WEEK 4

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Tadashi, Sophie, and Princess Anna are dead. By now, maybe you're realizing that this plays is way more dangerous than you have ever feared, but don't worry, maybe some hope will come along the way.

For example, if anyone tries to open the Conservatory Door leading outside starting this week, they'll find that they finally have access to the graveyard and outside. You are now freely able to leave the mansion whenever you want.

Maybe you can all finally leave this place...?

20 guests remain.]

[SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY]

 

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Comments

[sixfingeredstan]

Precisely. I'm not buying it for a second. Especially that nonsense about it being 'someone or something.' What, are we all going to start watching the damn chicken for treasonous behavior? Or the piano?

[aboyandhiscar]

[he snorts.[ Guess the little guy could peck us to death, totally villainous.

And the piano--uh. I'm not sure why anyone hasn't broken it down anyway yet, but still, it's a piano. If it was plotting something, preeetty sure stealth isn't on its side.

[sixfingeredstan]

You never know, Mike. [Ford waggles his fingers and eyebrows villainously.] It could be aaaanyoooone~.

[aboyandhiscar]

[g a s p]

Even the cricket? Shoot, think he's hopping around at night, plotting our demise?

[sixfingeredstan]

Absolutely. I've always thought there was something sinister about him.

[This is a much easier conversation to have than a serious one, by far.]

[aboyandhiscar]

I'm shocked and appalled. Truly! Guess you really can't trust the quiet ones.

Or, well, the ones quiet by default since it's hard to hear them if they aren't ear level.

[sixfingeredstan]

Oh, God. [Ford tosses his head back with a hearty laugh.] Don't let him hear you say that!

[aboyandhiscar]

Okay, yeah, that was kind of a low blow. [a beat] Uh, no pun intended.

But seriously, we've got nothing to worry about. That guy's as straight as an arrow.

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford snorts in laughter.]

Unlike some of us.

[It's him. He's gay.]

[aboyandhiscar]

[b u d d y]

He better be careful, wouldn't want YOU leading him off the straight and narrow path.

[sixfingeredstan]

Oh, he doesn't have to worry. He's not remotely my type.

[aboyandhiscar]

What, can't imagine him out there dimension hopping and blasting baddies with you?

[they are thinking of two very different types of straight]

[sixfingeredstan]

Uh, that—

[Okay, moving on.]

No, not remotely.

[aboyandhiscar]

Guess he is a little old school for that. Ah well.

[sixfingeredstan]

Yes, something like that. I think you and I are a little more, ah...progressive.

[aboyandhiscar]

I'd hope so. Future may not be the best place, but it's anything but boring.

In any case, I don't think we need to worry about some plant, your type or not.

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford squints.]

You...he's a cricket. An insect. Oh, dear God, do they not have insects where you come from?

[aboyandhiscar]

Huh? 'Course we do. I mean, they're mostly roaches and they don't talk, but, what's that got to do with anything?

[Jiminy's a cool guy that could go on swashbuckling adventures, why the bias??

...

Wait. Mike blinks blankly.]

Uuuh, hold up. Are we talking about the same things here?

[sixfingeredstan]

I—you called him a plant...

[Oh. Oh. The mole.]

...Never mind me. Clearly this place is getting to me.

[DISTURBING]

[aboyandhiscar]

[Mike stares for a moment, and then cracks up, patting him on the back.]

You're not the only one, Pops. Just don't start getting all old timer on me.

[sixfingeredstan]

I'm not losing my touch, I promise you that.

[He is...maybe just a touch defensive.]

[aboyandhiscar]

[there there buddy. Mike gives a dismissive wave]

I'm just messing with you, man. But shoot now you've got me curious--what is your type? Excluding little bug dudes.

[sixfingeredstan]

Ah.

[Well. How best to phrase this?]

Mainly, anyone who's interesting enough to hold my attention. Someone intelligent. Engaging. Ready for adventure.

[He pauses.]

For the most part, male.

[aboyandhiscar]

. . .

[oh. OH!!! Well now things are clicking.

Wait shit, that means--!

Mike scans the room for a moment. Who meets all those criteria? Maui......ish? No, too stand offish. Tarzan, Demyx maybe?? No, they look closer to his own age.

..........what even is Wander....welp, NEXT--

LEFOU? Sure he had kind of a breakdown earlier but who wouldn't? Well. Ford wouldn't, he's too cool.

. . .

It boils down between Fiddleford and the cricket. PROCESS OF ELIMINATION.]

Heh! Well you've got the specifics down. I was gonna say if this wasn't a murder mansion, you'd have your pick here, but looks like McGucket's the only one who'd fit your list.

[sixfingeredstan]

[He doesn't like the way Mike peers around at the other residents at that, and when he turns back to him and brings up Fiddleford—

Ford's shoulders go straight as a ramrod and his expression is like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.]

That's—preposterous. Fiddleford and I are old friends. Just friends. Ridiculous!