Chapter 2: Perchance To Scheme

The Semi-Secret Organization for Stealing Stuff (SSOSS) meeting had just come to order on the planet Narquon VII, where they had moved it from the BB-GEIS due to too many interruptions by semi-well-known interstellar heroes attempting to save one captured princess or the other. As a result, they left their imposing, much-feared facade afforded them by the BB-GEIS for a slightly more disreputable one. You see, Narquon VII is well known for being disreputable, if nothing else. Actually, so few people remember exactly why it's disreputable anymore that it doesn't matter; however, from the SSOSS' point of view, a disreputable facade is better than none at all, or, even worse, the happy, fuzzy facade they would receive if they were based in the famous Valley of Duckies and Bunnies.

The leader, founder, chairman, treasurer, big cheese, head honcho, and most disreputable member of the SSOSS was Jip Kipper, an annoying, balding, medal-covered Imperious Galaxial Order for Order and Chaos officer that wrote really bad poetry in his spare time. The other members of the SSOSS didn't know this, however; to them, he was simply Dark Lurking Guy, the evil Dark Lord of the Silt, and theoretically the most feared black-cape-wearing evil desperado this side of Dark Helmet. Dark Lurking Guy, in real life, other than being quite a bit on the waddling tubby side, couldn't lurk to save his life, was fearsome nonetheless-for some reason, he had the uncanny ability to produce nearly-infinite numbers of Imperious Galaxial Order for Order and Chaos medals that he would then throw at people to greatly annoy them. If he didn't come up with better schemes than everyone else in the SSOSS, however, they would have ousted him long ago.

The SSOSS is made up of twenty-seven thieves, gamblers, and other generally disreputable people, that, aside from being very good at whatever it is they do, are completely and totally uncreative to the point of having to listen to the horrible-poetry-reciting Dark Lurking Guy for ideas. Sure, he came up with some harebrained schemes that occasionally worked, but he was still one of the worst men for the job. While most of his schemes almost work, they're almost always foiled horribly by some random event, such as a miscalculation regarding the end of the universe or a fruitfly landing on the lens of a gigantic telescopic laser array. But, he's their leader, they listen to him, and they DO usually succeed in annoying the local law enforcement a bit.

"Let us bring this meeting of the Semi-Secret Organization for Stealing Stuff to order..." began Dark Lurking Guy, initiating the meeting for the third time in two minutes, but he was interrupted by Number 9. They didn't use their real names, as that could incriminate them as private citizens, so they used numbers instead-many had forgotten their original names anyway. The rest that had not forgotten their names had introduced themselves as numbers to protect their names and had been instantly been arrested by the local law enforcement officers when the cops realized that nobody but an SSOSS officer or a Borg drone would introduce themselves as a number in the first place.

"Sir, should we actually begin the meeting now?" asked Number 9.

"That's what I'm doing, Number 9." replied Dark Lurking Guy.

"What he's trying to say, sir, is that we should stop starting the start of the meeting, which you are now doing for the third time, and begin to start stopping the starting of the start of the meeting, in order to start the middle of the meeting where you tell us your latest idea and we figure out how to carry it out, thus ending the start of the middle of the meeting as well as the end of the middle so that we may then end the meeting, beginning, middle, and end, all in the reasonably foreseeable future." said Number 12 in one breath. After that, he immediately passed out and was carried away from the room by two medical droids kept on hand for just such a hyperventilatory emergency.

Originally, there were eighty-one members of the SSOSS, but every operative whose number was not a multiple of three had already been arrested after introducing himself as his number instead of his name, which he actually remembered and wanted to hide. Meanwhile, the remaining third of the organization, which had forgotten their original names, simply refrained from introducing themselves at all, and did not get arrested for the same reasons their cohorts did.

"Ah, I see." replied Dark Lurking Guy. "In that case, let us bring this meeting of the Semi-Secret Organization..."

"Sir, with all due respect..." began Number 27.

"Yes?"

"Sir... WOULD YOU KINDLY GET TO THE POINT!?!!"

