You walk into a very large restaurant with high ceilings that leave the rafters exposed. Fluroescent lamps hang from the ceiling, adding light to the place and tables. Windows adorn the sides of the place, looking out onto the chaos that is Twisted. On some of the walls are paintings, photographs, and some holograms of different B-movies, and a number of people who tend to visit the UR as they're singing karaoke. The hardwood bar rests at the back of the place, it's surface polished and shiny and all together spotless (most of the time). Behind the bar are various beverages that are servered and a giant mirror. There seems to be an inordant amount of different drinks. A large stage rests in one of the corners of the restaurant, with an amazing sound system and a few microphones strung about it. Multiple round wood tables are in the room, and a swing door leads into the kitchen. Another door leads to the dance club, and another to the gym. And of course, there's and exit outside. A large fireplace rests in one of the walls, with a beautiful stone chimney that flows up and out. A long spiral staircase rests near the entrance to the kitchen, leading to a second floor balcony that overlooks the UR itself. The lights up there are a bit dimmer than those down below.
In the corner of the UR, Freakazoid (Freakious-Zoidious) kneals on the floor speaking to one of the skutters which seems to be trying despiratly to get away from him. Freakazoid wipes his eyes, "Carol! Your the only one here that understands me! I feel like I can really open up to you." He seems to be getting choked up, "I... I don't know how to say this to you, but I don't think I can live without you. Will, will you marry me?" Somehow, despite the lack of general intrest in the Restaraunt tonight, a crowd 'AWWWW's' genericly like a bad sitcom. The skutter, meanwhile, begins to bash it's own claw-like head into a wall until sparks and smoke begin to ressonate from it. Suddenly it explodes and Freakazoid's face is charred black. "Carol? CAROL!? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" Weeping and beating his fists against the floor in anguish, the (hero?) seems ready to end it all in sorrow, but apprutply his attention is diverted. "Ooooh, Nachoes!" With a leap and a bound, the Freak is up at the bar snacking on a bowl of cheetos and cupcakes.
Rystan walks into the Usual this evening. Yes, he actually walks in. His twin daggers are tucked away and invisible, and depletion is missing from his outfit, but overall, he looks the same as he always does. Only, the usual isn't the same as it always is. There's a palpable sensation of something in the air. He stares at the room for a moment, then glances at Freakazoid, who, despite it being Twisted, still somehow manages to stand out more than anyone else. "...Oh." It hits him like a sack of potatoes. .oO( ...Comic relief? Sweet Aeons protect us. )
Freakazoid has already moved on and is regaling the suffering waitress with some sob story about his life. "So I tells the guy, Hey. Joe. You need to move on with your life, and Joe just looks at me and says, 'But I can't do anything but voice overs.' I felt bad for the guy, y'know? So I pulled some strings with Stephen and got him a job doing those movie voice overs. You know what I'm talking about? He's doing good from what I hear, aside from that whole Little Tortilla Boy thing. Man, I wish I was making half the money he is now." He turns his head dramaticly as the door comes open. The waitress takes the opportunity to find something to do in the kitchen for the rest of the night. Freakazoid smiles at Rystan, "HEY! HEY MISTER MAAAAAN! HEY! HEY! How's it going!!! C'mere! I saved you a seat!!" Does he know Rystan? Probably not. Here's that insanity thing going for him again.
Rystan blinks, and suppresses an eye-roll. There's pretending to be crazy, and then there's just plain nuts. It's obvious which one this guy is from the very beginning. "... Hey there... ... my friend." No, Rystan's never met the guy before, but you never know what pretending to know someone will get you. Though, it only got him frustration with Sauza. Hmm. Such is life. "... Thanks." He moves over towards Freakazoid, deciding it'd be better to fetch himself a drink than order one right now. That atmosphere of comic tension in the air leaves too much to chance. He reaches over the bar before he finishing approaching, and helps himself to a root beer bottle. Can't go wrong with root beer.
