"Sooooo…" Doofenshmirtz trailed off hesitantly. "What's next? Doofania Island? Nemesis Island?"
"I believe we will need to navigate that tangle ahead to continue." Technor replied.
The approach to Backstory Island saw the Drusselstinian houses and bavarian ramshackle chic of its cobblestone roads going right up to the edge of the vast chasm that Backstory Island hung over. There was no path forwards but to push through the tangle.
"What's down that giant pit, anyway? I hope it's not some abstract metaphorical representation of how I have a hole in my brain or something."
Dreamfinder shook his head. "Ah. That would be the Memory Dump. When a memory or idea is forgotten, it is, metaphorically, thrown down there. Slowly the memory will fade from your thoughts until it disappears, impossible to recall again."
Doofenshmirtz looked out over the vast expanse of the Memory Dump, stretching out for… well, 'miles' probably didn't apply in here, but it certainly looked like miles. "Oh, okay. So most of that junk is stuff I've forgotten from childhood, right? Nothing important is going down there?"
"Well, it depends on what you mean by important! If you've ever wondered what happened when you've forgotten where you put your car keys, well… aheh, there you are!" Dreamfinder declared.
Doofenshmirtz passed through the tangle of half-timbered houses as if by memory, which was… perhaps not as inaccurate as it appeared. Buildings were haphazard and strangely built, with additions, towers and fortlike structures being built out of nowhere, at angles and with rickety supports that by all rights should not have been possible.
"I guess it's not that surprising my memories should be all Drusselstinian." Doofenshmirtz rambled. "I grew up there! So many of my worst memories are tied to it. Like that kickball field." He said, passing by the empty field with its dull, sepia grass. "Or that wetness maker. Or that giant building-sized barrel! That… wait a minute. I don't remember a barrel-based backstory. Not in Drusselstein, anyway, there was that one with the Danville Vintner's Association…"
Suddenly, the barrel exploded into light and sound. Before it had been a mostly inert thing, a simple wooden cask with a few holes cut out that could have been doors or windows. Now a light was on in the building, and the sound of furious clacking could be heard from within.
"Oooh, I wonder what that is!" Doofenshmirtz said, rushing off towards the building.
"Ahhh, it does my heart good to see such childlike wonder." Dreamfinder chuffed happily. "Especially considering all it's had to survive."
"The doctor is a walking contradiction." Technor replied, slowly hovering after the man in question.
Inside of the barrel, dozens and dozens of workstations had been set up. Each one consisted of a simple wooden desk and chair that reminded Doof of his childhood grammar school, and each was topped with an old-fashioned typewriter. On each typewriter, a chimpanzee in a DEI standard issue labcoat was clacking away with reckless abandon. At the front of the room, a single ape sat behind a much larger desk, dressed in a large, archaic doublet with a massive ruffle about the neck. His black fur puffed out along his face in the shape of a manicured goatee and neatly trimmed beard, and fell in tousled locks behind his head. With one hand upon its chest and another raised in the air, the chimp declaimed in unnecessarily flowery tones:
"You see, Technor the Mechanical Man, back in Danville an unspecified number of years ago, I-" No, no no no. That won't do at all. Needs be Doofania, besides. 'Back in Doofania'? Agh, all is still downright bad, I find."
"Oook." One of the other chimps said reproachfully.
"I know it's not Shakespeare! It's Goethe! Stop interrupting my artistic flow! What do you want, iambic pentameter?"
"Waaaaaaait a second!" Doofenshmirtz declared, walking up the line of desk to the sound of curious 'ook's. "Are you my Backstory Writer? I'd know that sort of rambling anywhere, because it's what I do all the time!"
"Oh odd's bodkins." The Backstory Writer, for that is what he was, minced his oath as Heinz Doofenshmirtz came barreling down his barrel. "Why are you here?"
"I don't really know! One minute I was freezing myself in my latest inator, then the next thing you know I wake up in a metaphorical representation of my own headspace as my own Ego and parade down Memory Lane! Literally! Why are any of us here, again? Other than the whole 'take a look inside my headspace' thing."
Far from being nonplussed by the stream of consciousness, the Writer replied in kind. "Ah yes, our latest Inator, the On-Ice Inator. You see Heinz Doofenshmirtz, back in Drusselstein, in the days of our youth, our father would always demand we be the lawn gnome."