"Oh, very well then. The purpose of this meeting of the Semi..."

"WE KNOW WHO WE ARE!!! WHAT IS YOUR LATEST PLAN?!" screamed Number 27 indignantly. Dark Lurking guy, in response, cleared his throat.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Number 27?"

"Oh, right. SIR!!!!"

"Thank you. That's much better, Number 27. As you know, as a member of the Semi-Secret Organization for Stealing Stuff, you must always call me 'sir,' especially when yelling at me to end the beginning of the meeting and begin the middle of the meeting so that we may eventually end the middle of the meeting and subsequently end the end."

"But if we end the end without beginning the end of the meeting, don't we skip a step?" asked Number 18, confused.

"Must we go over this again?" said Dark Lurking Guy resignedly. "We can't begin the end, because the end is the definitive point where everything stops and we all go home to hopefully not introduce ourselves and get arrested. If we began the end, everything would end except the end, including the end, and the end would have ended in the beginning of the end and we couldn't end it." Dark Lurking Guy opened his mouth once again as if to continue, but, noticing Numbers 3, 21, and 36 banging their heads on the table, decided to tell them of his newest plan before they'd beaten out too many brain cells. "All right. We'll begin the middle of the meeting.

"My latest plan is to take over the four worlds of the Bob system." Dark Lurking Guy explained. "The Bob system, as you know, was named because a man named Bob discovered it and nobody could figure out his last name or come up with a reasonable Latin alternative when it really came down to it. Therefore, it is the perfect target, because the intergalactic police forces think it a joke and care very little about it, if any at all.

"Now is our time to strike. If we can capture the leaders of the four planets, all conspicuously named King Bob, we can either hold them for ransom or simply take over the planets by placing ourselves on the thrones of Bob. Throne of Bobs. Thrones of Bobs. Throne of Bob. Uh... er..."

"We get the idea, sir." said Number 18. All we have to do is capture them, right?"

"Did I say that we needed to capture them?" asked Dark Lurking Guy.

"Um... I believe so..."

"Let's review the tape." Said Dark Lurking Guy, to the dismay of everyone in the room, especially Number 18, who was at fault for this particular tape review. Dark Lurking Guy loved to hear himself speak, or to hear a tape of himself speaking, or to see himself speaking by whatever means necessary. He always made it a point to review the tapes they had to record of him speaking at every meeting; Number 18 had simply given him an excuse other than the 'post-meeting recap.' "All right, here we are."

"...Sir, should we actually begin the meeting now?" asked Number 9 on the tape.

"That's what I'm doing, Number 9." replied Dark Lurking Guy's voice.

"What he's trying to say, sir, is that we should stop starting the start of the meeting, which you are now doing for the third time, and begin to start stopping the starting of the start of the meeting, in order to start the middle of the meeting where you tell us your latest idea and we figure out how to carry it out, thus ending the start of the middle of the meeting as well as the end of the middle so that we may then end the meeting, beginning, middle, and end, all in the reasonably foreseeable future." came the voice of Number 12 in one breath, followed by a thump as he passed out and the odd hums of the medical robots as they carried him out.

"Ah, I see." replied Dark Lurking Guy's voice. "In that case, let us bring this meeting of the Semi-Secret Organization..."

"Sir, with all due respect..." began Number 27 on the tape.

"Yes?"

"Sir... WOULD YOU KINDLY GET TO THE POINT!?!!"

"Oh, very well then. The purpose of this meeting of the Semi..."

"WE KNOW WHO WE ARE!!! WHAT IS YOUR LATEST PLAN?!" screamed the voice of Number 27. Dark Lurking Guy was heard to clear his throat.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Number 27?"

"Oh, right. SIR!!!!"

"Thank you. That's much better, Number 27. As you know, as a member of the Semi-Secret Organization for Stealing Stuff, you must always call me 'sir,' especially when yelling at me to end the beginning of the meeting and begin the middle of the meeting so that we may eventually end the middle of the meeting and subsequently end the end."

"But if we end the end without beginning the end of the meeting, don't we skip a step?" asked the confused voice of Number 18.

