA BA BA!"

With this, Moptop vanished from the mines, appearing in a backyard party held by his old job. He was relieved to see Notop there, but was soon under a barrage of questions and smalltalk from the annoyingly friendly children, and, even worse, their parents.

One such woman, though Moptop tried to talk privately with Notop, kept butting in on their conversation. "Did you get the point of that marketing exercise?" She asked them.

"Well," replied Notop, "I think I got more of the historical point of it all."

"It was simple," said Moptop, who was becoming more and more irritated at the woman. "If you're trying to market a fancy, Persian hotel, then you need to use evocative language to sell the 'exoticness' or whatever. I mean, it's semantics! Just say, 'come and be refreshed in the fertile crescent of luxury' or something. IT WAS SIMPLE!" Moptop was now pacing back and forth, raising his voice and gesturing violently.

"Oh my God!" the woman said, turning to Notop. "You know who he reminds me of? He's Greg, my mother!"

Moptop screamed.

Notop offered to give Moptop a ride home, which was fine until he turned around into the the backseat to find something, completely abandoning the wheel. Moptop took a couple seconds to realize this, and then grabbed the wheel to keep the car on the road. "Ah, good thinking," Notop said, still digging around in the back. "The old emergency side-grab."

"Whoa! What are you doing?" shouted Moptop. Moptop now had to squeeze partially into the driver's side of the car to reach the brake pedal. The road was now along a high cliff side. Moptop tried his best to maneuver the vehicle in this fashion, but the road took a sharp turn. As the car swerved, Notop's prized fishing lure began to fly out the window. Moptop attempted to grab it, but he flew out of the window as well.

He fell hundreds of feet, landing in the river below. He was amazed that he survived the fall, because the water was very shallow--it only went up to about his waist. The river and surrounding cliffs were beautiful, but Moptop was too angry about the circumstances leading to his arrival in the river to truly enjoy it. He located the fishing lure, pocketed it, and began walking through the water, which would inevitably lead back to Miskatonic.

After hours of wading, in which he saw some algae-covered pigs walking around and many happy tourist families camping on the riverbanks, he indeed arrived at Miskatonic and stormed through the main parking lot toward the commons building. He burst through the doors and found that some sort of small, formal dance was in progress. Notop was ballroom dancing with a girl while Mrs. Notop looked on in disapproval. Moptop approached and, with a glare, handed Notop the fishing lure.

"Oh, wow! Thanks!" said Notop. He took the lure and lovingly examined it, but it slipped out of his hand and shattered on the floor. Moptop prepared to strangle him.

"Oh, here. Why don't you cut in?" Notop said, thrusting the girl into Moptop's arms.

"Uh. Hi." said Moptop. He felt quite awkward and nervous about dancing with a nicely-dressed girl, especially considering he was still wet and covered in seaweed. "Listen, I'm not a very good dancer anyway, and I just got out of a river, so. . . ."

"Oh, come on. It's easy!" replied the girl. "Just follow me!"

They danced, Moptop still feeling uncomfortable but managing the steps with a small degree of competence. Soon, the string quartet concluded the gentle accompanying music and the couples came to their final steps. Moptop decided to properly introduce himself to the girl.

"So, I'm Moptop. . . ."

But before he could continue, the girl kissed him, getting bright lipstick all over his face. He could see Notop giving him an embarrassingly exaggerated thumbs-up from the corner of his eye.

Mountain Mansion Zone, Act Two

This was truly an awe-inspiring place. It was a house . . . or, rather, a mansion, which was built into the side of the mountain. The outer wall was thick glass, so one could easily see all of the rooms from outside. Moptop had found his way inside and was now exploring. Each floor of the house was like a step of a giant staircase, so he simply had to jump and climb the terraces to get to the next area. Most of the floors were grass, but most were decorated with antique furniture, such as grandfather clocks and bookshelves, which sat comfortably beside small waterfalls and pools.

However, as Moptop discovered, each floor was also guarded with various traps. He had to dodge occasional lasers, boulders, and sawblades, but kept climbing and exploring until he reached the top floor, which was a garden at the peak of the mountain. The garden had the appearance of an ancient ruin, with crumbling stone pillars and the like.

It was here that Moptop found the owner of the house, an incredibly old man, sitting in an overstuffed chair. The man stared at Moptop for a moment, then spoke.

"Ah, so you got through. Congratulations."

"Oh, hello, sir." Moptop said. "This place is incredible."