"Oh yeah! I remember that one, it's a classic. 'Don't Move! Don't Move!'"
"Yes! But one day, he did not say 'Don't Move'. He said "Freeze!"
===
"Einfrieren!"
===
"Oh yeah!" You agree as the flashback concludes. "Ever since then, I never really did do much with freezing. Well, except for the freeze-inator. And the Giant Robotic Penguin Icy Freeze Your Socks Off Breath-inator. Aaaaaand the Hot Dog Vendor Revenge-inator. And sort of the Abominable-inator, I guess. But none of those ever applied to me until now!"
The Writer picks up almost the moment Doofenshmirtz stops. "And we thought: 'oh, he's being metaphorical, right?' but no, it turned out there was a blizzard that night, and-"
"And not even Kenny came by, and I'd lost Balloony at that point, and-and this was before the Ocelots so I didn't know how to go into hibernation yet-"
"-Father was so pleased when he discovered the block of ice we were trapped in he hired a traveling sculptor to immortalize our frostbitten agony, which he then placed on the other side of the doorway as a compliment to ourself-"
"I never understood why he didn't buy a new lawn gnome with the money-"
"And then-"
"And then-"
"-but you see-"
"You remember that, backstory, don't you?"
"-It was a Tuesday."
"I think they're trapped." Technor said after a long pause.
"Nothing for it." Dreamfinder said. "Excuse me. Excuse me!"
"Eh?" Doofenshmirtz asked, snapping out of the conversation. "What?"
"How dare you sir!" The ape ruffled his ruffle. "I was creating art!"
"Ah, yes." Dreamfinder replied awkwardly. "I apologize for interrupting you, but I cannot imagine you would want a performance of your… masterworks before they are finished."
"Hrmm." The Backstory Writer prevaricated. "I suppose you have a point. If I help you along to wherever it is you are going, will you get out of my hair?"
"Yes." Technor replied immediately.
"Ook!" One of the chimps suggested.
"No, you can't guide them. They can't even understand you. Now get back to work banging randomly on that typewriter! What do I pay you for, anyway?"
"Ook ook ook ook." The ape replied. "Ook ook ook-ook ook-ook. Ook ook ook ook-ook ook-ook-ook ook-ook-ook ook ook ook–ook-ook-ook ook ook-ook ook-ook ook ook."
"One more crack like that, and you're out of here." The Backstory Writer snarled.
"Oook!" the chimpanzee screeched, fleeing back to its desk and redoubling its efforts.
"Now then, allow me to lead you through the rest of this tangle."
The Backstory Writer swept out of the room, seemingly inattentive to whether the others followed him or not. His sure footsteps forced the others to half-jog to keep up, except for Technor of course who simply puttered faster. After only a minute or two of walking he emerged onto the other side of the Memory Banks, waving an arm in a broad and sweeping vision.
"There we are. Now, be on your way. All you need do is to avoid the-"
A loud, electronic whine interrupted the simian.
"Oh no." The ape said.
"What?" Doofenshmirtz asked. "Is it some sort of representation of my traumatic backstories or something?"
"Worse!" The Writer declared. "It's the-"
An explosion halted the ape in its tracks as an entire row of memory-houses burst into flame. A moment later, the very ground beneath them crumbled, massive chunks of rock and wrecked buildings falling into the bottomless void. The dim, fading light of a massive energy beam looked like it came from one of the nearby islands, having carved through the earth with reckless abandon.
"Oh my." Dreamfinder sounded less than jovial for the first time since he had entered the mindscape.
"What the heck was that?!" Doofenshmirtz demanded. "It's tearing up my mind palace! I- I can call it a mind palace, right? I know it's not really a palace, more like a suburb? A burgh? Just not a village, I don't think I can stand having a mind village."
"Get down you fool!" The ape replied, taking cover behind the nearest doonkleberry bush. "It's the Spite Beam!"
"Do you mean the Spite Beam-Inator?" Doofenshmirtz asked.
"Aaaghh." The simian groaned. "It may originate from Inator Island, but it is ever present. Its whims are unknowable, its targets random, and it absolutely will not stop, ever, until the subject is destroyed… no matter what else is in the way."
"Now I'm no expert on the mindscape, but this looks kinda bad." Doofenshmirtz commented as another row of houses crumbled into the widening pit.
"It is." Dreamfinder said without mirth. "It appears as though the representation of your spite is so powerful that it will actively destroy your long-term memories."