Reaching over and pausing the tape, Number 3 interjected, "Sir, do we REALLY need to listen to this?"

"Why, yes, Number 3," replied Dark Lurking Guy. "You see, Number 18, as we're about to hear on the tape, became confused. We need to rectify the situation." Dark Lurking Guy rewound the tape and started it once more.

"...member of the Semi-Secret Organization for Stealing Stuff, you must always call me 'sir,' especially when yelling at me to end the beginning of the meeting and begin the middle of the meeting so that we may eventually end the middle of the meeting and subsequently end the end." said the voice of Dark Lurking Guy for the third time.

"But if we end the end without beginning the end of the meeting, don't we skip a step?" came a tinny, confused version of Number 18's voice, also for the third time.

"Must we go over this again?" said Dark Lurking Guy's voice resignedly. "We can't begin the end, because the end is the definitive point where everything stops and we all go home to hopefully not introduce ourselves and get arrested. If we began the end, everything would end except the end, including the end, and the end would have ended in the beginning of the end and we couldn't end it." Three heads were heard beating against the table, and the annoying nasal voice of Dark L

urking Guy continued. "All right. We'll begin the middle of the meeting. "My latest plan is to take over the four worlds of the Bob system." Dark Lurking Guy explained. "The Bob system, as you know, was named because a man named Bob discovered it and nobody could figure out his last name or come up with a reasonable Latin alternative when it really came down to it. Therefore, it is the perfect target, because the intergalactic police forces think it a joke and care very little about it, if any at all.

"Now is our time to strike. If we can capture the leaders of the four planets, all conspicuously named King Bob, we can either hold them for ransom or simply take over the planets by placing ourselves on the thrones of Bob. Throne of Bobs. Thrones of Bobs. Throne of Bob. Uh... er..."

"We get the idea, sir." said Number 18's voice on the tape.

"We get the idea, sir." Said Number 18 in real life, as Number 3 stopped the tape again.

"Shall we get to it, then?" asked Dark Lurking Guy, noticing that Number 3 had also taken the tape recorder away from him, in hopes of preventing him from repeating himself repeatedly, as he usually did.

"Yes, sir, that sounds like a good idea." replied Number 18. "Now, let's begin the end of the meeting."

"No, we can't do that!" exclaimed Dark Lurking Guy, grabbing the tape recorder from the hand of the newly horrified Number 3, who had just realized what Number 18 had done once again-given Dark Lurking Guy the chance to repeat himself on tape once again. Rewinding the tape, Dark Lurking Guy started it again.

"...call me 'sir,' especially when yelling at me to end the beginning of the meeting and begin the middle of the meeting so that we may eventually end the middle of the meeting and subsequently end the end." said the voice of Dark Lurking Guy for the fourth time.

"But if we end the end without beginning the end of the meeting, don't we skip a step?" came a tinny, confused version of Number 18's voice again, again.

"Must we go over this again?" said the voice of Dark Lurking Guy resignedly for the fourth time. "We can't begin the end, because the end is the definitive point where everything stops and we all go home to hopefully not introduce ourselves and get arrested. If we began the end, everything would end except the end, including the end, and the end would have ended in the beginning of the end and we couldn't end it." Three heads were beaten on the table, both on the tape and in real life, and Number 3 stopped the tape again.

"Thank you sir, we get the idea." said Number 3.

"Oh, you're quite welcome."

"Don't worry about it. My 8-Minute Abs machine uses a series of simple movements to strengthen the abdominal muscle group and is easily re-molded into a carbon filament rope that is harder to forget when tied around one's left foot." replied the Hunter.

"Er... okay." replied the princess. "So that's why they call you the Insane Space Hunter."

The Hunter and Elsa were actually on their way to Camp Grenada, the planet on which the fuel company Fill Up, Pay Up, and Get Out, for whom the Hunter was test-flying a load of Tibanna gas across the galaxy was based. Once there, the Hunter could complete his job, get paid, and do something else for a while.

