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Hey, Read this one instead was made by Visionary, trying to fit in. Plus, he actually edited this one. Somewhat. on 4/24/2003 at 4:57:08 PM. It was made in response to "Surplus to Destiny" part two, or "The Dancer/Non-Visionary Special Slightly-After-Easter Edition" #4: Central Casting. posted by Visionary on 4/24/2003 at 2:43:24 PM.
"Wow" Visionary stated with a slightly awed note in his voice. "That's a lot of reality."
"Indeed, sir" Quoth agreed, staring up at the 'Destinations' board with a certain satisfaction. So far, things were actually going to plan. After an indeterminate amount of time sitting in the beige nothingness, their narrative thread had indeed been picked up and the three of them suddenly found themselves in the cosmic equivalent of Grand Central Station. Before them was a 3 story flow chart for all the versions of reality, organized into small flip boards that were constantly turning over to display updated information about each alternate universe. Various other uncast types were semi-existing around them, reading the job listings that appeared and disappeared with dizzying speed for each world. "All this is just for the Parodyverse main hub. Notice as you go farther and farther out to the edges of the board, reality gets increasingly different. After that, you have to get diverted to wholly different universes that have little to do with ours."
"Um... okay. But which one is our Parodyverse?" Visionary asked curiously. The post directly in front of him flipped over, listing the current opportunities for universe PV-391. Apparently, they had an opening for a new-born Royal Skree Larval-Monkey. He wasn't sure if he had the kind of experience necessary to apply for something like that, however... Even after extensively embellishing his resume.
Fleabot scanned the board himself. "Good question. For that matter, are any of them ours? Didn't ours technically become an alternate when we were retroactively removed?"
"Not quite" Quoth corrected. "Yes, ours was altered, but not fundamentally so. See there?" she pointed a wing. "Universe facet PV-616. Things seem to be flowing along nicely without us."
"Hey, there's an opening for a cow to become sentient in our Parodyverse!" Visionary noted, mostly to avoid dwelling on that last bit Quoth added. "I bet I could play a cow convincingly."
"Yeah, you have quite a range" Fleabot responded. "But then what? Do you know anyone who would go out of their way to reorder the universe based on the word of a cow?"
Visionary was slightly troubled by realization that he probably did. "Well, our appointment with the Queue Master is coming up... we'd better find something."
"Yes sir, but I was thinking... With the Hooded Hood supposedly dead in our reality, we should probably look for him elsewhere." Quoth suggested.
"Does it work like that?" asked Fleabot. "I mean, from what you were saying, there's only one Chronicler for all of these Parodyverse alternates. Only one Shaper. Only one you, before you stopped existing... Are there really alternate Hoods?"
"In truth, there's only one of everyone and even only one Parodyverse too" Quoth clarified. "There's just lots of possibilities... facets. Certain Cosmic Office holders can step back, see the whole gemstone and recognize themselves no matter what facet they might be currently caught up in. Most people can't. But technically, only one facet shines at a time, even when time has no meaning. So only one of everyone exists."
Visionary felt a headache coming on. "Wait... I thought the universe was writing in a book. And then it was a tapestry with loose threads. And now it's a multifaceted gemstone?" He frowned. "Apparently, reality has even more identity issues than we do."
"Amen" Fleabot agreed. "Let's stick to the basics for now. What about dearly departed HH?"
Quoth gave them both a hopeless look and sighed. "As I was trying to say, since the Hooded Hood apparently doesn't exist alive in our facet of the Parodyverse, then we'd likely be best off looking for him in one of the alternates. He could just be 'playing possum' back home, as it were, and causing trouble elsewhere." She began nibbling the tips of her wing feathers in distraction. "Of course, that all depends on whether our hypothesis of how the Hood works is fundamentally sound or not. We're, ah... not quite sure how he does what he does, really. Drives Ms. Shaper to no end of distraction."
"Another sentient cow opening on some reality called 'Earth Ranchburger'," Visionary noted helpfully, doing his best to ignore Quoth's confession for the good of his nerves. "Doesn't have the most cow-friendly ring to it, though, does it?"
"Focus, Quothie" Fleabot prodded, paying no attention to the former Regular. Instead, he nodded towards the giant clock in the middle of the station. "5 minutes 'til our appointment. What are we looking for?"