"It's not for sale, if that's what you're getting at." the old man snapped.

Where is Thy Sting?

Clad in a tattered, grey robe, Moptop wandered through the abandoned house. Nearly everything in the house was broken and covered in dust, and, aside from the occasional creak, all was quiet. So far, the only living thing in the building was a small child he had come across in one of the rooms, and he had found the meeting extremely disquieting.

It was nothing, however, compared to what he now encountered. A dead child with vacant eyes and a greyish pallor was running around in circles in one of the rooms. Disgusted and terrified, Moptop tried to push the child over--anything to get it away from him--but it simply ignored him and kept running. Moptop fled the room.

Arriving in another area of the house, he found the TV cameras, crew, the scantily-clad hostess of the show, and the director. It was time.

"Welcome," Moptop said, in a melodramatic moan, "To the House of Terror!"

All Aboard!

Moptop and Ellynnorr arrived in an extremely touristy town, which looked not unlike an idealized version of an Alpine village. The snow-capped buildings were quaint and the friendly passersby were all eager to tell them about the town's major attraction, the Edible Train. The pair was skeptical that such a thing could exist, but nevertheless decided to investigate.

Conveniently, the train was near a bar, which Ellynorr and Moptop entered and proceeded to order drinks. Moptop was already feeling somewhat horrified at the thought of eating a piece of a train that millions of tourists had also eaten off of, so he was especially disgusted when a nearby woman spat on the floor of the bar.

"Oh, that was great," he said, bitterly. "Very classy of you."

"Oh, I apologize!" replied the woman. "Here, let me buy you a drink!"

Before he could decline, the woman disappeared through the crowd and returned with a mostly-empty glass of beer.

"Uh, thanks."

Just then, the famed edible train pulled into the bar. It was enormous, even with the many bites that had been taken out of it, and appeared to be constructed out of gingerbread or something similar.

Ellynnorr and Moptop looked at each other.

"Well," she said, "Are you going to try it?"

Moptop leaned closer to the train, but couldn't bring himself to do it.

The Quintonian appeared out of the crowd and, casting an unenthusiastic glance at the train, slowly spoke. "I've done it before. It was different when I was a kid."

The Abduction of Brunk, Part II

Nole and Moptop were now trying to sneak through the neighborhood into which the thugs' getaway car had turned. Moptop's attempt at going through one of the labyrinthine houses had been disastrous, as he had been forced to find a ghostlike child who was playing hide-and-seek. They couldn't afford another delay such as that, so they did their best to slip behind bushes and fences, though the bright sun was not conducive to being stealthy.

Sure enough, Brunk spotted them from the back of the car and screamed, in an extremely high voice, "Helpmehelpmehelpmehelpmehelpmeeeee!"

"Really? Why are we even trying to save this guy?" sighed Moptop.

The car sped off to lose the two attempted rescuers, but it was obvious that they were headed to the mansion at the top of the hill, which was surrounded by an extensive garden. Making it on foot would be difficult, at best.

Nole walked up the trail fairly quickly, but Moptop couldn't help but notice the strange wildlife in this garden. He saw a dizzying array of spiders, some large and colorful. He also noted a tiny blue lizard on the ground, which appeared to be dancing to unheard music.

"Did you see that?" he asked Nole.

"No," Nole replied, curtly.

The pair eventually arrived at the main lawn, where they saw the mastermind of this kidnapping plot--the Fat Man. He was flanked by his two fearsome bodyguards, Moonface and Nathor.

"Bring him out! Let him go!" demanded Moptop.

"No!" shouted the Fat Man. "He's mine!"

"Why do you want him?"

"It doesn't matter! You can't have him! Get 'em, men!"

The thugs lumbered toward them, but Nole pulled out a frying pan and smashed it over both of their heads. In fact, as if to drive home the point, he chased them around and did it repeatedly. Moptop and the Fat Man looked on in disbelief.

"Okay, fine." the Fat Man said. "You can have him back."

Brunk joined the party.

The Abduction of Brunk, Part I

Moptop, dressed in a suit, had an eerie feeling that he had been in this part of the city before. It was brightly lit, even during the daytime, and he was following Dietrich into an enormous, upscale hotel. He wasn't sure where Dietrich was going, but figured it would be best to stay close.

