“We found this exciting little cave on the Nord coast. Lovely.”
“Why are you back here‽” shouted the Space Chicken.
“Because no-one can survive on their own. We all need each other. We need supplies.”
“I’m sure you four could survive on your own.”
“Uh,” said Clein, “three. Two didn’t make it.”
“He means David Gratton II,” said Clint.
There was a long silence. Clint and Clein (now sat on the edge closest to where the Space Chicken, Fred Jr and Dave were stood) pressed a couple of buttons, so they jumped slightly away from the group on the ground. The Space Chicken took a few steps forward to pursue them anyway. Old Man Tales stood at the centre of the Fez and watched over the scene.
“Wait,” Dave said. “You three are homeless. The Space Chicken’s homeless. Fred Jr moves in his home.”
‘That should be “in eir home”. I am gender-neutral and so should my pronouns be.’
“In eir home, then. We’re all homeless, anyway. Why don’t we all try to open the Fez?”
“No!” said Clint, again not really answering the question, if there even was one. “It’s mine.”
“It’s mine, you mean?̦” said Clein.
“You have to share,” said Dave.
“Never.” Clint pressed his finger onto one of the buttons. Nothing happened. “The button’s just popping back into place again.”
“It should disappear,” the Space Chicken said.
“Maybe,” Dave suggested excitedly, “that means you’ve opened the Fez.”
A young passerby looked incredibly distressed at the sight of the Fez. “Stop! You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
The Space Chicken attempted to roll his eyes but once again found himself restrained by biological form. “We know what we’re doing.”
“No, you don’t.” The passerby buried eir head in eir hands. “Oh, Quack.” E looked up again. “Don’t you know the danger of what you’re dealing with? Haven’t you heard the prophecy? Just leave the Fez alone and no-one gets hurt.”
“It’s not as basic as ignoring the problem. We have to take hold of the problem and reverse it.”
“And what are you doing to reverse the problem?”
“We’re trying to get someone else to open the Fez.”
“And I think it’s working,” said Dave. “The twins have succeeded in opening the Fez.”
“No, then the button would stay pressed in. It’s not doing that. It’s popping back out again.”
The passerby successfully rolled eir eyes. “Oh, Quack. Anyone opening the Fez is wrong. We should have just destroyed it. I don’t care if you think you’re special, it’s still going to bring about the apocalypse. Humans are always looking for new ways to prove mortality.”
“Hey!” shouted the Space Chicken. “My child and I are deeply offended by your belief that we’re human or even native to this Tartarus-bound galaxy.”
“I don’t care if you’re offended. Your sensitivity to science is of little value when we’re faced with the destruction of all life on the planet.”
“I told them,” the Space told them so. “I told the secondary creators that the Milky Way was just going to end badly.”
‘Indeed,’ said Fred Jr, floating next to eir father. ‘The fact that it ends at all should have been an indication.’
“I’m confused,” said Clein. “Is the Fez opening?”
“I think so,” said the Space Chicken. “But not by your hand.”
The passerby wandered round to the side of the Fez opposing Clint and Clein. “Oh, Cotton Sock,” e blasphemed. “Of all the people to open the Fez and unleash evil upon the world, it would be you, Crazy Dave Gratton.”
“Space Chicken,” said the normal Dave. “I think I’m going to have to prolong my visit.”
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