Freakazoid pats Rystan on the back, hard. "Oh yeah! Make room for the BIG MAN! The man of the hour! The one I want to RAISE MY CHILDREN!" Without missing a beat he sits back down and nurses a soda of his own... literally. He's got it lying on a mini stretcher with a toy ambulance beside it. "Yeah, me an' you. We go waaaay back. You remember that time? That one time? Ooooh, man that was fun!" Freakazoid pauses and rubs his chin at Rystan for a long annoying 'hmmm' moment. Abruptly he snaps his fingers, "Waaaaaaait, your not Donnie Osman!" Jolting to his feet he screens unexpectantly. "OH DEAR LORD I FORGOT SOMETHING IMPORTANT!!!" He lunges accross the bar, snatches up his bowl of snacks and starts munching. He does pause, however, and offer the bowl to Rystan. "Snackies?"
Rystan just... stares. "...Are you quite alright?" It takes a very crazy person to make Rystan concerned for their well being over their sanity. "... I'd say you didn't belong here, but... probably better Twisted than wherever you came from." Whatever that means. .oO( If you even THINK about contaminating the gene bank with his genes, I'll cut you out of my brain. ) *Duly noted, Aster.* .oO( I'M NOT KIDDING! ) *Ssshh. He is quite amusing.* .oO( ... If you say so.)
Freakazoid grins wickedly. "Oh yes, a little gassey, but I'm fine!" Leaping to his feet he gallantly poses like a bad wrestler. "OF COURSE I BELONG HERE, YOUNG LAD! This is the internet after all. Sure you might believe this is some alternate world called Twisted, but I KNOW THE TRUTH!!" He grabs Rystan forcebly by the neck and drags him into a headlock so he can whisper, "...the truth is your a character in a big game!" Letting go of Rystan and possibly sending he dropping to the floor, Freakazoid leaps back into his chair and takes a drink of his soda before his toys can opperate on it. "It's not even a good game really, you should try logging onto World of Warcraft or something. Text based games are soooo retro!"
Rystan gets shaken, and uses a large amount of self control to prevent himself from cutting freakazoid in half over it. Or trying to, at any rate. Somehow, he looks too rubbery to be cut in half. If that's even possible or sensical. "...All life's a game. But you're still insane." He takes a sip from his root beer, raising an eyebrow slowly. .oO( A text based game? How the hell would THAT work? Take turns reading a book? How exciting. ) *Some of us have higher aspirations than robbing women of their undergarments while they are wearing them, Aster.* .oO( JEWELRY! By Spira, I rob them of their JEWELRY, not their.... bah! ) *Got you, Aster.* .oO( Oh, you're asking for it. )
Freakazoid laughs, "Well of course I'm insane, that's in the theme music." Pulling out a microphone he starts to SING? "o/~Check out Dexter Douglaaass, nerd computer ace! When surfing on the internet he got zapped in cyber spaaaace! He turned into the Freakazoid! The strongest human freak! He drives the villans craaaazy, cause he's a loonaaaatic!" WIth a grin he tosses his microphone over his shoulder and leaps to his feet again. "But I swear to you, this is a game! I can drag some of the people that run the place in here if you want. You wanna meet a wizard, Dorithy?"
This only draws a slow, languid blink from Rystan, and he stares at Freakazoid. It seems to be his default reaction to 'nucking futs'. "...I know. And I /am/ a wizard." Well, he's a thief. But he's allowed delusions of grandeur. And to lie. A cutting sound fills the air, and suddenly he's on a stool on the OPPOSITE side of Freakazoid. "See?" ... Obviously Rystan doesn't grasp the basic concept of what Freakazoid's saying. But then, that only goes to show that Rystan is sane. . . . Mostly. .oO( Light him on fire for calling me Dorothy. ) * I do not have fire spells, Aster. * .oO( ... Please? )
-click click click- The familar sounds of boots on pavement is heard just outside the door before the lovely creature known as Joan enters the UR. Her long legs carrying her with a grace and a gentle sway that mocks of trained edicate. In her long fingers she holds a plain dirty white box. Over the edge of said box, pops the head of a mewling kitty. Awe she has a pet! Or at least the little boy yapping at her heels might be one, "I think he will be a good kitty." states the dirty street urchin of maybe 10. His hair mussed and matted for days on the streets selling what he can. "I would name him fluffy. Or blue eyes! He is my last one. Are you sure you want him?" but Joan presses on with a smile behind the bar and ignores the patrons. The box is placed down and she gentle picks the kitty up by the scruff of the neck with one hand, while poking the blender button on purrree with the other. .o0(Little dirty male. this should shatter him enough to make him play in traffic.) is she about to do that?? To a kitten?
