I'd like to use my +15 bonus to "flush out spies" I got from my Burns Negaverse Poker night omake.
Thank you.
A Hellfish flys again! ( a Simpsons X DVV CK2 Quest)
- Thread starter Ranger65
- Start date
Thank you.
I feel like we can use the blackmail for something else other than a peace card
I want to save it for something special like and also have that card in our pocket just in case
People keep bringing up "Let's give the blackmail to a King to get a good relationship with them" and for the life of me I don't get it. Doing that would just be a phenomenal waste in comparison to what we could potentially get from it. Hell, we could use it to force the govt to help us deal with Burns and his crew! At least that would be something that removes a pretty major thorn from our side!
In all honestly, we dont know an good use of the blackmail until we actually use it, we most likely will only activate it if A. the situation is dire enough to need instant help (bankruptcy, burns gets another syndrome crit) or B. it allows us to get into an extremely advantageous position (hand it to an king to put their relationship into 10, defeat burns)
- Location
- Three feet to the left
- Pronouns
- He/They
I mean, he is our biggest problem. And he is doing nuclear domestic terrorism. That's a pretty good use of the blackmail.
Can anyone think of a reason not to use the blackmail to get rid of Burns and his squad?
It's also acting a decent passive deterrent that keeps the government from messing with our affairs. We haven't paid our taxes yet we have a power plant that current is not up to code and we are helping Fat Tony get back in Business. We are doing illegal stuff and while the government is defanged in this world and has bigger fish to fry but they could(keyword) go after us.
I would say that at present we still have a good chance of dealing with him ourselves. His success in infiltrating the plant aside, we are still in a better position than he is and his options are limited.
Now, if he succeeds in getting ahold of the Birthday Bandit that may change, but for now I think we can hold it in reserve just in case something more dire pops up. After all, he's hardly the only threat to us, though he probably is the most personal at the moment.
All true, So long as its not used its very unlikely the gov targets us, even if it hurts our relations, which is part of the reason i want to (gradually) fix said relations, as it would reduce some "risk" of using the blackmail
While I'm very tempted to take the mercenary or animal friendship personal actions as my bonus, I wrote the Omake because it was specifically requested to go to the rooting out spies action.
I hadn't been paying enough attention to see how many cool actions he had, but I'll stick to trying to mitigate the damage done by the Crit/Crit Fail event we had.
+10 to Finale taking on spies.
I hadn't been paying enough attention to see how many cool actions he had, but I'll stick to trying to mitigate the damage done by the Crit/Crit Fail event we had.
+10 to Finale taking on spies.
One last party. (Canon)
Well lets keep the omake's going.
One last party.
Deep within Springfield Junkyard there laid a man.
More than a man, there laid a clown.
Birthday Bandit, formely B.B. the Clown hadn't been able to sleep for days.
Ever since that fateful day, the day they beat Syndrome it has been a nightmare.
What was the best moment of his life, quickly transformed into a game of cat and mouse.
After humillating THE Syndrome in live television, it was more than obvious the guy wanted him dead, probably in the most inhumane way possible.
Humans may no longer be considered animals, but those instincs of the old days from their forefathers are still there sleeping until the right moment.
And his body was constantly telling him to keep on moving, to get as far away as he could otherwise he was sure he wouldn't open his eyes ever again.
And yet here he lays, without energy, without will.
He told his party favors to run away, to hide in various separate places and to not contact each other, just to give each one time to keep Syndrome in a wild goose chase for as long as they could.
Didn't help the guy outright offered a reward for his head, he had to run away from various other places as some people had recognized and he won't blame them for wanting the reward.
Only an idiot or a saint would throw away the opportunity to win a billion dollars.
So he did the only thing he could do and that was to run.
He was just a clown for goodness sake, he was a master at comedy and timing, not a fighter.
He hired the party favors because he couldn't really fight when it came down to it, sure he targetted birthday parties of children over his grudge of never getting a present on his birthday, but those children had parents, some of them would more than sure break his bones if it wasn't for the party favors giving him some adventage in numbers.
''I am truly patethic as a clown aren't I?'' Birthday Bandit said to himself.
He may be on the junkyard, but that didn't mean he was truly connected off from the world.
The guy that was in charge of watching the entrance to this place before they fired him was a total idiot that is for sure, so stealing stuff like his phone without him noticing and getting access to the internet was easy as hell, helped that the security station key was under a very easy to spot rock, so he was able to keep it charged as the guy in charge didn't bring food and apparently went out to a fast food restaurant called krusty burger to get his food, which was for his luck somewhat away from his hiding place.
But seriously who uses their name as a password these days.
Still thanks to this Gil guy he was able to keep tabs on Syndrome.
And boy did he get a surprise when he found out the guy was in Springfield.