Sure enough, he had stayed here once before and gotten lost in the hallways, which were divided in the center. Some access points required walking on the ledge on the outside of the building. He followed Dietrich into the elevator, now especially determined to not accidentally get separated. The elevator inexplicably stopped on a floor, and the doors opened to reveal two men forcing another man into the elevator directly across. Moptop immediately knew that something was wrong, and was horrified when he realized that the kidnapped man was Brunk!

"Hey!" shouted Moptop, who pushed through the passengers on his elevator to get across to the one carrying Brunk. Unfortunately, he could not make it in time, with the doors shutting before he could possibly squeeze through. Instead, he stepped in the next elevator with the hope of cutting them off at the next floor.

While riding this elevator, Moptop was quite alarmed when one of the kidnappers burst through the wall, brandishing a guitar like a club. Moptop dodged the swings, but was unsure of how to keep defending himself. There was a potted plant in the corner of the elevator, but he couldn't reach it. However, in an even more alarming turn of events, Nole burst through the ceiling and knocked the thug out with another guitar. "I. . . ." Moptop attempted to thank him, but was mostly speechless. Nole joined the party.

The two took the elevator back down to the hotel lobby to continue the chase, and they were stopped by an attractive girl with dark hair and glasses. "Wait!" she cried. "I know where they're going!" She joined them in running out of the building, where they could see a black car driving off. The girl in glasses joined the party.

"Don't worry," Nole said, suddenly. "I've bought stock in this rescue. If we pull this off, we'll be rich!"

The Presby Picnic

Resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be a movie star like Dietrich, Moptop headed up to his Grandfather's place in the mountains. He didn't often have visitors, which made it all the more surprising when Moptop arrived and found a large array of picnic tables set up. What was even more shocking is that this picnic was apparently thrown by people in the choir of his old church.

Moptop sought out his old friend Krosbi, whom he was very glad to see. "I've been wondering what happened to you!"

"Well, we all thought you had vanished, too," replied Krosbi.

The conversation, unfortunately, was cut short when Moptop saw the Clemlets, still very young and extremely irritating, climbing all over his Grandfather's tractors. "Hey, get down from there!" he yelled. "God, you little punks are so fucking annoying!"

Everyone in the picnic stopped and stared at Moptop, horrified by this outburst. "What?" asked Moptop. "These kids have to learn that life ain't so easy. Better sooner than later. You might say it's . . . no picnic?" He chuckled at his own terrible joke, while everyone continued staring at him.

Just then, Moptop noticed a humanoid creature running through the trees. "Excuse me," he said to the Presbyterians, and jumped on one of the tractors. He engaged in a very low-speed chase with the wild man. He stopped when he got to a grove of trees that were adorned with cow skulls, where he realized the futility of this hunt. It would be dark soon, and he would be no match for the wild man then.

He headed back to his Grandfather's house, and was somewhat disturbed to find that most of the picnic-goers were inside, asleep.

Fashion and Fame

Moptop, The Quintonian, and The Creepster walked down the wasteland of Tejon Street, stepping over prostrate hobos in the street when necessary, and turned the corner to enter The Ritz. Usually, Moptop paid little heed to the posters and ads in the vestibule of the club, but one caught his eye today: "High-Fashion Extras Sought for Movie."

The Creepster saw it, as well, and suggested that Moptop look into it. Against his better judgment, Moptop called the number. A man answered the phone, identified himself as "Giovanni," and agreed to meet them there. Apparently, the role was simply wearing a new leather jacket on-screen.

The other two men entered the building proper, but Moptop stayed on the patio, keeping an eye out for Giovanni.

Strangely, the poster was now replaced by a glass display case that held the outfit in question. It was a bright red, form-fitting, woman's catsuit--hardly a simple leather jacket. Montano appeared, looked over Moptop's shoulder, and whispered, "I don't think you'll look good in that."

"I should say not!" replied Moptop, who stormed into the club.

He found Giovanni inside, sitting cross-legged in a corner and holding a hand-written cardboard sign that read, "Desperately seeking extra in movie."

"Well . . . maybe if you were a little more honest, people would actually wear your outfits!" Moptop said.

"YEAH," sneered The Creepster, who really had no idea what was going on.

Health

The heavy helmet was sweltering in the afternoon heat. Moptop pulled it off, wondering why everyone was wearing them for the baseball game. One of the girls on his team followed suit, saying, "I don't know why they had us wear these."

"Yeah," replied Moptop. "Maybe if we were playing hockey this would be justifiable, but this is just this newfangled 'stick ball' game."