Freakazoid rolls his eyes at Rystan. "Oh puh-leeze. I've been doing the random appearance thing far longer than you have. You wanna see REAL tallent?" Physicaly leaping over the bar he ducks out of site. Seconds later he pops back up wearing a navy blue suit. "TONIGHT on Unsolved Mysteries, the secrets of PARALLEL WORLDS!" While theme music seems to play out of nowhere, the Freak reaches under the counter and pulls out a small confused oriental boy who starts screaming and flailing. The boy cries out, "PLEASE! PUT ME BACK! FATHER WILL BE HOME SOON AND I HAVE CHORES TO DO!!" Feakazoid grins mischivously and guestures towards the child for Rystan. "See? America's number one Action Hero returns, and his name... is DOCTOR TRAN!!" The boy struggles in his grasp and tries to pry the blue-man's hand off of his collar. "I'M NOT A DOCTOR!!!" Freakazoid seems about to say something else when the sound of a blinder catches his attention. Throwing the 'doctor' away absently like a throwpillow he turns his attention to Joan. "Ooooooh! It's a pretty pretty fluffy muffin head kitty cat!!" He manages to yank the kitty away somehow and cuddle it in his arms. "Awwww, little cutesy wootsy puff-head!" Grinning in Joan's face he asks, "Where you gonna make this iddle bitty kitty some food? CAN I HAVE SOME TOO!?!?!?" The small boy, however, seems to be gone to whereever he was pulled in from...
Rystan just continues to stare. Joan was going to puree a kitten, and the crazy man stopped her. He's not sure which one of them was in the wrong. After all, too much cute must be punished by death. But at the same time... it was a kitten. "...Hi again, Joan." The last time he'd said hello to Joan, Rystan had vanished almost immediately afterwards. Sayuri wakes up at the most inconvenient times, lately. Not that he's complaining. She's got it far worse than he does. .oO( I'm not sure. Should I kill the blue guy or play nice with Joan? ) * You could kill Joan and play nice with the blue man.* .oO( Ugh.)
Joan Diggers's grip is loosened just as the kitten was being placed into the blender making the young boy that followed her in begin to weep. When the FREAK saves said kitten the young man cheers and woots. Slowly she turns around to face the freaky-one. A vien in her forehead throbs in irritation. " The itty bitty kitty was about to become FOOD. It's body would nurish the despare of the youth here as he watches the bones crunch, the guts become pulp as the body is devoured by this whirring blade ment for crushing ice." letting go of the button on the blender it halts in mid-whir. She is in a foul mood. maybe her time of the month eh? "And unless you wish to take it's place," she leans forward and tries to caress the side of the blue freaks face with her well manicured fingernail. "I suggest you give it back" she continues in a purr that is also a threat. Maybe she ignored Ry outright for ducking out last time. The jerk.
Freakazoid melts a little and goes googly eyed at Joan's touch, but he doesn't let go of the cat. "Y'know. That's sweet. Your really pretty, but.." His posture returns and he stomps his foot, "NO NO NO! Your not hurtting the kitty cat! That's mean! Your a meanie meanie poo head." Holding up the cat by the neck he looks into it's eyes, "See? Mister Snugglywumpus doesn't wanna be in the blinder, does he? Noooooo." The kitten responds of course, by latching onto his face and biting and clawing, seeming to turn into a small dust cloud of sharp pointy things that tears Freakazoid apart. Finally he yanks the cat off and hands it to the small boy that followed Joan in and tells him, with a country accent, "Now you take good care of him, John Boy. Don't let ma or pa know your stinky poo head friend was gunna kill him." He waves the second the cat is no longer in his grasp, "Goodbye, kitty! I'll always treasure these moments we spent together!!" Freakazoid turns away and wipes his eyes. "It's so hard when they grow up and leave the nest... *sniff* I said I wasn't going to cry..."
What else can he do but stare? Rystan is beginning to feel very out of place in this interaction, but shrugs it off. He's been in stranger situations. . . Well, ok, that's possibly a lie. He's been in much more uncomfortable situations. That much is true. "... The crazy but hot chick, or the even crazier but somewhat nice guy. Ah, choices, choices." He twirls the root beer bottle in his hands for a few moments, and cutting sounds fill the air. He seems to be thinking. "...Ordinarily, I'd have to go with Joan. Because she looks a lot better in that bodice than you look in anything, guy." Shrugging a little, Rystan is suddenly /right/ next to Joan after saying this, a small black dagger in his hand. "... But I guess I feel like a good guy for the next few moments. So let the kitty go, or the corset gets it, babe." He's grinning from ear to ear. Either he's just playing and won't do it, or it's in anticipation of doing something very ignoble. Since he said he's in a good guy mood, it's probably the former. Probably.