He had made sure to at least know how the city looked just in case someone saw Syndrome close to it.
People really were terminally online these days, so it was easy to recognize the tavern Syndrome was spotted, hell this guy Gil followed a lot of people of this city and various other people had spotted the guy close by to monuments of the city.
If dread had built up just from that, Syndrome own words on twitter sealed the deal.
Just what the hell he could do at that moment?
Last time it was a fluke, a stroke of luck that ended up being his win over Syndrome.
After all he was only a clown.
Birthday Bandit sighed to himself ''God damn it, does Clown School not prepare you for this stuff''
Ah yes Clown School, he still remembers it like it was yesterday.
Probably his happiest moments before he took this path of crime.
Before he even was Birthday Bandit, before he even was B.B. the Clown.
He was known as Bob Baker.
He honestly wanted to be a circus clown, he always had a soft spot for animals in general, but well, he wasn't the best student to say the least.
So he never could really get into a circus to follow his dream.
No he had to settle with having to entertain ungrateful brats who didn't knew how good they had it.
Cake, candies, PRESENTS.
something he always wanted, but never could truly have, especially after that stage of his life went from childhood to being a moody teenager.
He could tell a joke, he could do party tricks, hell in general he could do the stuff any clown could do.
But what always bringed him down from his days in clown school was one and only one thing.
The words from his teacher never stopped weighing on him after all.
It was the big day, it was the duo routine act test day and Bob was more than ready to ace the thing and follow his dream.
He had studied it for weeks, he knews his lines and routine from start to finish.
It was suppossed to be his day.
It didn't matter what his teacher had told him before, he would ace this thing and be a circus clown.
But when the time came to do his act, well everything was going well at first, the comedy act was perfect.
But then came the physical act.
He though he had done it perfectly, the buzz zapper, the water gun flower, the pie to the face.
But when he was done with it, instead of recieving a congratulations, he recieved a whack on his head from a rubben chicken from his teacher.
Bob had fallen to the floor at that moment not believing what his teacher had done, he had done his routine perfectly.
As Bob looked up to his teacher face just one word went out of his lips ''Why?''
His teacher instead of looking angry, just looked at him with dissapointment ''Bob I though you would understand by now, but I see now that you never will''.
Before Bob could asks his teacher continued ''I have told you time and time again, a clown greatest weapon in his arsenal is their timing, stuff like a pie to the face is funny in their own way, but unless you do it with the right timing you will never make the joke reach it's true potential.''
Bob was still on the ground still trying to see what he had done wrong on his act, his lips oppened once again ''But it was perfect'' the clown in training said refuting his teacher.
''Perfect for any normal person, but for a clown? far from it'' his teacher refuted.
Bob wanted a demostration, a demostration of what his teacher truly meant.
His teacher sighed and then pointed to his own partner on the test to truly show him.
Bob didn't think much of it at first, he was sure his partner would just repeat what he had done.
But as if fate was betting againts him it happened.
His partner had started with the zapper, the teacher got zapped alright, but when the zap was going trough the sprinklers started going off soaking the teacher in water, making the effect of the shock a more lasting one on the man.
Then it was the water gun flower, after his partner had dosed off the teacher in more water suddenly a bird shat on his head when the waterflow ended, making it a lot more ironic and funny as the water of the gun would have helped the teacher clean itself.
Then it was the pie to the face.
God that would be burned on his memory for the rest of his life, when his partner threw the pie to the teacher face a gust of wind suddenly appeared throwing down the rake that the groundskeeper left in one of the walls to the floor.
What followed was the most hilarious thing ever as his teacher suddenly went backwards from the pie hitting his face, to then falling over thanks to the rake directly sinking into the manure the groundskeeper had been using to tend the gardens.
Everyone in the gardens laughed their ass off at the display even him.
But yet he never understood what his teacher meant.
Once the grades were passed he got a meassely C+, while his partner got an A+.
When Bob asked just what he did wrong his teacher told him this ''There is nothing wrong with you in of itself Bob, the problem is that you think instead of feeling it, as long as you do it you will never truly become a clown''
He never could understands these words, once he was out of school he had so many average grades he had to settle as a party clown instead of a circus clown.
As the memories fade away from Birthday Bandit there is just one more thing in his mind as his eyes recover some of it is color.
When he thinks back to the words of his teacher, he thinks back to the moment where he beat Syndrome.
The moment of that day, the timing of the cake was more than perfect as Syndrome face got hit by it and his cape ended up capture by the helicopter.
''Still dunno what you meant that day oldman, probably never will'' Birthday bandit gets up from his sitting place
''But I gotta prepare this place if that guy found me, doubt I will be able to run away'' Birthday bandit said to himself.
