Order and Chaos

Smack the notes onto the floor. We're going off-script

Shove her out of the way of the invisible antagonist

Punch the empty space.

Smack the notes onto the floor. We're going off-script

Mary smacked the notes out of Lauren's hands and onto the floor. "Aſ a matter of fact, I am Malcolm'ſ daughter. Now, you tell me what iſ going on here while Commun here pickſ up your noteſ."

"What? Why do I have to —?"

"ſilence!"

Commun grumbled and got down on all two of his knees to pick up the scattered notes. Lauren practically growled at Mary. "Where's your nosepaint, princess?"

"Oh, for the love of — Do you know of any other white-haired young black women?"

Lauren thought for a second. "I don't have time for this nonsense!" She sashayed away.

"Walk and talk," whispered Commun, who then dropped the notes back on the floor and hustled up alongside Lauren. "Now Ms. Order, be reasonable! We'd just like to know where Nothing is!"

"Oh, a little over here, a little over there," said Lauren. "Everywhere there's something there's nothing, if you look hard enough. Please look hard enough somewhere that's not here.

They rounded a corner, where Herman Cain was standing over the corpse of the real Remdat, declaring that he wasn't killing him again. Mary yanked on Lauren's arm. "ſtop playing clever with your big wordſ mouth wordſ wordſ mouth clever tongue teeth wordſ iceberg!"

"Leave me alone, you maniacs!" yelled Lauren, trying and failing to extricate herself from Mary's grip. "I have to solve the murder I know everything about!" She turned to empty space. "Keep your trap shut! I don't need another uninvited guest getting in my way! You can't even be a suspect, you're only in one castle."

Mary groaned. "You're impoſſible." She suddenly let go and struck Lauren across the jaw with a mean left hook!

"What the fuck, woman?!" screamed Commun.

"Apologieſ," said Mary, dusting herself off. "I think I have been quite ſtreſſed recently, more than I've noticed."

"Oh, you hardly let it on," said Commun, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Shove her out of the way of the invisible antagonist

Then Lauren, who had been staggering in place, seemingly threw herself against the wall and collapsed in a heap.

"What waſ that?"

"Something shoved her!"

"No... NOTHING ſhoved her!"

"I'm Herman Cain!"

Punch the empty space.

And so, Mary and Commun fought Grub. It was a brutal, bloody bout, and nobody could lay a finger on their opponent, likely because they were about half a mile away and completely oblivious of their opponent's existence. Still, they fought, and fought hard.

"Yeah, take that, air!" said Milton, the real Milton, who was wandering around over in the pizza castle. He jumped in on Grub's team with gusto. He had no counterpart in the real castle. Herman Cain continued to be a neutral party, smiling, standing, and waving to an audience that didn't exist in either castle.

Video, surreptitiously surveying the carnage from his underground layer, rubbed his temples. What could he possibly do to break up this impossible fight?

Release the bees

Broker peace by destroying both sides.

Broker peace by destroying both sides.

I was tired of this interruption. It was spoiling the illusion of the two identical castles. I was not about to go scouring the globe for yet more lookalikes, especially for the celest. Few actors can adequately portray one.

Even Milton, my patron, was unnecessary at this point. Having given up all interest in the throne, he was simply a wealthy fool, and I had claimed a good portion of his wealth.

Besides, both heirs were within my grasp now. If I were to eliminate them both, it would cause a crisis of succession; one which I could surely turn to my advantage.

The only question was which of the many elaborate mechanisms at my disposal I would turn against them.

Release the bees

That's when I hit the button to call my beekeeper and his lookalike.

"I have a new script for you," I said.

"OW!" both beekeepers screamed. "Video, I appreciate the salary and all, but I thought beekeeping involved protective equipment. Not just being covered in bees all the time."

"Art requires suffering," I said. "In this case, yours. And in the name of art, I require you to pass that suffering along to others. There are two interlopers in each castle, with no counterparts in the other. Destroy them. Oh, and the Duke of Remdat in the pizza castle has not succumbed to death's embrace yet, so take care of that inconsistency while you're at it."

"What about the bees, though?" they asked.

I didn't bother answering. I knew they wouldn't understand.

Really, this entire matter with the castles was a mere distraction at this point. Thanks to Milton's impulsiveness, I now had more than enough money to begin directing resources towards my master plan.

Which was, of course...

A wood-based economy

A wood-based economy

I had begun shoveling the funds into my own, wood-based enterprises. Carpentry! Wood-fired engines and stoves! Logging! I was even making a killing on planting, don't even ask me how, ask my accountants.