Joan Diggers's not effective against Freakazoid it seems or at least not in the way she wanted as the oddball gives the kitten back to the young boy. She is about to turn and reach for the boy as Rystan appears behind her. The turn can not be haulted and she feels the bite of a blade sliding into her torso right between her ribs and the flick of the tip puncturing her lungs at an odd angle. Her hand wavers a little as she looks from the fleeing boy and at Rystan in disbelief... "w...why?" she seems faint as crimsom coughs up and stains her thin lips. Look Freakazoid! Rystan just killed her. He is a bad guy!! Clutching faintly at the blood seeping from her leather bodice she slides back off the blade and falls to the ground on her knees gasping for air that wont enter her deflatting lungs. "h..h..help?" before thumping backwards and bleeding on the ground from her wounded side
Freakazoid, being the hero he is, turns pale at the sight and starts to gag. "EW! EWWWW!! With the BLOOD! And the stabbing!! Just EWW!!" Shuddering he starts to walk away making dismissive guestures with his hands. "I'm not gonna get the icky boo-boo juice on me! Nuh-uh. No way! No! I'm NOT gonna cave in like I did with the poo-gas. Nuh-uh." Two tiny Freakazoids appear on his shoulders dressed to represent his consience. The one dressed as an angel shakes his head. "Come on, Feakazoid. You can't just let her sit there! What if she dies? How's that going to look? Do you want to be the hero that lets people die?" Freakazoid lowers his head in shame, "No..." The devil Freakazoid smacks him and demands, "Two words. POO-GAS." Freakazoid screams, "THAT'S RIGHT! I'M NOT GONNA DO IT!" and vanishes in a electric blue flash.
Meanwhile accross Twisted, Freakazoid sits in the Pizza Cats Pizza Emporium snacking with his good friend Cosgrove. Freakazoid asks, "Hey, Cos? You think I did the right thing?" Cosgrove glares accross his double cheese and marshmellow pizza. "No. A good hero woulda done something." Freakazoid shakes his head, "But, but Cosgrove! ICKY BOO-BOO JUICE!" Cosgrove shakes his head back at him. "Yeah, but your suits red." Freakazoid looks down at himself, "Oooooh, yeah!" Scarffing down the pizza he vanishes in another electric blue flash.
Freakazoid bursts into the UR carrying a handful of bandages. "Ok! We gotta hurry and get her to the hospital!" He throws the bandages at Rystan with force. "NURSE! GET ME A STOOL SAMPLE!!"
Rystan's left eye twitches. "Nurse?" Nevermind the stool sample. That's just going too far. But Joan asked for help... and despite the fact that Rystan... really has met nicer evil people, he sighs and crouches down next to her, catching the bandages. He blinks for a moment. "... I don't know how to use these!" He throws them back at Freakazoid with an equal amount of force in which they were received, and places a hand on Joan's wound, provided he's able to. "...I'll be frank, Joan. I don't take kindly to people trying to get power over me. But I'm evil, and I assume you're evil, so let's let bygones be bygones. I'll heal you, and you'll not pretend to be incensed that I didn't stop you from impaling yourself. Deal?" While it sounds like a good deal, Rystan's healing magic is... healing magic. Probably not good for any undead types that may or may not happen to be lying on the floor bleeding right now. Hmm.
Joan Diggers's faint cough as she claws at the air before her, Rystan seeming to be background noise "gr..granma? I see light grandma..." but then two words do ring a little clear. Heal you. "w..wait what?" she turns a head as her paler skin seems to go paler. The wound spews blood with each breath through Rystan's fingers that might be a little too close for comfort to her.. ahems... "your a theif. what do you know of healing?" maybe this ploy was a bad idea. Freak is too dim witted to use to hurt Rystan. So she needs to change the mood.. She will try once more to get Freak to fight Rystan. With a scream "EEEK!!!" she attempts to slap Rystan in the face "pervert! touching an injured woman there!!" well the wound would be near her ahem.. breast.