''Without counting that the locals may also join the manhunt, strange I should be scared shitless and yet I never felt more alive in my life'' B.B. said as his smile grew wider.
''So you want a party eh Syndrome? well you will get one, all of the people coming for me'' Bob said with renewed strenght.
''I will give you all a party you will never be able to forget''.
One last party.
Deep within Springfield Junkyard there laid a man.
More than a man, there laid a clown.
Birthday Bandit, formely B.B. the Clown hadn't been able to sleep for days.
Ever since that fateful day, the day they beat Syndrome it has been a nightmare.
What was the best moment of his life, quickly transformed into a game of cat and mouse.
After humillating THE Syndrome in live television, it was more than obvious the guy wanted him dead, probably in the most inhumane way possible.
Humans may no longer be considered animals, but those instincs of the old days from their forefathers are still there sleeping until the right moment.
And his body was constantly telling him to keep on moving, to get as far away as he could otherwise he was sure he wouldn't open his eyes ever again.
And yet here he lays, without energy, without will.
He told his party favors to run away, to hide in various separate places and to not contact each other, just to give each one time to keep Syndrome in a wild goose chase for as long as they could.
Didn't help the guy outright offered a reward for his head, he had to run away from various other places as some people had recognized and he won't blame them for wanting the reward.
Only an idiot or a saint would throw away the opportunity to win a billion dollars.
So he did the only thing he could do and that was to run.
He was just a clown for goodness sake, he was a master at comedy and timing, not a fighter.
He hired the party favors because he couldn't really fight when it came down to it, sure he targetted birthday parties of children over his grudge of never getting a present on his birthday, but those children had parents, some of them would more than sure break his bones if it wasn't for the party favors giving him some adventage in numbers.
''I am truly patethic as a clown aren't I?'' Birthday Bandit said to himself.
He may be on the junkyard, but that didn't mean he was truly connected off from the world.
The guy that was in charge of watching the entrance to this place before they fired him was a total idiot that is for sure, so stealing stuff like his phone without him noticing and getting access to the internet was easy as hell, helped that the security station key was under a very easy to spot rock, so he was able to keep it charged as the guy in charge didn't bring food and apparently went out to a fast food restaurant called krusty burger to get his food, which was for his luck somewhat away from his hiding place.
But seriously who uses their name as a password these days.
Still thanks to this Gil guy he was able to keep tabs on Syndrome.
And boy did he get a surprise when he found out the guy was in Springfield.
He had made sure to at least know how the city looked just in case someone saw Syndrome close to it.
People really were terminally online these days, so it was easy to recognize the tavern Syndrome was spotted, hell this guy Gil followed a lot of people of this city and various other people had spotted the guy close by to monuments of the city.
If dread had built up just from that, Syndrome own words on twitter sealed the deal.
'Syndrome' said:
Just what the hell he could do at that moment?
Last time it was a fluke, a stroke of luck that ended up being his win over Syndrome.
After all he was only a clown.
Birthday Bandit sighed to himself ''God damn it, does Clown School not prepare you for this stuff''
Ah yes Clown School, he still remembers it like it was yesterday.
Probably his happiest moments before he took this path of crime.
Before he even was Birthday Bandit, before he even was B.B. the Clown.
He was known as Bob Baker.
He honestly wanted to be a circus clown, he always had a soft spot for animals in general, but well, he wasn't the best student to say the least.
So he never could really get into a circus to follow his dream.
No he had to settle with having to entertain ungrateful brats who didn't knew how good they had it.
Cake, candies, PRESENTS.
something he always wanted, but never could truly have, especially after that stage of his life went from childhood to being a moody teenager.
He could tell a joke, he could do party tricks, hell in general he could do the stuff any clown could do.
But what always bringed him down from his days in clown school was one and only one thing.
The words from his teacher never stopped weighing on him after all.
It was the big day, it was the duo routine act test day and Bob was more than ready to ace the thing and follow his dream.
He had studied it for weeks, he knews his lines and routine from start to finish.
It was suppossed to be his day.
It didn't matter what his teacher had told him before, he would ace this thing and be a circus clown.
But when the time came to do his act, well everything was going well at first, the comedy act was perfect.
But then came the physical act.
He though he had done it perfectly, the buzz zapper, the water gun flower, the pie to the face.
But when he was done with it, instead of recieving a congratulations, he recieved a whack on his head from a rubben chicken from his teacher.
Bob had fallen to the floor at that moment not believing what his teacher had done, he had done his routine perfectly.
As Bob looked up to his teacher face just one word went out of his lips ''Why?''
His teacher instead of looking angry, just looked at him with dissapointment ''Bob I though you would understand by now, but I see now that you never will''.