"What's your endgame, you madman?!" they would cry as I squashed their kingdom like an ant under my heel.

"A smart investment portfolio," I would smirk, fire alighting my eyes.

A grand plan. Or it would have been, were I not dead, lying face-down in a muddy swamp creek with my neck broken. But then, I didn't know that. What I did know was that the beekeeper was going to die. After all, Mary was immortal now, with quite incredible healing powers, which put a considerable damper on any plans to kill her and take her place or otherwise threaten her. I pouted and stuck my hands in my arm pits and growled. Not fair! Not fair!

But I had fancy plans, and pants to match. The bees were only a distraction, and the REAL plan was...

A mission to mars

A mission to mars

It was very simple. For I knew what few others on this world did.

Ages ago, long before our pantheon expanded into its recent state of unwieldiness, we were governed by an entirely different set of gods.

At some point, they simply left. Mankind floundered in an age of godlessness for centuries, before overcompensating and producing more gods than it knew what to do with.

But I alone knew where they were. They had left to other worlds. Worlds which bore their names.

And I would bring them back. Beginning with Mars, the God of War, who would easily crush the dozen or so gods who remained after Malcolm's purge. His world was the closest to our own, anyhow. Once he returned, the others would take notice, and at last the ancient pantheon could be restored. The world would be returned to the way it always should have been.

Even as I reiterated my ingenious plan to myself, though, I felt there was something missing in it. As though I had some other plan I was forgetting about that it would interfere with.

But that was ridiculous. Video Kojima's plans are a work of art, as is everything he does. He would never forget any of his beautiful creations.

Nothing could make him forget what he had created.

---

So just when I had dealt the finishing blow (I suspected) to my absent opponents, a man covered in bees appeared in the corridor, screaming.

"Help!" he shouted. "I'm covered in bees! Also, I have to kill you!"

"Well, that could be a problem, seeing as I can't be killed," I replied.

"Oh," he said. Then he paused. "Well, I can still kill the rest of you! That should make Video happy, right?"

Well. I didn't really want Commun to die, so it seemed it was time to take action.

What was it I did, again?

got the bee-man to chill out with some soothing tunes

got the bee-man to chill out with some soothing tunes

Of course! "Milton!" I hollered. "Lend me your ſaxophone!"

"Sure thing, sister who's not even in the same building as me!" he said as he handed me his saxophone. I laid the horn to my lips and pursed out the smoothest licks.

"Oh, that's quite nice," said the unnamed bee-man. I squaked. "Wait, I'm allergic to bees! The agony!" He died.

"But what about the other beekeeper?" said Commun.

"What other beekeeper?" said Grub.

"Mary, your liſp is ſucking stupid," said Milton.

"Well, you're the expert on that," I sniped to empty air.

"We need a leader, not a reader!" cried Herman Cain emphatically.

"Oh, shut up, Herman Cain," groaned both Communs.

"Did we get rid of Nothing?" asked Lauren Order. "As my well-established character establishment established, that is established as my #1 priority. Also, I'm supposed to be knocked out cold!" She slammed grabbed her own head (the one in the other castle) and slammed it into the wall and vice versa then fell out cold.

"Well, we really just need to have a talk with it, remember," said Commun.

"Are we really on-board with that plan?" I said. "Like, 100%? I'm immortal aſ fuck and ready to throw DOWN."

"That's for you to decide!" said Milton, to you, the reader.

"It's probably the only way to actually get Adeline back," said Commun.

"But also Sir Nose," said nobody in particular.

"We're juſt going to have to accept that dent," I said.

"Wait, where do I fit into all of this?" said Grub. He doesn't. That's the risk you take when you literally walk 180 degrees away from the plot.

"In the meantime, I guess I should tell Mom I'm home?" I said. And tell her Dad's dead. And get crowned queen.

"Hey speaking of is this old wrinkly naked dude your new husband?" said Milton.

"What? No. Gods no! What?!" said Commun.

Milton laughed. "You act like marrying a princess is a step DOWN." I must reiterate, they're still all in separate castles.

"ſhit," I cursed. "Definitely gotta find Nothing firſt and foremoſt, straighten that out." Or rather, exactly the opposite.

But wait! There was one spare loose end to come roaring back from way the fuck back in the adventure everyone forgot about! Even me, Chwoka! What was it, again?

> open computer, begin composing disappointed letter to angry birds founder Mikael Hed

the loose end was that i, dalm, forgot about this until you reminded me the other night.