Little did they know, Camp Grenada was a planet in the Bob system (that much they knew), and the Semi-Secret Organization for Stealing Stuff was about to try to take it over (that much they DIDN'T know).

"Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada, this is the Quest of Insanity, requesting docking privileges at the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada. Over." broadcast the Hunter over the comm line he'd opened (equally verbosely) with the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada. You see, the Camp Grenadans, though greedy, are very unfriendly. Therefore, they have many silly, incongruous regulations (such as mentioning the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada by its full name every time you reference to it), just to annoy people and to keep them away from their planet. The only time they're even relatively friendly is where the business of their galaxy-spanning chain of fuel stations, Fill Up, Pay Up, and Get Out, is concerned. And, even just looking at it's name, you can tell that it's not friendly either.

"Quest of Insanity, this is the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility, granting you docking privileges at the... oh, dear." replied the dock officer in charge of maintaining traffic through the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada. Unfortunately, as he'd just failed to mention the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada by its full name... well... his job had been terminated within six words.

"Quest of Insanity, this is the Prestigious Port President of the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada, apologizing for the delay in bestowment of docking privileges at the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada. We have strict guidelines here at the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada, and the dock officer in charge of maintaining traffic through the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada has violated one and his job has been terminated. You are now granted docking privileges at the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada. This means that you have the privilege to dock at the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada now. Over." came the voice of the Prestigious Port President of the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada.

"Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada, this is the Quest of Insanity, thanking you for your gracious bestowment of Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada docking privileges at the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada. Quest of Insanity out." replied the Hunter.

"Where'd you learn to interface with them like that? That was ridiculous!" said the princess, utterly confused following the incredibly verbose exchange between the Hunter and the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada.

"Oh, I dunno. I guess ridiculous, verbose communication with people such as those individuals that run the Camp Grenada Ship Docking Facility of Camp Grenadan Orbit, Camp Grenada comes naturally to a relatively insane cyborg like me." replied the Hunter.

"Oh."

This one had GREEN-clad blast troopers (as if their combat armor had turned green after being exposed to too much bilge water).

"Hey, cool, more off-color duds!" said the Hunter, interested in expanding his wall of oddly-colored pieces of shoulder armor. Aside from the yellow plates he'd gotten from his previous adventure in the Big Big Gun Emplacement In Space where he'd met a fat, balding, bad-poetry-spouting officer named Jip Kipper that was really Dark Lurking Guy, leader of the Semi-Secret Organization for Stealing Stuff (which he, once again, didn't know), he had bluish plates, orangish plates, and pea-green plates.

"Oh, dear." Said Elsa, knowing what would come next-another insane adventure.

This, of course is why this story series is called "The Adventures of The Insane Space Hunter."

Duh.

The Hunter and Elsa came tearing off the ship, blasting everything in sight, as everything in sight was also tearing around, trying to blast THEM. So, there was a lot of tearing around, a lot of blasting, and a lot of green-clad blast troopers. The intrepid duo made short work of their opponents, partly because they were more skilled, partly because they were the heroes of the story, and partly because a lot of troopers standing behind a lot more troopers tend to, when tearing around blasting everything in sight, hit their comrades in front of them. This happened quite a bit, and the Hunter and Elsa only had to actually eliminate about five troopers.

With all the troopers on the ground in a relative state of unconsciousness or some other incapacitated condition, it was quite a bit easier to figure out what exactly was going on. The event that was actually happening in the docking bay was a medium-scale invasion that the Hunter and Elsa had double-handedly (though they actually had four hands between them) caused to shoot itself repeatedly.

"How dare you!" came the voice of Dark Lurking Guy, who had led the problematic charge. "This plan was planned three times over!"

"Two, sir. We stopped the tape, remember?" said Number 18, who was standing next to him, wearing his official SSOSS hat with the big gilded number 18 on it.

"Ah, yes. Two times over! Two times! Although it was no doubt an educational experience for all that should have been repeated a few extra times, we repeated it twice!"