Before Bob could asks his teacher continued ''I have told you time and time again, a clown greatest weapon in his arsenal is their timing, stuff like a pie to the face is funny in their own way, but unless you do it with the right timing you will never make the joke reach it's true potential.''
Bob was still on the ground still trying to see what he had done wrong on his act, his lips oppened once again ''But it was perfect'' the clown in training said refuting his teacher.
''Perfect for any normal person, but for a clown? far from it'' his teacher refuted.
Bob wanted a demostration, a demostration of what his teacher truly meant.
His teacher sighed and then pointed to his own partner on the test to truly show him.
Bob didn't think much of it at first, he was sure his partner would just repeat what he had done.
But as if fate was betting againts him it happened.
His partner had started with the zapper, the teacher got zapped alright, but when the zap was going trough the sprinklers started going off soaking the teacher in water, making the effect of the shock a more lasting one on the man.
Then it was the water gun flower, after his partner had dosed off the teacher in more water suddenly a bird shat on his head when the waterflow ended, making it a lot more ironic and funny as the water of the gun would have helped the teacher clean itself.
Then it was the pie to the face.
God that would be burned on his memory for the rest of his life, when his partner threw the pie to the teacher face a gust of wind suddenly appeared throwing down the rake that the groundskeeper left in one of the walls to the floor.
What followed was the most hilarious thing ever as his teacher suddenly went backwards from the pie hitting his face, to then falling over thanks to the rake directly sinking into the manure the groundskeeper had been using to tend the gardens.
Everyone in the gardens laughed their ass off at the display even him.
But yet he never understood what his teacher meant.
Once the grades were passed he got a meassely C+, while his partner got an A+.
When Bob asked just what he did wrong his teacher told him this ''There is nothing wrong with you in of itself Bob, the problem is that you think instead of feeling it, as long as you do it you will never truly become a clown''
He never could understands these words, once he was out of school he had so many average grades he had to settle as a party clown instead of a circus clown.
As the memories fade away from Birthday Bandit there is just one more thing in his mind as his eyes recover some of it is color.
When he thinks back to the words of his teacher, he thinks back to the moment where he beat Syndrome.
The moment of that day, the timing of the cake was more than perfect as Syndrome face got hit by it and his cape ended up capture by the helicopter.
''Still dunno what you meant that day oldman, probably never will'' Birthday bandit gets up from his sitting place
''But I gotta prepare this place if that guy found me, doubt I will be able to run away'' Birthday bandit said to himself.
''Without counting that the locals may also join the manhunt, strange I should be scared shitless and yet I never felt more alive in my life'' B.B. said as his smile grew wider.
''So you want a party eh Syndrome? well you will get one, all of the people coming for me'' Bob said with renewed strenght.
''I will give you all a party you will never be able to forget''.
Don't you love writting dark horses? Contributing to the B.B. omakes here is my take, after all the man knows he is cornered by this point and that there is probably no escape from here.
But remember a cornered animal is the most dangerous prey you will hunt as they will do anything to keep themselves alive.
The man must have been down for days on end, but to get this close to dying no one knows where persons get that strenght when they do, either by adrenaline or something else.
Since the martial DC check will be what BB rolls it is obvious he will probably won't go down easily, he knows people are looking for him so not preparing would be in bad taste for a villain after all.
As for my take on his past and the timing thing.
Well obviously he must have abreviated his real name for his stage one, so hence Bob Baker.
I noticed that we also have Sideshow Bob late enough into writting that I didn't want to think of another name, also I now think it would be hilarious that the sideshow contesst with a clown who had the name Bob as his real name.
As for the timing thing, the toonforce is a real thing in these quests after all and clowns are humans who know they can tap into it.
After all iirc Eddie Valiant and his brother knew this perfectly due to them being clowns before becoming detectives.
So it is probably an open secret for the clown community that they can use the toonforce, but won't actively teach it so it won't fall on bad hands, just give you the basis of what you need to know.
Either way hope you guys enjoy this omake.
But remember a cornered animal is the most dangerous prey you will hunt as they will do anything to keep themselves alive.
The man must have been down for days on end, but to get this close to dying no one knows where persons get that strenght when they do, either by adrenaline or something else.
Since the martial DC check will be what BB rolls it is obvious he will probably won't go down easily, he knows people are looking for him so not preparing would be in bad taste for a villain after all.
As for my take on his past and the timing thing.
Well obviously he must have abreviated his real name for his stage one, so hence Bob Baker.
I noticed that we also have Sideshow Bob late enough into writting that I didn't want to think of another name, also I now think it would be hilarious that the sideshow contesst with a clown who had the name Bob as his real name.
As for the timing thing, the toonforce is a real thing in these quests after all and clowns are humans who know they can tap into it.