She bristled a bit at his words, then squinted at the giant board. "Yes, well... Someplace drastic... If there's a Hood or someone like him bouncing around reality, that's what he'll be tuning in to watch. We need positions someplace where everything is about to 'hit the fan', as Jury would say." Finally, the corners of her beak turned up in a little smile and she pointed. "Someplace... just like that."
"Name?" the stork behind the receptionist's desk asked in a decidedly bored tone.
"Uh... um... what?" the disembodied consciousness responded with a slight undercurrent of panic. "I don't... I mean, I thought that's what I was here to..."
The stork chuckled. "The newly formed types fall for that every time" he said with a smirk. "You the 8:15 appointment?"
"Yes, yes... that's me."
"Got your W-82's filled out? Proof of acceptance into the Parodyverse Existence Guild? A membership card will do... Yeah, okay... great. Have a seat next to the others over there..." he nodded to Visionary, Quoth and Fleabot who were flipping through magazines in the reception area, ..."and I'll let you know when you can go in."
"How come we didn't need all of that documentation?" Visionary whispered to Quoth as the new guy (or gal... or thing) floated on over.
"We're here as natural reincarnated citizens" Quoth answered. "Even though we never existed. You don't need a green card... well, it's actually kind of magenta... but either way. You're already native to the Parodyverse. That's why you still look like you, while most of these new beings are just hazy, pre-formed ideas."
"I think that geeky stork-boy is checking you out again" Fleabot interrupted.
Visionary checked. Sure enough, the gangly receptionist was looking at Quoth out of the corner of his eye. "Well, she was quite friendly to him when we came in here..."
"Oh yes... quite friendly" Fleabot returned happily. "Say, this wouldn't be the fellow you did 'favors' for, would it?" He grinned as the raven sank, scowling, back behind her ten month old issue of Modern Malefactor. "Maybe we haven't been wiped out of everyone's memories as completely as we imagined. Hmmmm... I wonder what she could have done to make such a lasting impression..."
It really was no wonder that he got stepped on as often as he did, Visonary thought.
"Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?" a voice asked from his left.
Visionary turned to face (sort of) the new guy. It felt almost like talking to an imaginary friend... more of the idea that someone was there than the reality of it. "Oh, um... yes?"
"What's it like?" it asked eagerly. "You know... the Parodyverse? You've been there, haven't you?"
"Well, it's... it's pretty much... really sort of..." Visionary struggled. "Unbalanced" he finally decided on. "It's kind of like spinning around in your office chair for two straight minutes, and then trying to walk to the water cooler. Only a bit moreso."
The consciousness looked at him blankly.
"What the hell do you do in your office all day?" Fleabot asked with a snort.
Just then the intercom on the secretary's desk buzzed. "Send the next batch on in, would you Stewie?"
The stork nodded at the three of them. "You're up" he noted. He leaned casually against the desk as Quoth got out of her seat. "You know, if you're free later, I could take you out to lunch to celebrate your new position..."
"Oh, ah... thanks" Quoth answered, with a quick silencing glare at Fleabot. "But, ah... you know how it is with starting a new life and all... Things being so hectic..."
The stork's suave smile faltered a bit. "How about a phone number?"
"Don't have one yet" Quoth replied hurriedly. "Much more of a letter writer, myself. Although I don't have an address yet either. Pity. Nice meeting you, though. For the first time. Ever. Bye!"
She quickly flapped after Visionary and Fleabot.
"Ha!" the little robot snickered gleefully as they entered the Queue Master's office. "Stewie! It's almost worth being wiped out of existence..."
"It's not just cows, you know" Bertrum P. Wurlitzer, the current Queue Master of the Parodyverse was telling them from behind his overloaded desk. "Livestock's gonna be big in the coming months. In fact, a really juicy part just opened up for a biogenetically engineered pig supervillain. It's a choice gig, happening in Parodiopolis, on Earth... Heard of it? Hell of a town. Not quite up to Proelus, but it's one of the more happening place in the Parodyverse."
"Proelus?" Visionary asked, curious.
"Capital City-State of the Flaxian Empire. It's on the planet in the Parodyverse. Everyone who's anyone is there. Don't even ask, though... can't possibly get you in. Waiting list as long as my arm in all possible facets. Earth's nice, though... don't get me wrong. It's got that backwater charm and all. A lot of the cosmic office holders go slumming around there. Good place for a few retired souls to rest up in preparation for the next life. Smart move."