The next morning, Moptop got into his car and headed downtown. He noticed a large number of people lining the streets, all motionless and staring at him. "Huh," thought Moptop. He rolled one of the windows down to get a closer look, and one of the people suddenly sprung to life, grabbing at his arm. "Whoa!" Moptop slammed on the accelerator to get away.

Arriving at the hospital, he put on his scrubs and made his way through the kitchen, where he observed a woman trying to get through, but being hounded by a security guard in a suit. She would walk a few steps, then be stopped by the man, who would ask, in slow and somewhat broken English, "Who . . . are you?"

"Here's my clearance. I'm supposed to be here!" She would answer, then take a few more steps, only to have the same exchange.

This continued for several minutes, until she'd finally had enough. After the man asked her yet again, she reached into one of the cabinets, pulling out a bag of pasta and smacking him in the face, screaming, "I am the spaghetti!"

Pantomime

Without any knowledge of why or how, Moptop ran through the halls of the giant opera house, following a dark-haired woman who knew where the treasure was hidden. Guards were stationed throughout, so the pair tried to keep to the shadows, but most of the guards' attention was directed toward the main hall, where the opera was taking place.

The two were knocked off balance when the entire building suddenly lurched, and they could hear a din of complaint from the patrons inside the hall. "This isn't just an opera house, is it?" asked Moptop. "This is . . . a ship?" The woman smiled, gesturing for him to follow.

They ran until they reached a basement just below and adjacent to the stage. The woman produced two Victorian costumes and a case of stage makeup. "Come on," she said, tossing the grey suit and top hat to Moptop. "We've got to get across the ship, and this is the quickest way."

"Across the stage?"

"Time for our entrance," she said, slyly.

Not knowing what he was doing, Moptop stepped onto the empty stage with the woman. The hall was completely silent, and all attention was on them. Slow, delicate harp music began to play, and the pair began their performance. Despite not knowing the context of the scene or even what opera this was, Moptop found it remarkably easy to improvise simply by following the woman's movements. Besides, he figured that most eyes were on her, anyway, as she was strikingly beautiful. The subdued music faded to its end, and the two struck their final pose. The hall remained hushed for a moment, but an ovation slowly and steadily grew. The woman again slyly smiled at Moptop, and whispered, "Three, two, one." The pair jumped down a chute on the stage, emerging in another hallway and continuing their search.

As they rounded another corner of the again-turbulent ship, Moptop was stopped by a burly man with a large mustache. "Hey, you there! I desperately need your help!"

Moptop did not want to leave the woman, but felt he had no choice but to go with the man. He cast a desperate glance over his shoulder as he walked away, but she was already gone.

The man led him outside the ship, to the edge of a great desert. There was a large field of seawheat here, which was thrashing about wildly in the gathering winds. The man handed Moptop a strange, ornately-decorated scythe and yelled, in order to be heard, "We have to get it all harvested before the storm!" Moptop set to work, but it was a struggle as the weather became worse and worse.

"Hey," yelled the man again, who had just noticed Moptop's costume and makeup. "You must be a man of the theatre! Tell me what you think of this!" At this, the man began singing the aria "Won't You Come and Romp With Me" in a slightly unpleasant bass voice. The winds picked up and the electrical storm on the horizon intensified, and Moptop looked on in horror as large arcs of light cut through the distant mountains.

Revenge!

Getting the opportunity to see Johnny Cash promised to be one of the very finest concert experiences of all time. However, as Moptop scanned the crowd, he spied the familiar, angry face of k.d. lang.

There was going to be trouble.

Playtime

The moment he entered the cabin, Moptop knew that something was definitely amiss. The furniture was all rearranged . . . even the dimensions and angles of the walls looked different. He climbed into the loft on the second level, and he found, to his great surprise, dozens of animated toys scurrying about. The sight was absurd. They seemed to be "redecorating" the place in the most destructive way possible, throwing objects around at random.

"Hey!" Moptop shouted. "What's going on here!?"

The three leaders of the toys, strange robot dolls with dice on their heads, looked up from their business and charged at Moptop. Unfortunately for them, they were no larger than two feet tall, so their assault was easily pushed aside.

"Get out!" squeaked the toys. "This is ours now! Get out!"

"What? This is RIDICULOUS!" screamed Moptop.

"Shut up! We're in charge!"

"Argh!"

Moptop picked them up and tossed them out the window. Turning back to the room with a sigh, he began the arduous task of cleaning up.