After all iirc Eddie Valiant and his brother knew this perfectly due to them being clowns before becoming detectives.
So it is probably an open secret for the clown community that they can use the toonforce, but won't actively teach it so it won't fall on bad hands, just give you the basis of what you need to know.
Either way hope you guys enjoy this omake.
...Yeah, if we catch the Guy, I will NOT vote to turn him over to Syndrome.
Look, I know he is a bit of a jerk, but his crimes sure as hell do NOT make him deserve whatever the Hell Syndrome will do to him. And it can't be pleasant. You know what that asshole is like.
Look, I know he is a bit of a jerk, but his crimes sure as hell do NOT make him deserve whatever the Hell Syndrome will do to him. And it can't be pleasant. You know what that asshole is like.
WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THIS FU- oh wait its been an day... and its now late, ok then
As i have said before on the discord, there is not really anything that we can do to stop syndrome getting him, we have nothing that is secure enough to protect him, no way to smuggle him out, nor should we given the latter gives burns an second shot at getting him, the bandit is already dead, he was dead the moment any king found him, all that we would do is delay his doom, and possibly give burns an second shot at the billion + risk syndrome targeting us in future, assuming we catch him the best option would be to hand him over, and give him the cowards way out (which the QMs vetod in discord, because it would let us have our cake and eat it too) so, just the hand over part.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
Well well well...this is interesting, not gonna lie. Consider us QMs intrigued. We declare this omake canon and for the reward we offer:
A +10 to an Abe Personal Action.
or
A Mystery Box!
Thanks for the omake! For those that have omake bonuses but havent used them dont forget to reply to my post in informational to confirm it, if not, you will miss your chance.
View: https://youtu.be/XsNIFD7TxwU?si=ZuObgltCnniPKPH9&t=7
It may be good it may be bad for us or all in between, but man you guys sure know how to make these ones fun, so getting this one
Mystery Boxes are always fascinating! I can't wait to see what happens as a result of this one!
Whatever else it may be, I think we're likely to get a show that we'll never forget!
Whatever else it may be, I think we're likely to get a show that we'll never forget!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Okey, gonna give one last warning and bit of spoiler, the mystery box is for the birthday Bandit himself, not gonna tell you what is does but it's related to him.
Think hard and long about this...or YOLO and respond immediately.
Knowing this you still want to go for it? Reply to this post to confirm and if you do so, no takebacks.
The +10 to abe personal is fine and all, we do need bonuses after all.
But where is the fun in that?
It may boost BB, but that also means every single party will prolly have a harder time getting his hands on him.
That includes Burns.
I may be leaving up to luck here really, but I really want to see what you guys have prepared for the mystery box, this quest has been so fun so far.
So what the hell lets give this clown the chance of going out with a bang even if it hinders us.
Let lady luck decide our fate as I choose the mystery box as my reward.
May the Random Number Goddess have mercy on our souls!
Lol. The QMs are great so I'm sure this prize will be entertaining if nothing else. And I do admire it when someone sticks to their guns, to an extent at least. If you want the mysterious box, I support your choice!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
You my good quester have guts. I like that!!!
I tip my sombrero mariachi to you.
Sleep tonight soundly knwoing that once rolls happen any potential shenanigans or clusterfucks that occur may have you as the direct cause of it. Feel proud.
Thanks for all the support on this quest! You guys are the best!
- Location
- Three feet to the left
- Pronouns
- He/They
I love how they gave the option to not take the mystery box. Like, who do they think is playing in this quest? Or any quest, really?
*shrug* I'm not on this Quests Discord anyway, so I wouldn't have known about that. Sorry if I opened up wounds or something like that.
I still stand by what I said, though. This is a matter of principle to me, not feasibility.
Not that any of this will actually matter unless we are the ones who catch him, though. If not, this whole discussion is moot, anyway.
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The Spymaster of Springfield (canon!)
Omake: The Spymaster of Springfield
Abe didn't spend enough time rooting out spies, so he didn't really understand the nuance of it, in the Finale's humble opinion. Some days you needed to get in people's faces and ask hard questions, some days you needed to disguise yourself and infiltrate a party, some days you needed to quickly and carefully read hundreds or thousands of documents that were deliberately obsfucated... all of those and more were important tasks, even if the Finale preferred when he could delegate them to interns or the like.
But for all the decades of experience the Finale had in all kinds of spying, his favorite days in counterintelligence were those where he got paid to sit around and do nothing.
Even with all the trouble he and Mona were going to in doing thorough background checks, reviewing the hidden and not-so-hidden camera footage of the Nuclear Plant, and a few dozen other things ranging from sitting in a sniper's nest near the top of the tower in a blatant fashion to literally walking into Abe's son's workstation to poke him with a stick (the Finale had his reasons and the peace offering of a donut made the young man forget all about it)... the Finale never let his more wide-ranging activities to protect the town lapse, even for an evening.