"I think I'd remember something like that." Doofenshmirtz replied as another street (coincidentally, the one containing his memories of the Doofania Zoo Orangutan exhibit) crashed into the void.
"Your only hope is to get far enough away from it that it forgets you exist!" The Writer yelled, giving Technor a push hard enough to jostle him on his hover-chaise. "Go, quickly, that way!"
"Wouldn't it be easier to go the other way, back towards your barrel?" Doofenshmirtz asked.
"No, no! Absolutely not!" The Writer panicked. "Go on, get out of here, now."
"Never fear Doctor, I've faced worse than this! Come along, we'll lose it in the alleys!" Dreamfinder called out, leading the trio in a mad dash away from the monkey.
"And I'm not a monkey!" The dream construct declared as it faded into the distance.
Doofenshmirtz and Technor followed Dreamfinder as he ducked under a collapsing support beam and dashed off towards the chaotic mess of machinery that was Inator Island, hovering in a jumbled mess over the void. Doofenshmirtz took three steps before tumbling headfirst over a squat boxy object, painted purple and green and embedded with speakers.
"Hey! I recognize this! This is my Whale Translator-inator, I don't know where-"
The Spite Beam turned around and fired again, burning up another chunk of buildings as it traced across the Memory Pit, carving into the edge of Inator Island.
"Doctor! While this is quite fascinating, I do think it would be better to wait until we're not in mortal peril?" Dreamfinder asked in between puffs of breath.
"Hey, I can multitask!"
Dreamfinder chuckled. "My, but you are an imaginative one."
The Spite Beam's effect on Inator Island was quite literally electric. Yellowish electricity surged through the machines gathered within, shorting many of them out and forcing others to fire off purely at random, summoning imaginary meatballs and sausages that crashed down on the island like meteors. A gigantic mechanical egg with a top hat and curly mustache fired off a beam at one of the hot dogs, causing it to spontaneously develop limbs, an evil mustache of its own, and the ability to vocalize in a screeching roar. Doofenshmirtz screamed as the giant hot dog monster chased him through a labyrinth of his own devices, the narrow paths twisting and turning between dials and gauges, some of them separated from the whole, others as part of larger machines.
"Aaaaaghhh! Why is my psyche so deranged and unpleasant!" Doofenshmirtz declared as he sword-fought the bratwurst. "And so targeted at me, specifically! Why is the Spite Beam firing at me, anyway?" Doof asked as a swarm of purple hairless cats launched themselves at his face.
"Perhaps it is some deep-set internalized issue you have not confronted." Technor began.
"Or perhaps it does not like the color of your shoes!" Dreamfinder declared. "It could be either, or both. Such is the nature of whimsy! Not always to the better, unfortunately."
Another sweep of the Spite Beam took several more memory houses and half a dozen inators with it as it passed increasingly close to Doofenshmirtz's heels. "Quick, everyone, under there!" he insisted, pointing to an overturned speedboat lying amidst the scrap.
"Hey, wait a minute! This is my BO-AT! That's not an inator! What's it doing over here?!"
"Doctor, I really insist that you do not look a gift horse in the mouth!" Technor said as the three hid under the construct, slowly but surely using it to move away from the Spite Beam and onto the other side of the pit.
"Uuuugh… you know, I never really thought of my inators as being this… unpleasant to experience." Doofnehsmirtz said as the three of them slowly trudged across the landscape under cover of BO-AT. "I mean there was the Copy-Inator, which was weird, and the Ugly-Inator, which was just kinda insulting, buuut… wow." Doofenshmirtz paused in introspection for half a second. "It's weird to see it from this side of the… Ugh, whatever. Can we drop the BO-AT now? My arms are getting tired. Despite them not existing!"
"I cannot hear it anymore. I must assume we are safe." Dreamfinder replied, and as one the three heaved the heavy schooner off their heads.
"Okay, what's up next?" Doofenshmirtz asked, optimism beginning to give way to trepidation.
A peal of thunder crackled overhead, and that trepidation melted immediately into its customary annoyance as Doofenshmirtz threw up his hands.
"Oh great. So it's not enough my brain is dark and dreary, it actually needs to be a literal dark and stormy night. Greea-"
Doofenshmirtz's whining was cut off with a wet smack as something large and pink landed on his face and, a moment later, the ground, staining his labcoat with unpleasant juice.