>A Ginormant Bird. Mister, such largeness could only be captured with a fresh word.

Show Content

Spoiler

hell, i'd like to see what it would look like if someone suggested for order and chaos having read none of the posts, including the most recent one
you know what i'm just gonna link right to the reply window here so somebody doesn't even have to glance at the text of the thread to suggest https://eagle-time.org/newreply.php?tid=1147
it'll be dragonfogel's problem anyway. keep him on his toes, folks

Punch him. Right in the face.

>A Ginormant Bird. Mister, such largeness could only be captured with a fresh word.

Of course! There was a bird of such immense size that a new word had to be invented to describe its sheer scale! It had been... sealed away by the gods? And maintaining the seal had been overlooked in De's reorganization of everything? And...

No, wait. There was no bird. That was very disappointing to me, Video Kojima, because I would have very much liked to use it for one of my elaborate games. Or as part of my plan to bring the old pantheon back.

But! As a genius, I surely had a way to make it true, didn't I? All I had to do was...

> open computer, begin composing disappointed letter to angry birds founder Mikael Hed

...contact whoever in charge of birds. No doubt that was a deity. Of course, I, Sir Nose, being a celest, had a high level of expertise on deities, and so I knew that the current God of Birds was Mikael Hed. Using this device that I, Video Kojima, had created, I prepared writing a letter to convey my disappointment that he had not created such an impossibly large bird.

Once I wrote it, however, I realized that I needed to actually deliver it to the god. And the best way to do that was...

Punch him. Right in the face.

To punch him in the face. Because I, Richard Doomcall, intended to be the next Malcolm Vindictus, and so I knew that force was the best way to get my message across. Especially to a god, which I could easily access because I, Sir Nose, was a celest and could therefore request his presence at any moment.

So I did, and before he finished asking "What do you want, Nose, I'm busy," I punched him in the face. Then I, Video Kojima, handed him the carefully-constructed letter in which I explained my grievances with the lack of a sufficiently ginormant bird.

None of those, of course, were the loose end I, Chwoka, was referring to. However, it is crucial to understand that, with so few gods, Mikael Hed was also the god of the boundary between dreams and waking. And the powerful punch of myself, Richard Doomcall, was strong enough to knock Mikael Hed unconscious.

And when the god who governs the boundary between dreams and waking himself looses his grasp of wakefulness, well, there are certain consequences. Namely, that dreams may begin to come true.

Which brings us to the loose end I, Chwoka, mentioned earlier, and in fact was responsible for in the first place.

That's when I realized I was being followed.

"Who are you?" I shouted. "Show yourself!"

Oh ho ho ho, but how can I who am I and show myself when I'm not?

So I wasn't show yourself... I was being tailed by a Nothing! And also was! I must have been marked for death... I thought quickly, assessing my surroundings. I roundhouse kicked one of the wheels of the Great Cosmic Dumpster and then ran! The wheel came flying off and then also crushed and killed the Nothing, along with all the metaphorical, mystical, and symbolic constructs in the universe, which was bound to have repurcussions.

In short: all the metaphorical, mystical, and symbolic constructs in the universe had suddenly been killed. I also realized in that moment that I was the Nothing, and I too would perish unless I did something to prevent the encroaching dream-world's influence upon me.

And that's when I...

> built a shelter of legends, created

> built a shelter of legends, created

I thought quickly. "Hey!" I cried, to anyone around. "Help me tip this dumpster over so we can crawl inside its artificial womb!"

But the dumpster was gone too, and so was anybody that could help me. Including me. Malcolm Vindictus would have been quite glad, except the afterlife was gone too. Whoops! Really screwed the dog shit on this one!

---

Mary limped around the corner, shoulder-checking Herman Cain.

"Oh, hey Mary. I was just talking to you in the other castle. What brings you 'round here?" said Milton. "You don't look very round. Matter of fact, you look like dog shit. What happened to your eye?"

"Oh, this," Mary said, then she pulled out a gun and shot herself in the right eye and collapsed to the ground, screaming and blind.

"That adds up," said Milton. "That checks out. What's a gun, by the way?"

"This," said Mary, then shot Milton in the gut.

"Yeah, yeah, this makes sense," said Milton. "I can see, how this would hurt you badly."

"I can't see anything now!" said Mary.

"Hey, what happened to my good pal Grub who I never got the name of?" said Milton.

Herman Cain stopped smiling and sniffed the air with a concerned look on his face.