Which was why he was taking his "day off" to go feed the birds on a public park bench, disguised as a homeless bum.
It was nice. Watching kids play on a rickety jungle gym, parents exhausted from working too hard, and all the while, keeping an eagle eye out for things that didn't fit while taking in the rejuvinating sunlight. Why, he barely felt the need to eat when he got enough rest in the sun, like the warmth of the rejuvinating rays were enough to keep him feeling young again!
And the local wildlife, oh, they were a treat, too! The Finale was careful to have the newest in a very long line of bird companions, usually raised from the offspring of his old birds, hiding in a way that wouldn't easily be spotted by anybody eying him; even with the well trained bird watching the sky for hostile drones and unfriendly criminals looking to bother a "poor old man", he couldn't help but chuckle at the way the bird courted local birds as nature intended, and perhaps one day soon he might help raise another generation of eyes in the sky- but not today, no sir.
He was too busy making friends with the squirrels.
Seeds for birds, nuts for small mammals, little dried bacon treats for wandering dogs both feral and domestic, the Finale always kept a little treat on hand to pacify the friendly wildlife, and just because he was in a city didn't change that there was wildlife nearby. The wild bunnies that stopped by were proof enough of that, and here he was, having somehow managed to forget how well they did in cities with enough greenery in them! Still, a few nuts had the little critters chittering in thanks, and he settled back to review the area again.
There was a man who shouldn't be here, watching the park.
The Finale didn't so much as let a single facial muscle twitch. He was too good for that, no matter how sudden the appearance of the unwelcome spectator. His sniper's eyes took the man in slowly, noting every detail: a local team's baseball cap, dark sunglasses, hawaiian shirt over a wife beater top, cargo shorts... and sneakers that had been broken in, but were still too new and top of the line to ignore. Those, and the expensive watch, were the most damning pieces of evidence.
Them, and the way the man watched the children too closely. FAR too closely, moreso when you'd been nearby for the entire day like the Finale had and knew who every child here belonged to.
The man didn't belong. The Finale wasn't sure off hand just yet if it was because he was one of those Russians getting upset after the kids had been freed from the camps, or if he was a human trafficker, or even if he was a monster wearing human skin who wanted a child for any number of reasons himself.
In the end, it didn't matter. The Finale was protecting Springfield, and though often times he relied on visiting homeless camps to listen to their rumor mill, or putting up just a handful of hidden cameras in public spaces that were just too far to visit on a regular enough basis... today he was here in person, and children were in danger again. He alone would more than suffice.
He wouldn't kill the man, of course. Not nearly enough evidence of evil wrongdoing, and he preferred tranquilizers anyhow, nowadays. For now, he didn't even plan to confront the stranger, not unless he actually did something. No, he was a sniper, and all he had to do was watch.
Not for long, today. One of the kids fell off the jungle gym, and started crying loudly. Everybody's attention went to the kid, and the man, bold as brass, started walking towards another young boy that had wandered away to play in the grass, pulling up strands of it with not a care in the world for anything else.
The Finale rose slowly, his movements encouraging the birds, squirrels and rabbits to give him space without startling, without making a loud fuss; the man wasn't getting away no matter what, and if he so much as pretended to harm the child, the Finale had a tranquilizer pistol at the ready under his coat and though he was a sniper first, his quickdraw had more years of practice behind it than the average retired veteran had ever lived in the first place.
The Finale knew the fastest routes in and out of the park, of course. He wasn't too regular in his visits to them, but he never let a full week go by without taking the time to sit and watch the world go by somewhere in the city, and that meant he knew the place like the back of his hand. He was dressed like any other homeless man, appeared weak by any metric from the outside, and with just a few steps, he'd put himself in the most likely path to bring this disaster to an end just as soon as it began.
As much as he wanted there to be an actual crime to report, he'd still just break cover and shoot the guy if the kid was in any real danger... but he wanted the man to go down hard all the same. Which meant he had to do what he did best, and wait.
It happened like clockwork, and exactly as he'd seen a hundred times or more.
The target went for the kidnapping, picking up the young boy and turning to run his way. The boy, too startled to react, didn't scream until a few seconds had passed. All the parents turned to see the new nightmare unfold. The boy's mother screamed in horrified agony as her own child was abducted right before her eyes. A tragedy, nothing anybody here could have done.
Except an old man, looking as shocked as anyone else, stood in the way, his hands up like he was surrendering.