Mall out of Space

A fugitive in the Extraplanar Citadel, young Moptop hid inside a clothes rack, listening for the footsteps of the Hunters. He knew that his only choice for surviving the night was to elude them until the doors opened at sunrise, but it would be difficult to remain unnoticed in such a closed space, since the Hunters were everything that their name implied--efficient, ruthless, and unrelenting once they had chosen their game.

He heard (or perhaps felt) a presence in the area, and peeked out from behind the clothes. The Hunters had entered and begun searching among the display cases. Young Moptop slipped out and headed in the opposite direction.

Expecting to find that the sun had risen by now, he was dismayed to find that it was still nighttime, and since it was also raining heavily, the Hunters would simply chase him down even if he managed to get through the parking lot.

Luckily, another unforeseen option now presented itself. Spotting a rocketship-styled ride near the vending machines, young Moptop inserted a quarter, climbed inside, and phased back into his own dimension.

Time Off

Moptop figured that, since everyone else was on vacation, it was reasonable that he took a trip, as well. So he booked a flight with the intention of visiting some old friends in the north. When he arrived, however, he couldn't work up the courage to set foot back at Miskatonic, so he drove around aimlessly until coming across a plaza in the center of a small shopping center. "This seems like a good place to rest," he thought, so he parked the car and sat down near the fountain in the center of the square.

Suddenly, he heard a phone ringing from a nearby booth. He decided to answer it, and, to his great surprise, found that it was his father calling.

"Boy," he said, angrily, "You'd better not be in Mexico."

"No. No, I am not. Excuse me . . . I have to go."

He had noticed a tall, handsome man in a suit, carrying a viola and walking through the square. Moptop approached and spoke.

"Excuse me. I regret to inform you that I must kill you now."

The Beautiful Game

Moptop followed his parents as they strolled down the crowded market square, looking for a restaurant or other eating establishment. One building stood out--a giant bar built in a style that resembled half of a stadium. The place was absolutely packed, but, for some reason, the parents seemed set on this as the choice for lunch.

The raucous patrons of the bar were all engaged in the game of keeping a soccer ball in the air, kicking it or bouncing it off their heads hundreds of feet toward the makeshift tarp ceiling of the building. Predictably, the ball eventually came toward Moptop, and he attempted to swat it back into the air with his arm. He missed. The ball hit the ground, and the crowd roared in a mix of anger and derision. Moptop attempted to apologize for his blunder. "Uh, I'm sorry . . . I guess I'm not very athletic anymore." However, the crowd would have none of it, and the mob began to close in on him.

He had little choice but to scurry under the tables toward a back room, which would, hopefully, at least buy him some time as the crowd attempted to squeeze through. As he emerged from beneath the tables headed toward a side door, he was very surprised to find The Quintonian sitting at one of the tables, nonchalantly drinking a glass of tea.

"You should probably go somewhere else to eat," he softly intoned.

"Oh, really, Q? You think I should go eat where the people aren't trying to kill me? YEAH. THANKS."

Xeno-

"So, you can stay in here," said Donbran, gesturing toward a back room with a couch and a TV. "The couch folds out into a bed if you're into that sort of thing. I'm really glad you decided to stay here."

"Thanks, I appreciate this," replied Moptop, who moved his bags into the room and sat down on the couch.

As he was walking out of the room, Donbran paused, adding as an afterthought, "Oh, by the way. I figured you wouldn't mind, but there's been some sort of dwarf that comes into this room. It's invisible most of the time, but sometimes not. Might come in and . . . well, I don't know what he might do. Good night!"

"What!?" Before Moptop could speak, Donbran had closed the door and left him in the dark room.

Hours passed, and, unable to sleep, Moptop perched in the corner of the couch, eying the door. Ellynnorr, who had accompanied him on this journey, came into the room and explained that, sharing his concern about invisible presences in the night, she had also been unable to sleep. The two stayed awake well into the night, chatting to alleviate the tension of keeping watch.

Hours passed, and just as he was about to drift into sleep, Moptop reclined and cast a final glance across the room. He saw a four-foot-tall figure standing behind the TV, staring at him with completely black eyes.

Spooktacular (Postlude)

As Moptop and Montano wandered the immense labyrinth, which seemed to have no end, they passed the time by discussing their favorite pop music from the 1980s.

"I'd have to say that The Cure edges out Depeche Mode for me. Just by a little."

