Defrag: Phenomenonialistic

Previously...


Maggie slipped into the passenger seat and winced in pain. “Did they tag you?” Max asked as he started to accelerate the car. 

“No. I'm feeling pain from doing all those acrobatics on the way down.” 

Max nodded. That meant that they had shifted into a version with different bio-physical parameters. Luckily it had happened after Mags had made her escape from the building or otherwise, athletic or not, she wouldn't have survived the fall. “Do you need any first aid?” 

Maggie shook her head. “Let's do an orientation.” It was their standard ritual for trying to identify what version they were in. 

“Yes please,” Goner said from the back seat. Maggie spun around, startled, and Max made a yelping noise. 

“How long have you been here?” Max shouted. 

Goner explained that in his version, he and Max had been driving down a long country road, on the way to meet a farmer who was advertising some firearms for sale. They had found the ad online at a public library. Next they had hot-wired a car, scoped out some corner drug dealers and rolled them for their cash. It was nasty, but the last shift had left them without cell phones, money, or weapons. The geography had changed enough that none of their storage caches were available. And none of the standard contact protocols were in effect; the Professor wasn't answering, Pretty George wasn't answering, the other Dragons weren't answering. There was no subway system. They couldn't find a local version of the Diner or the Bookstore. Max had tried a few of his rituals, his trances, but hadn't gotten any clear directions. Goner had reminded himself that it wasn't all that different than being stranded behind enemy lines in a war zone; you did what you had to. 

“So I was grabbing a nap and woke up when I heard Max talking to someone just now.” Goner leaned forward and offered his hand. “They call me Goner, ma'am. And who might you be?” 

“I'm Maggie. Nice to meet you.” She smirked. “Again.”

Defrag: Only Death Can Save You Now/Cube Hype

Previously...

And previously... 


The troll roared, Max felt dizzy. 

“And what do you think the troll symbolizes?” Madison asked him. 

Max ducked a swipe from a massive fist. 

“You don't think the running-out-of-ammo is the more revealing metaphor, Susan?” another voice asked. 

Max tried to roll inside the creature's reach but he ended up just laying down. He was exhausted. 

“I told you, my name is Madison Hall. Dr. Longfellow does not work at this facility.” 

“Max,” the other voice said. “You have to get up.” 

The troll raised its fist again. 

“I really don't want to.” 

The troll smashed him. 

The room on the other side of the glass was empty suddenly. 

“Damn,” Madison said. “He's disappeared again. This is never going to work.” 

“He's probably just going to finish off the troll. He'll be back,” the voice said. 

Madison sighed. “Okay... Let's boot up the Angst program in the meantime and see if we can't decode some more of the cheerleader symbolism.”