A crow flew past the would-be kidnapper's face, the intelligent bird having understood the circumstances and chosen to intervene on the kindly old man's behalf, in thanks for the seeds. A couple of squirrels risked their lives tumbling between the man's feet, fouling his footing as he blinked at the feathered menace that squawked in his face. And an old man, forged in the hellish forge of more wars than should ever have been fought, pulled the child safely from the man's arms as he passed, looking for all the world like it had happened by accident.
The Finale fell carefully, artfully, tumbling down to trip the man while protecting the child. His legs locked up with the kidnapper's own, and with a twist, the Finale slammed the other man's skull into the unforgiving ground. Then, for good measure, he let the child go and stabbed a tiny needle into the man's side, quiet and deadly as a mosquito bite.
The kidnapper wouldn't wake for hours, and unless they specifically screened him for esoteric poisons, nobody would chaulk it up to anything but a concussion.
The Finale made sure to mumble crazed nothings as he disentangled himself from the criminal, only glancing up long enough to see that at least one of the other parents had called nine one one. Another glance verified that the animals had all gone, which surprised him a little.
Part of him had almost expected the bunnies to offer solace to the young boy, to ward off any potential nightmares. Ah, well. He'd probably need to deepen his connection to nature if he wanted to ask around for anything that serious from otherwise wild animals, moreso because it kept them too close to humans other than himself.
He might practically be one with nature some days, but few others were.
The Finale politely ignored the arguments, insults and thank-yous offered by the park visitors, and hobbled off, overplaying his infirm appearance. He'd done a good deed here and verified that nobody else was infiltrating the area. Next up, he planned to sit near the entrance to the local supermarket, not far from the power plant. If he was lucky, maybe he would spot an unfamiliar face walking out with things they shouldn't be buying. Could be dried foods for a stakeout, or chemicals that might be mixed in just the right way...
Or maybe he would just enjoy relaxing in the sun while the local wildlife begged him for food. That was always nice.
Days where he didn't do anything at all were the best in the world.
Abe didn't spend enough time rooting out spies, so he didn't really understand the nuance of it, in the Finale's humble opinion. Some days you needed to get in people's faces and ask hard questions, some days you needed to disguise yourself and infiltrate a party, some days you needed to quickly and carefully read hundreds or thousands of documents that were deliberately obsfucated... all of those and more were important tasks, even if the Finale preferred when he could delegate them to interns or the like.
But for all the decades of experience the Finale had in all kinds of spying, his favorite days in counterintelligence were those where he got paid to sit around and do nothing.
Even with all the trouble he and Mona were going to in doing thorough background checks, reviewing the hidden and not-so-hidden camera footage of the Nuclear Plant, and a few dozen other things ranging from sitting in a sniper's nest near the top of the tower in a blatant fashion to literally walking into Abe's son's workstation to poke him with a stick (the Finale had his reasons and the peace offering of a donut made the young man forget all about it)... the Finale never let his more wide-ranging activities to protect the town lapse, even for an evening.
Which was why he was taking his "day off" to go feed the birds on a public park bench, disguised as a homeless bum.
It was nice. Watching kids play on a rickety jungle gym, parents exhausted from working too hard, and all the while, keeping an eagle eye out for things that didn't fit while taking in the rejuvinating sunlight. Why, he barely felt the need to eat when he got enough rest in the sun, like the warmth of the rejuvinating rays were enough to keep him feeling young again!
And the local wildlife, oh, they were a treat, too! The Finale was careful to have the newest in a very long line of bird companions, usually raised from the offspring of his old birds, hiding in a way that wouldn't easily be spotted by anybody eying him; even with the well trained bird watching the sky for hostile drones and unfriendly criminals looking to bother a "poor old man", he couldn't help but chuckle at the way the bird courted local birds as nature intended, and perhaps one day soon he might help raise another generation of eyes in the sky- but not today, no sir.
He was too busy making friends with the squirrels.
Seeds for birds, nuts for small mammals, little dried bacon treats for wandering dogs both feral and domestic, the Finale always kept a little treat on hand to pacify the friendly wildlife, and just because he was in a city didn't change that there was wildlife nearby. The wild bunnies that stopped by were proof enough of that, and here he was, having somehow managed to forget how well they did in cities with enough greenery in them! Still, a few nuts had the little critters chittering in thanks, and he settled back to review the area again.
There was a man who shouldn't be here, watching the park.
The Finale didn't so much as let a single facial muscle twitch. He was too good for that, no matter how sudden the appearance of the unwelcome spectator. His sniper's eyes took the man in slowly, noting every detail: a local team's baseball cap, dark sunglasses, hawaiian shirt over a wife beater top, cargo shorts... and sneakers that had been broken in, but were still too new and top of the line to ignore. Those, and the expensive watch, were the most damning pieces of evidence.
Them, and the way the man watched the children too closely. FAR too closely, moreso when you'd been nearby for the entire day like the Finale had and knew who every child here belonged to.