"Oh, I don't know. Depeche Mode was really important in the development of new wave. They were really a continuation of what Kraftwerk was doing before."

However, Moptop noticed that Montano had a deep wound in his shoulder, which was bleeding profusely.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked.

"Oh, that? Yeah, I wouldn't worry about that," Montano replied.

"It looks pretty serious."

"No, it's nothing. Really."

Spooktacular

Moptop and Montano found themselves leading a phalanx of unruly children, charged with chaperoning them as they performed the yearly trick-or-treating ritual. To make matters worse, they had to go through the exceedingly dangerous Canyon Neighborhood, which was surrounded by sheer cliff drop-offs and thick forests.

The children's parents were already skeptical about the pair being in charge for the night, yet, oddly, did nothing to suggest another course of action. One father shook his fist as they departed, exclaiming, "If you two let our kids get kidnapped by cultists, you'll never hear the end of it!"

Thus, the group set out into the pitch blackness of the forest, en route to the nearby suburban neighborhood. Things immediately got off to a rocky start, as the children did not approve of Montano and Moptop's choice of costumes. Both were wearing rather nondescript skeleton outfits.

"Um, EXCUSE me," said a ten-year-old devil. "We're trying to look cool here. Would you mind not standing so close to us?"

"Sorry--our mistake," said Montano.

The forest path to the suburbs was full of dangerous and bizarre entities, such as a grove of tree-demons. Montano and Moptop were understandably alarmed, but the children seemed unimpressed. At one point, a witch and a rat-like creature also approached the group, and Montano drove them away by throwing rocks and sticks.

"Ugh, you guys SUCK," sighed an eight-year-old princess, rolling her eyes in disgust.

The night dragged on, and after what seemed like hours of wandering through a maze of upper-middle-class housing, the pair began pondering a way to make the night at all beneficial. As they approached the final house on the block, they decided it was now or never, and grabbed treat bags from two of the children.

"Should we try it?" asked Moptop.

"I think so," replied Montano.

Both of them timidly extended their bags, but found a hostile reaction from the woman at the door.

"No," she said, dismissively. "You're too old."

An Other Close Call

As he stood in the midst of literally hundreds of archers on the palisade, Moptop felt a bit out of his element. He'd used a bow before, but his skills were severly limited, at best. Now, as flaming missiles from the enemy's trebuchet scattered across the field, he was expected to defend the castle? The commander gave the word and the men raised their bows.

"Ready!" Moptop struggled to bend back the bowstring, which was nearly as tall as he.

"Aim!" A huge swarm of hell-hounds charged across the field.

"Fire!" Moptop released the string, and the arrow seemingly fell out of his bow in a pathetic arc. The archers standing next to him glared in disapproval. However, a lick of flame from a trebuchet missile caught the fletching of his arrow, and the now-flaming stick spiraled down to the spot where the hell-hounds were now approaching the gate. Due to the apparently highly-flammable nature of the beasts, their entire regiment went up in flames, quelling their attack.

Moptop strongly questioned the likelihood of this turn of events, but determined it best to not dwell on it too much.

I Ain't 'Fraid-a No Wraiths

The spectral figures that roamed the house were less like humanoid forms than swirling clouds of hands, eyes, and mouths. Though transparent, some were black, some were light grey, and others, most terrifyingly, were entirely invisible. These strange entities had absorbed most of the heat from Moptop's house, and he tried to remain hidden as they continually flew around each of the rooms, muttering to themselves in hushed tones.

He slipped from spot to spot for about an hour, hiding behind furniture or whatever cover he could find, making his way to the front door. He knew they wouldn't be able to survive the outside sun, but the trick would be to get outside without their noticing.

Praying he wouldn't be spotted by an invisible one, Moptop sprinted toward the door as soon as a particularly large grey one turned its "back." Dozens of the shadow-figures instantly followed in pursuit, wailing and grabbing at him. He felt invisible grips take hold of his arm and leg, but managed to somehow slip out and successfully jump through the door.

Shivering but thankful to be alive, Moptop leaned against the house's brick facade to catch his breath, and was shocked to see the silhouette of a cat in the window. The animal meowed, then darted away as a shadow-figure approached. There were, in fact, four cats trapped in the house with the shadows, and who knew what could happen to them if they were left alone. Moptop found himself in a quandary. Cats are difficult to catch, but these four were clearly in danger. Could he bring himself to attempt such a dangerous feline rescue?