"That's all right, sir, they only stopped it once by causing all of our troopers to shoot each other blankly."

"But once is enough!"

"Yes, sir... I suppose that's true... why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're an uncreative, moronic, confused SSOSS member!"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. I also forgot my name."

"I knew that!"

"Sir?" interrupted Number 9.

"What?!"

"Well... those two people who caused our whole operation to go ker-flouff have disappeared." Looking around, Dark Lurking Guy realized that this statement was true. "Uh... er... how rude!" exclaimed Dark Lurking Guy. "I know! Let's send these two perfectly alive troopers here that have inexplicable, nasty-looking holes in their armor and are standing in front of two dead uniformed blast troopers who are NOT wearing armor for whatever reason to find out the two people that mysteriously disappeared from under our noses without visibly leaving the room!"

"Good idea, sir!" said Number 18, still confused. The Hunter and Elsa, in their newly acquired armor, promptly left to find themselves while Dark Lurking Guy, noticing that Number 18 was confused, as he always was, whipped out a tape recorder to play back what he'd just said.

"Poor man. That number 18 on his hat must be compressing his brain." said Dark Lurking Guy as he hit play.

"...times over! Two times! Although it was no doubt an educational experience for all that should have been repeated a few extra times, we repeated it twice!"

"That's all right, sir, they only stopped it once by causing all of our troopers to shoot each other blankly."

"But once is enough!"

"Yes, sir... I suppose that's true... why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're an uncreative, moronic, confused SSOSS member!"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. I also forgot my name."

"I knew that!"

At this point, the Hunter and Elsa were out of earshot, which, with their poorly designed helmets, was about ten feet away, and didn't hear the rest of the conversation or the other three times Dark Lurking Guy would replay that particular section of tape for Number 18 who would remain confused anyway.

"My, they surely don't make them like they used to, do they?" asked the princess as they left the insanely incompetent array in a useless attempt to find themselves.

"You can't mold fake plastic crystalline shards in a broken stainless steel mold for five-pound-note printing plates." replied the Hunter to her query. "That, and it's rather difficult to make waffles without a branding iron that isn't shaped in an odd, roundish cross-hatch pattern."

"Right..." said Elsa, realizing just how whacked-out the Hunter could be most of the time. "Now, all we need to do is blend in with the rest of the troops we haven't already gotten to shoot each other..." she began, but then she notice that the Hunter was doing a rather odd prancing bit on his way down the hallway, singing.

"There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza, and the green grass grows all around, all around..." he was crooning, slightly off-key. Before she could stop him, however, a troupe of identically prancing blast troopers in identical off-green armor came around the corner with identical blast holes from previous battles, which he joined in prancing while they joined him in song. Shrugging, she joined them as well, in hopes of not throwing off the odd groove.

"And the green grass grows all around. And in this hole, there was a rope, dear Henry, dear Henry, a rope, dear henry, dear Henry, and the green grass grows all around to fix it!" they all sang, still slightly off-key. Just when Elsa was beginning to think that this was all really insane and useless, Number 30 came around the corner (easily identified by the large gilded 30 on his combat helmet) and told them to carry on. They did, but on the third oddly-sounding-like-it-was-completely-made-up-verse, another prancing trooper pulled the Hunter into an adjoining hallway, and he pulled Elsa along with him.

"Nobody starts a song like that, except one person." The unknown blast trooper said. "And nobody knows the lyrics to Louie Louie, either, but many versions have been made up." replied the Hunter.

"Did I miss something?" asked Elsa.

"Yeah. First, I blew off a cyborg's arm for no apparently good reason, then I got my head impaled on the tail of the Eternal Dragon of the MDb World, then DamnGlitch here tried to defeat the legendary annoying evil, B07n. Then, my head was reconstructed, and we both fought in another battle where I broadcast over a public radio station the information pertaining to an incident where an evil scientist's base had blown up, talked with a penguin by handing him fish, and ended up being blown into interdimensional limbo by a cyborg not entirely unlike myself." replied the Hunter, summing up his adventures very badly in two sentences.

"I'm glad you can explain all of that." she replied.