"Is it just me," Technor asked, "Or does the storm front above our head bear an uncanny resemblance to a cerebellum?"
Doofenshmirtz looked down to see a large chunk of grey matter still jiggling from its impact.
"The concept of wintertime karma weaponized to inflict mass emotional trauma by showing your enemies they're on the naughty list!" Doofenshmirtz declared. "...Wait, what was that? Aside from a good idea, I should write that down. Last Christmas was way too touchy-feely."
"A Brainstorm!" Dreamfinder declared authoritatively even as the cloud rumbled. "Unsurprising it should spend most of its time over the island populated by your inventions. Though I imagine its creative sparks occasionally travel elsewhere."
Another brain landed on Technor's chaise, eliciting an unwilling "Automatic paperwork filer!" from his hovering form.
Doofenshmirtz attempted to cover his head. "That's neat and all, but do we have an option to avoid being-" splat "-Hey Technor have you ever considered rerouting your Ego module? I can't see anything going wrong if you do. …argh! Stop giving me ideas!"
"If you would allow one more, perhaps it would be a good idea to seek shelter." Dreamfinder suggested, deftly dodging a brainstem as it plummeted to earth.
"Well that's easy, we'll just go ahead and go into one of these memory-house thingies." Doofenshmirtz said, swinging open a door at random.
===
"And congratulations Ms. Doofenshmirtz!" The sepia-toned lawyer exclaimed. "You're officially divorced."
"Wait, Ms. Doofenshmirtz?" An equally-monochrome Doofenshmirtz replied.
"I'm keeping the name." Charlene said.
===
The present day Doofenshmirtz slammed the door shut.
"Next island it is!"
An unpleasantly squelchy and oddly inspired journey later, the trio arrived before a massive pair of burnt-out statues, both of them vaguely humanoid but their features indistinct. The rest of the island consisted of a coniferous forest surrounding a small cul-de-sac, the looping street itself dominated by an old-fashioned Bavarian-style house and a far more modern apartment. In the forest behind the house a pack of ocelots were milling about, and the indistinct form of a teenage girl wandered past a window to the bedroom.
Doofenshmirtz beamed in sudden happiness. "I know this one too! It must be Family Island! See, those giant statues are my awful parents after I cut them out of my life, Vanessa sweetie is up in her apartment there, and even my ocelot family is around! And over there…" he gestured to a separate but distinct area that floated calmly thirty feet away, with a single wood-paneled house from the suburbs. While still vaguely associated with the rest of Family Island it was impossible to reach. In a word, it was distinct, separated… divorced.
Doofenshmirtz frowned again. "Oh. That's Charlene's house. Good to see she's doing… fine…"
Doof turned away to see scaffolding being constructed on the side of the island, holding a miniature representation of city hall and a bronze statue of Roger. "Huh. I guess he's here on a trial basis? We're still not best friends or anything even though we got most of that awkwardness worked out. Fair enough! So as far as I'm concerned, a temporary annex on the side of my metaphorical mental palace is fine by me."
"Well!" Dreamfinder clapped his hands together even as he took the opportunity to rest under the great eve of the entranceway. "I'm glad to see that this particular island has a… mostly positive outlook."
"Hey, what do you mean?" Doofenshmirtz groused. "The other islands weren't that bad!"
Technor made a noise in the back of his robotic throat.
"All right all right, I'm a mess. Whatever! Look, look around! Look at all these functional familial relationships! Only a couple of them burned to cinders! Justifiably even. As far as I'm concerned, this is excellent progress."
"Hello, Father!"
"Eh?"
Doofenshmirtz ambled slowly to the edge of the island. "Oh, Norm. What are you doing down there?"
"Clinging onto a thin branch on the side of Family Island, dad!" The robot replied, a single metal arm indeed gripped around a small and shuddering root.
"I…" Doofenshmirtz faltered for a moment before suddenly springing back. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of a few memories falling into the Dump reverberated across the mindscape. "Well, you should consider yourself lucky that you even get that branch! Do you know how I had to cling onto my family home back in the day?! With my bare hands! Look over there, you can literally see the metaphorical representation of my childhood! You see that six meter deep hole my father made me dig? I had to cling to the side of it for hours! No branches!"
"Shouldn't we help him?" Dreamfinder asked, looking down at the robot in concern.
"Oh he's fine, he's probably been like that for months."
"I have, father!"