He had no choice. Grabbing the potted geranium on the porch as his weapon, Moptop charged, screaming, back into the fray.

Passing Grades

Moptop and Jack were browsing the CD section of the warehouse when they were pleasantly surprised to see one of their professors, Dr. Hammerthorn, in the next aisle. Moptop called him over and the three chatted pleasantly for a while. "Do you have any recommendations?" inquired Jack, gesturing to the wide array of albums that surrounded them.

"Hmm. You know, you guys should really be listening to this. Parliament-Funkadelic. Check it out!"

"Ah, yes, that's good stuff," Moptop concurred. The three then said their good-byes and went their separate ways.

As Moptop moved on to another section of the warehouse, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed. He continued pretending to nonchalantly browse the aisles, and, as he suspected, he saw a dark figure peek out from behind one of the displays. Turning quickly on his heels, he caught a clearer view of this shadow figure, and realized it was Hammerthorn, though he had undergone a transformation.

Hammerthorn now stood approximately nine feet tall, with a greyish pallor and rows of needles emerging from his skin. Upon the realization that he had been spotted, Hammerthorn cast aside any attempts at stealth and charged toward moptop, shaking his needle-covered fists and screaming, "YOU . . . CANNOT . . . SING!"

A short chase ensued, but, luckily for Moptop, he had a significant advantage of distance. Instead of continuing the pursuit, Hammerthorn skidded to a halt, snatched a bag from one of the warehouse shelves, and threw it.

The bag flew in a perfect arc, hitting Moptop squarely in the face, where it exploded on impact. Now covered in the contents of the bag--brackish water and kelp--Moptop pulled a starfish off his face and looked at the label on the bag. "Assorted Crustaceans." He had never felt such shame.

Bug Battle Debacle

The salesman, wearing a brown checkered suit and straw hat, noticed that Moptop and his companions were browsing the rows of cages in which the battle bugs were nesting. Sensing that the opportunity was ripe, he leaped into action.

"We got the finest bugs in the county, sir! See anything that tickles your fancy?"

"No, not really," replied Moptop. "You make these bugs fight?"

"Yes sir, and we've got some really good ones in stock. Observe!"

The salesman pulled out a green worm with a long, hooked tail, which ended in a wicked-looking stinger. The bug hissed menacingly.

"This one," the salesman proudly declared, "Is our new favorite." He placed the worm in a cage with a giant hornet, which appeared to be covered in a metal shell. The salesman rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

The hornet swooped down in an attempt to sting the worm, but the worm struck out with its tail and easily speared the hornet out of the air.

"Oh, God!" Moptop cried. "Why would you even do that?" The salesman did not reply, but flashed a rather maniacal grin. The other bugs in the cages began to cause a ruckus, and it was quickly revealed why. . . .

A giant spider, larger than a building, was shuffling over the hill. At the same instant, a similarly giant wasp descended from the sky and the two bugs became locked in a fearsome battle not unlike the one that had just taken place, albeit on a much larger scale.

Broken Face

Having to wear the new "business casual" clothing filled Moptop with outright hatred. It wasn't going to fool anyone. He felt a sudden twinge of pain in one of his teeth, possibly from clenching his jaw. He went to look in the mirror, and was horrified to find that one of his teeth had shattered, and blood had begun pouring out of his mouth. He tried to apply pressure to stop the bleeding, but, with a popping noise, half of his jaw was now detached. . . . His beloved orange cat, Simon, could do nothing to help and ran out the door in fright.

The Great Escape

Perhaps it had come to the end of the line. Although they had successfully navigated the dark streets without being detected thus far, the companions knew that it would only be a matter of time before their pursuers split up and surrounded them. They could only hide in the factories for so long.

It was then that Moptop spotted the train. "Over here!" he called to the others. The upper hatch was locked, but there were sufficient handles and footholds for everyone to ride on the outer shell. In the short distance, they could hear the clatter of the troops, who were in hot pursuit. It seemed there was little choice for their course of action.

The four took hold of the train's exterior and Dietrich pulled the starting lever, bringing the machine to life with a lurch. "Hold on!" The train pulled into the tunnel just as the troops rounded the corner, denying them a clear shot. Moptop could barely hear their curses as the train began to pick up speed, putting a safer distance between them. Perhaps everyone could breathe for a moment.

But it was not to be so! Morphine Girl screamed as the upper hatch suddenly popped open and The Wizard emerged.