The man didn't belong. The Finale wasn't sure off hand just yet if it was because he was one of those Russians getting upset after the kids had been freed from the camps, or if he was a human trafficker, or even if he was a monster wearing human skin who wanted a child for any number of reasons himself.
In the end, it didn't matter. The Finale was protecting Springfield, and though often times he relied on visiting homeless camps to listen to their rumor mill, or putting up just a handful of hidden cameras in public spaces that were just too far to visit on a regular enough basis... today he was here in person, and children were in danger again. He alone would more than suffice.
He wouldn't kill the man, of course. Not nearly enough evidence of evil wrongdoing, and he preferred tranquilizers anyhow, nowadays. For now, he didn't even plan to confront the stranger, not unless he actually did something. No, he was a sniper, and all he had to do was watch.
Not for long, today. One of the kids fell off the jungle gym, and started crying loudly. Everybody's attention went to the kid, and the man, bold as brass, started walking towards another young boy that had wandered away to play in the grass, pulling up strands of it with not a care in the world for anything else.
The Finale rose slowly, his movements encouraging the birds, squirrels and rabbits to give him space without startling, without making a loud fuss; the man wasn't getting away no matter what, and if he so much as pretended to harm the child, the Finale had a tranquilizer pistol at the ready under his coat and though he was a sniper first, his quickdraw had more years of practice behind it than the average retired veteran had ever lived in the first place.
The Finale knew the fastest routes in and out of the park, of course. He wasn't too regular in his visits to them, but he never let a full week go by without taking the time to sit and watch the world go by somewhere in the city, and that meant he knew the place like the back of his hand. He was dressed like any other homeless man, appeared weak by any metric from the outside, and with just a few steps, he'd put himself in the most likely path to bring this disaster to an end just as soon as it began.
As much as he wanted there to be an actual crime to report, he'd still just break cover and shoot the guy if the kid was in any real danger... but he wanted the man to go down hard all the same. Which meant he had to do what he did best, and wait.
It happened like clockwork, and exactly as he'd seen a hundred times or more.
The target went for the kidnapping, picking up the young boy and turning to run his way. The boy, too startled to react, didn't scream until a few seconds had passed. All the parents turned to see the new nightmare unfold. The boy's mother screamed in horrified agony as her own child was abducted right before her eyes. A tragedy, nothing anybody here could have done.
Except an old man, looking as shocked as anyone else, stood in the way, his hands up like he was surrendering.
A crow flew past the would-be kidnapper's face, the intelligent bird having understood the circumstances and chosen to intervene on the kindly old man's behalf, in thanks for the seeds. A couple of squirrels risked their lives tumbling between the man's feet, fouling his footing as he blinked at the feathered menace that squawked in his face. And an old man, forged in the hellish forge of more wars than should ever have been fought, pulled the child safely from the man's arms as he passed, looking for all the world like it had happened by accident.
The Finale fell carefully, artfully, tumbling down to trip the man while protecting the child. His legs locked up with the kidnapper's own, and with a twist, the Finale slammed the other man's skull into the unforgiving ground. Then, for good measure, he let the child go and stabbed a tiny needle into the man's side, quiet and deadly as a mosquito bite.
The kidnapper wouldn't wake for hours, and unless they specifically screened him for esoteric poisons, nobody would chaulk it up to anything but a concussion.
The Finale made sure to mumble crazed nothings as he disentangled himself from the criminal, only glancing up long enough to see that at least one of the other parents had called nine one one. Another glance verified that the animals had all gone, which surprised him a little.
Part of him had almost expected the bunnies to offer solace to the young boy, to ward off any potential nightmares. Ah, well. He'd probably need to deepen his connection to nature if he wanted to ask around for anything that serious from otherwise wild animals, moreso because it kept them too close to humans other than himself.
He might practically be one with nature some days, but few others were.
The Finale politely ignored the arguments, insults and thank-yous offered by the park visitors, and hobbled off, overplaying his infirm appearance. He'd done a good deed here and verified that nobody else was infiltrating the area. Next up, he planned to sit near the entrance to the local supermarket, not far from the power plant. If he was lucky, maybe he would spot an unfamiliar face walking out with things they shouldn't be buying. Could be dried foods for a stakeout, or chemicals that might be mixed in just the right way...
Or maybe he would just enjoy relaxing in the sun while the local wildlife begged him for food. That was always nice.
Days where he didn't do anything at all were the best in the world.
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MrWealthman
Filthy Capitalist
- Location
- Deep in the piles of cash.
Plus this is a Simpsons quest we have to take the box it is our moral duty.
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Yeah, if this was a Xanatos quest or something we'd (theoretically) have to be more responsible. But we knew what we were getting into.