Chapter Text
Mr. WPNZ slumped down on the bed, dropping his hand on the pillow, dropping some gunfire dust.
There's a burnt hole in the wall, their finger guns feel a slight burn of pain. He looked angry. WPNZ's head dropped to the pillow.
“Your body's burnt out, take a rest.”
“Well ain't that swell.”Mr. WPNZ slumped down on the bed. The pupils shake.
theirs a burnt hole in the wall, their finger guns feel a slight burn of pain. He looked angry. Wpnz's head dropped to the pillow.
“Your body's burnt out, take a rest. The rock says,” he jazzed his hands in the air.
The same face and voice staticing in the room, with a light echo in the warehouse. He's seen an old television box before in underground fallout basements and a dirtied living room. Mr. WPNZ hasn't usually met a TV set of his design before.
‘So whaddya say...?’ static was hissing under his voice, a face and a colorful smile, Mr WPNZ whispers to himself, "Wanna be friends?" Mr. Wpnz put his hands over his eyes.
The staticking noises in his head had rumbled in his head when he was thrown out of the streets, by the garbage of his own body, rather than the dirtied crimes of being sent to a prison. Only seen as less for being a deadbeat, not even worth it to call the cops on him.
Mr Puzzles, the visanoir of puzzles, wasn't some random puzzle maker down the street. But an arrested lunatic show host, with a dream like a restaurant and a head as a house.
Dragged out, thrown in the rubble of the streets. He felt his brain become staticky, and every sound and memory played continuously over each other. His mind fell into overdrive, blaming himself, betraying his own belief that he was right. There were too many emotions he didn't think he'd feel all his life.
He couldn't scratch his skin, shoot a dove, or kiss a frog. (Not that he’d like to, but it's saddening he couldn't put a pipe bomb in one yet to show the kids.)
‘Dad plays in his head’, his pupils became wider, he sat there, laying his hands on the side of the bed, that's too short..
Wpnz hissed in pain, tasting the iron on his tongue. He licked his yellow teeth and clicked his tongue. He sighed, but like he could rest his head after.. Pft losing for the first time ever, Hah!
No tricks of a fake fallout of a separated arm. Sprouting electricity, paralyzed. Oh, how horrible of a feeling that was. Couldn't even enjoy the accomplishment of pushing their kids to be stronger. He saw that Katana still had some fight in her, just wanted to see it in her eyes again, since she's always restrained her claws at her job! When she could've been setting the whole thing on fire. So many job changes, to lose her again.
‘You couldn't even sacrifice being a hitman to be with them, it was your decision!’ He bolted straight up from the covers, “Yeah, well, what else was I supposed to do, Kareen?” HE huffed,
“Oh great, being insane was contagious…” Mr. WPNZ recalled the kids choosing.. Their mom. Hesitates to say he was deranged himself, he would want to imply he's wrong.
There was a knock at the door.
“At least it'll be fun. I'm not out of commission yet.” Dragged into the TV, he wasn't very light on his body, he almost felt sick, sensory hell.
He looks at the TV's eyes somberly.
“Look into my eyes, boy.” A younger Mr. WPNZ sat in an oriental chair. With a single red eye staring daggers at him. Two glasses looked like decorated and diamond-shaped perfume bottles with a cut-open top.
Dark Brown eyes with a little bit of red in the middle of their iris, and the TV's right being a bright light blue. Always seem more visible in color the more insane they are.
“There is a lot to talk about.”
Mr WPNZ sits on the floor surrounded by paper and colored pencils… Mr puzzles' art wall galore of landscapes and stars. Lots of 5 pointed stars, cracks, and glowing stickers by the cobweb in the darker corner of the room. The room's shadow made Mr puzzles stand out a bit brighter.
Theirs a manufactured breeze of coldness that edges on his skin on repeat. He won’t rust, he tried… ordering himself to calm down.
“Well, what's business?” He looks at the retro TVs, curves, “Mr Puzzle, Puzzlevision.”
“Oh dear friend, no need for formality, business can wait. Can't get the readers ahead of the plot.”
“Yeah, well, you'd assume that's what hooks people to read it.” Wpnz, murmured. Leaning from their chair, legs crossed, and arm comfortably around the back of the chair.
Mr puzzles brought out 3 cups, “We can chat, so loosen up, just don't end up out of line, friend. But please, don't lose a limb for me.” Was he drunk or insane, flattering himself up like that, it couldn't remind Mr. WPNZ of anyone. It's not like Mr Puzzles had that much of a reflective screen for him to see who.
“But I had a lot of time reflecting on things, so don’t worry about yourself. Karen will be right where we want her soon. And any help from an enemy's friend will be nothing but dust soon.”
“And you're sure you don't want me to take a look at it, just to check it isn't a mess of loose revenge notes.”
“Ah, hahah, please, we know who loves being more reckless.”
“Gotta learn planning and being stealthy, before you know how to break the rules.”
Mr. Puzzles' antennas sprouted bits of electricity, “Skill! & Subversion to think you were always reckless and skilled as any reckless star.” Mr. Wpnz's brows changed, ‘Wait, what? Was it a compliment? “But you were a star meant to breathe from the nebula of your corpse.”
“Hmhm, I’ll take that as a compliment.” That was an intense description, swinging his cup around.
“You have memories I'd love to scour over.”
“Too bad, my memory isn't a TV, you can watch.”
They were getting along after a long rest.
“‘I thought it was ‘an enemy of my enemy is my friend,’… Or was it, ‘an enemy of my enemy doesn't make you a friend.’”
“Quotes change, depending on the narration you try to tell.” Mr puzzles watches Mr. WPNZ chug a wine quickly, hardly interested in memory.
“But, well. What they do is make us closer.”
“Oh yeah,” Mr. WPNZ's eyebrow rises, “Yeah.”
They talk for a while, WPNZ eyes always wondering back down to Mr Puzzles, till his checks had stars.
Mr. Wpnz's antennas sparkled with electricity, as his face went static. With Mr WPNZ leaving happily, putting something in his pocket. Shutting the door that is the only one not connected to the walls, compared to the other paper drawings(Maybe the canvas portraits and painting were on the walls.)
Mr puzzles ' hand went up, and unbent their antenna.
“Thanks, leggy, I needed help re-adjusting my antenna.”
Mr. WPNZ opened the door, curious to see that there was another person in the room… Mr puzzles just looks up at him, holding his hands on the desk. Specifically, the hands are sideways, out palms, and the other hand is also sideways, but backhanded over the palm hand…
Mr. Wpnz held a note, just a simple location. Seeing a toy car surrounded by the most colorful dull array of colors, with a lot of patterns of walls with wallpapers still attached to them. Layered around each other.
He stared at the cameras tucked in the branches of the tall old trees, with a smile, and it started glitching and stopped moving.
“Right out of commission! Still got it.” WPNZ is psyching himself up.