"AHA!" The Wizard cried in triumph. "Excellent, another victim in my trap!" He brandished a metallic wand, taking aim at Morphine Girl. Moptop and The Creepster were helpless as they watched, for the train continued to accelerate, forcing them to hang on tighter than before. Several metallic orbs began to spin and pulsate around the wand as it charged up.

Luckily, the sound of the wind rushing across the surface of the speeding train was loud enough that The Wizard was unable to hear Dietrich sneak up behind him. With ease, Dietrich grabbed the robes of the much smaller man and tossed him overboard, then chuckled softly to himself. The Wizard's familiar, a clay beetle, shook a tiny leg at Dietrich in rage, then leaped off the train to join his master.

With the hatch now open, the four friends were able to jump inside the train, which was surprisingly well-furnished for a military vehicle. As they took their seats at one of the many restaurant-styled booths that lined the car, The Creepster pulled a bright orange bottle from his pack. "Soooo, who wants gargle-blasters?"

"New Life" Church

Moptop tugged on the door, but it was not merely locked--the outside mechanism had bolted it shut. He and Baldo were now trapped in the church's basement, and there was a deathly chill in the air.

With a loud clanking, a separate mechanism behind the walls activated, opening the pair of thick glass doors on the opposite wall. Simultaneously, the large iron cross on the wall turned upside-down. Baldo cocked his shotgun.

Within seconds, the zombies began shambling through the open doors. Baldo took aim and fired, dispatching at least three, but they continued to inch closer. Moptop removed the fire axe from the wall and, with no small amount of nausea, began chopping through the steadily-approaching wall of undead creatures.

From the corner of his eye, however, Moptop saw that another door had opened on the side wall, so he grabbed Baldo and pulled him along as he made a run for it. The door led through several rooms, one of which was apparently the church kitchen. There was a delicious-looking cake on the counter, presumably as a snack for the youth group. But there was no time!

Critical and Commercial Failure

Remarkably, Moptop and Earthquake had received top billing for the concert, which could prove to be the big break for which they'd always hoped. Since the rest of the band had not been admitted to the school, they assembled a crack team of session musicians to back them up. They were all members of a country band, but Moptop figured they should be more than capable for tonight, at the very least. Earthquake took his usual position as lead singer, and Moptop chose to handle lead guitar duties.

The curtain rose, and Moptop played the fiery intro to "Mission Complete." He raised his guitar into the air, signaling the first entry of the whole band, but when they came in, everything was completely wrong! "Oh no," Moptop thought. He ran over to the pianist, frantically trying to demonstrate the correct part while continuing to play guitar. The pianist nodded, but went back to playing in the wrong key. Moptop continued running around the stage, trying to teach the bass player and drummer their parts on the spot, but they all ignored him and continued playing things unrelated to the song. The crowd began to boo and throw cartons of milk at Earthquake, who was nevertheless in fine voice tonight. The curtain fell before the song ended, effectively ruining Moptop and Earthquake's hopes of making a good impression at the school. Earthquake turned to the rest of the band in anger and began to berate them, one by one. "You," he said, pointing at the pedal steel player, "Are the most useless idiot I have EVER seen!"

One of the school administrators stormed backstage. "I hope you're happy for ruining the whole concert," he sneered. He started to walk away, but turned back. "Oh, and by the way, lunch in the cafeteria is free today."

The two friends sat alone at the meal, too embarrassed to sit with the rest of the new students. Moptop briefly made eye contact with an attractive Asian girl at the large table, but she quickly looked away. "Maybe we should have gone to Concordia," Earthquake muttered.

Expected Responsibilities

A hideous dragon, covered in sparkling, purple gemstones, hovered over the Byzantine-styled church. The beast was poised to destroy it, but before he could deliver the devastating slash of its claws, an unexpected defender appeared. The mosaic of Christ from behind the pulpit had become animated, and dashed onto the scene, blocking the dragon's blow with a sword. The two traded blows until the mosaic connected with a fatal strike with its sword, severing the dragon in half. Various gargoyles and imps fled in terror.

"This is the strangest job training video I've ever seen," thought Moptop.

A Distant Memory

The window had been left slightly ajar, allowing the light of the full moon to enter the room in well-defined beams. It was upon these shafts of light that the robot was able to phase into the room.

After fully materializing, he looked around at the children and their parents.

"Time to go to heaven," he said, gesturing to the rocketship on the front lawn.