Freakazoid has once more gone and pulled the poor asian child out of thin air and is pleading with him, "PLEASE! Your the best doctor I know that's still alive around here! The other guy got killed recently! C'mon! You've got to help!!" The kid screams, "I TOLD YOU ALREADY!! I'M -NOT- A DOCTOR!!" Turning towards the growing pool of blood, Dr Tran turns green. "I want to go home now!" Freakazoid growls and punts him into the distance. "And here I thought you where a REAL man." He spins around at the sound of screaming and looks on in surprise as Joan tries to slap Rystan. "Oh! HEY! She's feeling better already! Guess we didn't need those bandages after all!!" He bolts to the edge of the bar and looks down at her. "Can I get you a pillow or something??
"I know a couple of things. Where I come from, you don't survive much without being able to h--OW!" Getting ready to heal Joan, Rystan didn't expect her to SLAP HIM. He moves back a bit, blinking a few times. "... ... What the hell, Joan? Didn't you just ask for help?" He gets very irritated, and suddenly Freakazoid doesn't exist anymore to him. Of course, that's EASILY remedied with Freakazoid's crazy style of calling attention to himself by doing... just about anything. Rystan tucks his chin in a bit and glares at Joan for a moment. "I've already got a perfect woman, Joan, don't be so paranoid." Well, at least he didn't figure out why she REALLY slapped him. That's something.
Joan Diggers's already compressing the wound with a stray rag from the bar. The alcohol should make it safe right? "Well your the pervert trying to take advantage of a poor wounded girl. I dont even" she pauses to sniffle and dab at her eyes as she looks up at the black haired freak "your offer is kind dear sir. But I would much rather have someone teach this CAD" motioning her head to Rystan "A lesson" .o0(I will teach him to reject me! Perfect woman my fine white a..) She is in perfect health and at least no healing magics were sent her way. So.. now she is back to square one <.<
Freakazoid simply shrugs at her request, "OK!" He grabs Rystan and sits him on a barstool. With a Southern drawl he informs him, "I git to be tha teacher-man." Suddenly the Freak is dressed in a red-tinted mockery of a graduation robe and a simple pair of eyeglasses. Reaching somewhere out of sight he pulls in a large chalkboard with 'Frenching With Freakazoid' written on it. He grins happily, "I haven't done this in a while. This one's my favorite!" He turns and scribles on the chalkboard, and then reads it aloud very slowly and carefully. "Qui... a... coupe... le fromaaaaage...? Qui a coupe le fromaaaaaage? Who cut... tha cheeeeeeese? Who cut the cheeeeeeese? Qui a coupe le fromage." He grins, bows and zips over to kneal beside Joan. "So? How'd I do? Think I shoulda gone with a harder lesson?" She didn't really specify on that one, did she?
Rystan winces in pain at Freakazoid's reaction. .oO( This hurts my brain. ) * But he is ever so much fun. He's so slow, we could just eat Joan and he would never know. * .oO( I thought you liked Joan. ) * I do. She would make a lovely meal. * .oO( ... That's it, I'm giving you some appetite suppressant. ) Rystan stands and shakes his head, glad at least that Freakazoid didn't actually do something that would cause him any REAL problems. Besides an aneurysm, maybe. "... You know, Joan, you're tough to figure out." The thief closes his eyes for a moment, and then suddenly leans... or perhaps looms... over Joan for a moment, and lets his eyes slowly open, no pupils or irises visible. They're just pure white. "... What exactly is it that you want, anyways?"
Joan Diggers smiles up at him as sweetly as she possily can. Not phased in the least by his display "why Aster," she begins with a coo "Where would be the fun in that. If I told you... you wouldnt learn anything. As the imbicle displays he is driven by slap stick and third rate comedy antics. If I asked him to hit you with a pie" she looks slightly aside at Freakazoid and continues "I would assume he would pull out a ewe and hit it with a math problem. Or ask it to baa pie to the nearest desimal point." with a sigh she shakes her head and brushes off Freaks question. No it wasnt what she wanted... but she is older then she looks and knows a comedy routine when she sees it. "no no dear Rystan. My secretes are my own. I am a lot less sweet then I seem. And now that I found a place of power. I am a lot more dangerous when I want to be." except around Freak. he has a bad habit or deverting major wrong doing.