Visionary and Fleabot cast a questioning glance at Quoth, but she ignored them. "Yes, just the thing for us. But instead of the pig opening, we were wondering about opportunities in facet PV-119."
Master Wurlitzer pawed through the many files stacked on his desk. "Here we go... Hmmm... Are you sure? Not the best neighborhood, if you know what I mean. Deadly dull for the most part, but recently it seems a bad element is moving in. That whole dimension is like a run down shopping mall. I've actually been getting transfer requests from that one."
"Ah! Does that mean you could arrange a trio of walk-in parts?"
"I suppose, but... Are you sure you wouldn't rather start fresh?" Bertrum prodded. "I mean, these bozos screwed up perfectly good lives, why clean up their messes?"
"We're quite sure, thank-you sir" Quoth assured him. "Anything to skip adolescence again" she added, by way of explanation. "We're just eager to exist."
He nodded and started scribbling out job orders. "We get a fair amount of traffic here at the Parodyverse, mostly eager-to-get-involved types. Some lurkers. Admittedly, things are a bit slow right now, what with the technical difficulties, but we'll get back on track." He stamped a seal on each of the slips and handed them across the desk to them. "It helps that we're not that picky when it comes to letting in new characters..." He noticed them pause as they got out of their chairs. "Oh... no offense."
"Was that last comment aimed at me, or all three of us in general?" Visionary asked, back in the main station.
"Let it go" Fleabot advised. He was studying his hire slip. "I can't make heads or tails out of this, can either of you?"
"They're all on Earth 119" Quoth confirmed. "Beyond that, I'm not sure. His scratchings are worse than Nevermore's." She took a deep breath and looked at them both. "Okay, this is it. Board the train and report to your new lives... but above all else, remember who you are! Tracking each other down will be next to impossible if we can't even identify ourselves."
"Hey, if you think I'm going to forget about you and Stewie any time soon..." Fleabot teased, but with a nervous edge to his voice.
She ignored that one. "I've done some checking, and the Bean and Donut exists in that facet of reality. As soon as you can, make your way there. Wear something with a yellow diamond on it, so we can recognize each other. If we can all meet up, things will be that much easier."
"Right, got it" Visionary assured them, heartened by the idea that he could soon get back to his regular morning crullers even in an alternate reality. The fact that she was tailoring the instructions to make it especially easy for him to remember wasn't lost on him... but, at this point, he was willing to take all the help he could get.
"Don't worry" Quoth assured them. "Everything will likely go smoothly."
There was a bright light shining in his eyes. He also felt the stuffy breath of someone exhaling directly into his face from a distance of less than a foot away. "Am I at the optometrists?" he wondered to himself. That didn't seem quite right, but no other explanation was readily available in his memory. He was having trouble remembering much of anything.
"OW!" he stated in a hoarse voice. Somebody behind that damn light was poking the bottom of his foot.
"You can feel that?" a voice asked.
"I said 'ow', didn't I?" he replied moodily. "What's going on?"
"Relax, the doctor is on his way" the voice replied soothingly. This wasn't news that helped him to relax. Was he in a car accident? Did he have a stroke? Was he in that episode of The Twilight Zone with the pig-faced plastic surgeons? His eyes were beginning to adjust to the absence of the penlight. Definitely a hospital room, and a Spartan one at that. A large woman in a nursing uniform was leaning over him. "Can you tell me your name?" she asked curiously.
He thought about that one. It was on the tip of his tongue. V-something. "Hang on" he croaked. "I know this one, honest. It's... Vi... Vish..." He tried to run through all the names he knew that began like that. "... It's... Vish... no..."
"Vishno? You mean like Vishnu?"
"One of those, maybe" he finally agreed wearily. "I've been... reincarnated. There were three of us... and I've got to do something. It involves... donuts, I think. And reordering the universe. But donuts come first."
"You're saying... let me get this straight..." the nurse began. "You're saying that you're the reincarnation of Vishnu, second god of the Hindu Triad, come to reorder the universe. But only after you get some donuts."
"Um... okay" he agreed. He didn't really remember saying that, but then he didn't remember much of anything at the moment.
"Hoo-boy" the nurse said with a sigh. She got up and injected the contents of a needle into his IV drip, then trudged across the room to stick her head out the door. "Orderly!" she called. "Our John Doe is out of his coma and feeling pretty grand. See if you can't track down Dr. Valium... and some decent restraints while you're at it."
"And some jello" Vish-something added weakly from his bed just before he passed out.