"So, you figured out it's me." said DamnGlitch, taking off his helmet and revealing his foof of shocked purple hair. The Hunter and Elsa did likewise, and proper introductions followed shortly. First, however, they dined on finger sandwiches which were curiously strewn about a small coffee table placed conspicuously in the middle of the hallway next to an old Chesterfield couch that looked like it had been chased across the fields of ancient Earth. After they finished (during their somewhat belated formal introductions), the couch mysteriously disappeared, and the Camp Grenadan officers in charge of strewing finger sandwiches about conspicuously-placed coffee tables in the middle of hallways near Chesterfield couches came and replaced the now-eaten sandwiches, then took the coffee table away.

"You have to love bureaucracy." said the Hunter, almost not entirely sardonically.

"Evidently, the Semi-Secret Organization for Stealing Stuff is attempting to take over the Bob system, which is the system we're in, because the Galactic Police Force thinks it a ridiculously pointless system, which it is. Thus, they can get free fuel from the galaxy-spanning chain of fuel stations the Hunter is currently working for."

"Which reminds me, I need to go rally the people around the flag of a dog laid across a telephone pole." interjected the Hunter.

"Huh?" asked the princess, hopelessly confused yet again by the Hunter.

"He means he needs to pick up his payment for services rendered." replied Kejardon.

"Why didn't he just say that then?"

"Because then it wouldn't require confusion and explaining. It takes a while to get to know him well enough to try to understand him, you see. The only being I've ever known to entirely understand him 100% of the time is a penguin."

"Why is that?"

"Because the only way to communicate with him is to hand him fish."

"That explains a lot."

"We're off to see the Lizard, the Magnanimous Lizard of Troz..." sang the Hunter, helmet on, prancing down a hallway marked "Administrative Offices of Fill Up, Pay Up, and Get Out."

"But... the Bob system... can we save it?" the princess asked Kejardon as they donned their helmets to tag along with their crooning companion. "I mean... we can't just let them be subjugated by an intergalactic gangster, can we?"

"Oh, you've already stopped the SSOSS. Don't worry about that. All their troops for the entire invasion were in the docking bay you landed in, and all of them are now incapacitated in one way or another."

"I didn't know that."

"It's okay. One would think that no one would ever do something so stupid as to put all of one's troopers in one docking bay, but hey, that's the SSOSS for you."

"But won't they try again?"

"Nah, for some reason, they always figure they'll get stopped in the same manner at the same point in the operation if they should try it again, which is entirely wrong, because no sane group of heroes would thwart them the same way in the same place again--they'd follow a logical path to see where they'd strike next, and attempt to thwart them there. Meanwhile, if the villains ever tried to strike back where they had before, they'd win, because the heroes are at the next logical conquest point."

"Why don't they try that, then?"

"Because it makes a little too much sense to be all that sane a plan. You hang out with guys like the Hunter long enough, you go a little bananas yourself."

"I see..."

"Either that, or you're not around stupid people like the SSOSS often enough."

"Yeah... though about those insane ones..." replied Elsa, eyeing the Hunter, who was currently cashing out his fifth comprehensive pay voucher for a multitude of seven-pound notes.

"Right. Adios." replied DamnGlitch.

"Be sure to look me up at the fresh-cut spring flowers spewn across a babbling brook with a hint of lemon sometime." said the Hunter.

"Hey! That was almost intelligible!" said DamnGlitch, slapping the Hunter on the back.

"Thanks. I do try, you know."

"Goodbye! I'll be sure to look you up, and in the meantime, you deserve some sort of reward for your trouble!" Elsa said, handing DamnGlitch a randomly large sum of money she'd withdrawn from her family's royal savings account.

"That's all right, dryer lint is only good for firestarter!" replied the Hunter as the engines of the ship continued to warm up. "Have a nice day!"

"Uh... sure." she said as the hatch to her ship closed. Seconds later, the ship blasted out of the hangar bay, toward parts known...

"Nice girl." said DamnGlitch.

Chapter 3: Business As Usual