"What? What is it boy?" said Milton.

"They're gone," he said. "All the metaphorical, mystical, and symbolic constructs in the universe — they're all crushed under the weight of the Great Cosmic Dumpster."

"Wow, I guess it's true what they say about blind people and heightened senses!" said Milton. Mary screamed in agony, rolling around the floor and bleeding everywhere.

Mary tapped Herman Cain on the shoulder. "You know anything about an area Nothing?"

"They're gone," he said. "All the metaphorical, mystical, and symbolic constructs in the universe — they're all crushed under the weight of the Great Cosmic Dumpster."

"Well, ſhit. Now how am I going to bring Adeline back to life? We had it all ſorted out to a happy ending even!"

"Guess you'll just have to deal with your grief and carry on like a normal person?" shrugged Commun.

"No. I am a queen. The ruleſ do not and ſhould not apply to me and this is all, frankly, very unacceptable," said Mary. "I'm ſpecial! And powerful, and immortal, and cool! I get my way! It'ſ not fair! It'ſ not fair to have her taken away by ſome magic bullſhit that juſt goeſ away! It'ſ not fair! It'ſ not fair! I don't wanna marry whatever lame dude Mom picked out! It'ſ not fair! I won't ſtand for it!"

The queen was throwing a temper tantrum. How could Commun calm 'em down?

maybe it's not so bad for the large universal constructions to be gone tbh

maybe it's not so bad for the large universal constructions to be gone tbh

"Is it really that much of a problem that we've removed metaphorical, mystical, and symbolic constructs from the universe?" I asked. "I mean, what did we really gain from having an actual old man who represented winter? It's not as if we could ever negotiate with him for less harsh winters, he just took that as an insult."

"I think Mr. Commun Marx has a point," said Herman Cain, President of the United States. "And just look at the bright side! We're living in a world where dreams and reality intersect, so I can finally be President and I didn't even have to win an election to do it."

"Wait," Mary said suddenly. "So does that mean, if I dream of being reunited with Adeline..."

There was a long and awkward pause during which Mary failed to be reunited with Adeline.

"This is no fair at all!"

"Um," I said finally. "I think the issue with your dream is, since Adeline isn't actually alive, any Adeline you could encounter would be a mystical construct. Which, erm, have all been killed."

That's when Mary shot me, and I realized I had done an absolutely horrible job of calming her down.

"Commun. We are going to fix this."

"But how? Fixing this kind of mess would be the domain of the god of dreams, and seeing as all gods are metaphorical, mystical, or symbolic constructs, well, I think you see the issue we're in."

"Wait, all gods?" Milton asked from the other castle. "What about mortals who ascend and become deities?"

"There used to be some, but Malcolm killed them all. Every one of the surviving deities was a construct. And everything I'm aware of that could potentially grant a mortal deific powers was, as well. So we're stuck. Unless some mortal attained godhood after the war without ever telling us, which is such a ridiculous scenario that I can't even imagine it."

Mary shot me again when I finished explaining that. I was really doing an awful job of calming her down.

"As President of the United States, I really don't appreciate you plotting ways to take the presidency away from me," Herman Cain interjected. "Even if you don't have any hope of doing it."

"Well tough," Mary shot back, both verbally and with her gun. "You're in Vendet, not your United State or whatever, and that means I'm in charge."

"Technically, Mother is," Milton said. Mary shot him, too. Maybe it would have been a good idea to get that gun away from her somehow.

---

Meanwhile, as Mary was causing an international incident, I, Milton Felus, was becoming aware that I was now the god of everything, because all the other gods, being metaphorical, mystical, or symbolic constructs, had been crushed by a cosmic dumpster.

But I was just a cat, so I had been unaffected, other than suddenly taking on every single responsibility in the entire universe.

Which meant that it was up to me to fix this whole mess with dreams creeping into reality. So what was I going to do about it?

Take a nap and see what happens.

Semi-flatten dream reality.

Semi-flatten dream reality.

I figured the first thing to do was to sort out the real from the fake like it were recycling night. Luckily, the dream elements were transparent. Metaphorically, meaning obvious, not literally ghostly. Clowns that actually were balloons? Bears that were a metaphor for your father's love? Hank? Having singled them out, I decided the quickest way to sort them out was to make everybody's dreams come true! Godhood is so easy.

Take a nap and see what happens.

Well, I've certainly pulled my fair share of the weight today. I am so tuckered out! Nothing like a good old... cat nap...

WORLD OVER

WHAT NOW

make anti-world