Freakazoid frowns heavily at his over simplification, stands and sulks. "Hey now... I'm not that bad. I have a serious side y'know. I have feelings. I hurt." He sulks his way over to a nearby barstool and plops down heavily. "Excuse me for trying to bring some enjoyment to everyone's days. Excuse me for trying to have fun." He snatches up a random drink off the bar and starts guzzling it down. "Nobody cares when Freakazoid is having a bad day. No one tries to chear up ME." He looks up and smirks, "Ok, except for Cosgrove." WIth a deep sigh he resumes his pitty-play. "FINE. Just have your laughs at my expense. I just wanted to help, but you had to go and act like some kind of spoiled princess..." He stands and yells over the bar at Joan, "WELL EXCUUUUUUUUUSE ME, PRINCESS!!"
Rystan's eyes return to normal in a slow fade, and he stares at Joan for a moment. "... Don't you know anything about men, Joan?" He shakes his head and grins before walking over towards his seat. "... They don't like effort." He takes his seat and shakes his head. "Not worth trying to figure you out. I've offered to help you many times, but you just won't give an inch." As it turns out, he's sitting next to freakazoid now. "She really is spoiled, isn't she? Good call, crazy guy."
Joan Diggers's shrug and light chuckle at the statements are if to indicate such things arent a bother to her "your actually not too far off. Think more... queen." the pool of blood under her begins to turn black and like quick sand she begins to sink into it "Feelings are tools. You MEN are creatures of habit. The baser instincts of a far gone era. Aster, you should let the plant have your body. She has more personality anyway." her fading body is to the torso as she continues to speak long winded like in a villinous voice. "If it wasnt for how cute you were. I think I would have broken your hands by now. A theif with out his hands is the cruelest fate if the stories are true..." now all remains is her head. Smiling like the chesire cat "And blue one. You really need to teach that man a lesson. He murdered a bar tender here. Teach him a good one this time ok?" then she vanishes with a dimensional POP
Freakazoid turns and stares at Rystan as cross as he can possibly look. "YOU DID WHAT??? HOW DARE YOU!?!?!?" Pause. Suddenly his attitude changes and he's grinning, "Oooh, oooh. How'd you do it? Did you use the candlestick in the library??" He suddenly thrashes his feet and smacks the bar, "Darn it! I always get that one wrong!!" He turns and slaps a pair of handcuffs on Rystan. Wait, where'd he get the handcuffs? ...or the police uniform? "THAT'S IT! Your coming with me, young man. Your not going outside for the rest of the week! That'll teach you to pick on poor NPCs." Somehow he's slipped the other end of the handcuff onto Rystan's barstool. "It's not their fault, you know. That no one wants to play them, I mean. There was that one guy who played the little cute red-haired one? Eh, but he got all burnt out on her because he never had anything to do with the character." He leans in and elbows Rystan in the ribs. "She's locked up in her house right now, but there's no log explaining why." Freakazoid stands and grabs the sides of his head, "WHY? WHY CAN'T THERE BE A LOG?? Does the head wiz think he's above the people that play here?? WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO????" Throwing his hands up into the air, the Freak slowly walks out the door pretending to fly making 'WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH' noises.
Rystan blinks slowly, watching the events unfold. Joan's blood turned black. Hmm. As she sinks into the pool of blood, he narrows his eyes. "I pity you, Joan, who understands nothing." Her head disappears and he sighs. "They never get it." .oO( Cute. Feh. Because mass murderers are cute. Stupid S&M Queen... ) *I think you are cute, Aster.* .oO( ... and? ) *...So cold...* .oO( Be quiet. ) Letting his breath come out of him, Rystan turns to look tiredly at Freakazoid. "What are you talking abou--*ka-chink!* ....about?" Freakazoid whooshes out of the bar, and it takes a moment to process what just happened. ". . . . . . . ." -- Outside the usual, business is disrupted, cats are scared out of their minds, and cute women nearby shiver with a suddent draft, as the words tear themselves out of the UR as if powered by a 1.21 gigawatt Megaphone. *"WHAT THE HELL?!?!??*"
Somewhere there is a woman cackling madly with the need for holding a city in her grip of fear. Somewhere, there is a pointy haired idiot 'whooshing' around while running. Somewhere, there is a plant, yelling at it's host for not feeding her as he uncuffs himself as theives would. that somewhere, is only one place. And it surely is Twisted.
And somewhere, poor Casey has struck out.