"You have rocket legs, Norm! Use them!" Doofenshmirtz declared. "Okay, one more Island left before we're done looking at my mind, right? C'mon, let's go, hurry up. I have a very busy schedule being frozen in ice that I need to get back to."
Before either of the others could stop him, Doofenshmirtz marched off across the landscape, last dregs of the Brainstorm still dropping chunks of cerebrum as he went. He walked in silence, no longer chattering about each new wonder or detail he saw. His face was set in a frown, his hunch even more pronounced than usual. In fact, it's likely Doofenshmirtz would have walked in silence all the way to the final island had the sound of ominous chanting not risen in the distance.
"Is that the sound of ominous chanting rising in the distance?" Technor asked.
"And in that it violates the consensus…" one voice called out.
"And in that it violates the consensus…" another answered.
"We cast it away!"
As Doofenshmirtz crested another rise, he took in a strange sight, even by his own standards. A small metal promontory stood out over the vast pit of the Memory Dump, hanging precariously over oblivion. Two figures stood on the platform, each oddly amorphous blobs in shades of purple and blue. Small lights played inside their translucent forms, like neurons firing. Each, however, were dressed in the uniform of a lawn gnome, false beard and all. As Doofenshmirtz approached, they pulled forth a single orb, tinged with blue, and unceremoniously threw it over the platform's edge. It tinkled as it slammed into the side of the pit over and over on its way down.
"Well, there's that taken care of." the first blob declared.
"Yep." the second replied. A companionable silence filled the air.
"..Hey Grove." The first began again, after a moment.
"Yeah?"
"You ever wonder why we do all this? Bulldozin' any building with memories that cause cognitive dissonance and then throw those memories down the Memory Pit?"
"Well, it's probably just the whole thing with the chant right?"
"You mean the keeping consensus stability thing?"
"Yeah."
"...Sounds like a load of bull."
"...yeah."
Dreamfinder, to his credit, paused for only a moment before pressing onwards. "Well, hello there."
"Ohp! Intruders!" the first one said, immediately taking off his conical hat and wielding it as a weapon. "Stay back!"
"Wagon, Wagon, hold on." The other soothed, slowly lowering the first gnome's arm. "Don't you recognize the other guy?"
"What the pharmacist?"
"No, Technor!"
"Ohhhhh!" the first one said as realization dawned. "These three must be on the level then." The gnome then sidled up to Technor.
"Hey. Hey. You ever considered a tank body?"
"Uhhhh…." Technor trailed off.
"And who're these other two?"
"Really. Really." Doofenshmirtz smoldered.
"What, do we know you or something?" The second gnome asked.
"Ahem." Dreamfinder politely interrupted. "This would just so happen to be Heinz Doofenshmirtz."
"Wait, what?" The other gnome asked. "That… shouldn't be possible."
"Anything is possible if you believe in it, my good man!"
"Uh huh." the gnome replied, unconvinced.
"So, what brings you to the abstract personification of your own thoughts?" The second gnome asked.
"Agony, apparently." Doofenshmirtz groused.
"What else is new?" The gnome replied.
"We're simply taking a tour of the mindscape at the moment. Seeing what we can see." Dreamfinder explained.
"Have you met the monkey yet?"
"Unfortunately." Technor grumbled.
"Right. In that case it's really just DEIsland left. You guys looking for a guide?"
"That could prove useful…" Technor trailed off. "We've gotten lost more than once."
"Yeah yeah, ok." Doofenshmirtz replied. "Lead on, I guess."
"Well hold on! If we're gonna help out, we should at least vote on it." One of the gnomes declared.
"Wait, vote?" Doofenshmirtz asked. "I didn't expect my brain to be a democracy."
"Oh yeah, we vote all the time. Us Neuron gnomes are responsible for what memories and ideas get all the way to Headquarters, along with all the rest of the real work keeping a place like this running. Why, sometimes we all just vote on what memories to send up to headquarters next, no matter what they ask for!" The gnome chuckled. "Heh. Hey Wagon, Remember that time we named his robot COFFEE while he was unconscious?"
"I wasn't there for that. I think."
"Well I wanted to use that original idea with the Lumper thing, shame we put that in the recycle bin halfway through, but it was still pretty funny. At least we didn't go with the anime protagonist."
"It wasn't anime you philistine, it was western animation!" a voice cried out from the Memory Stacks. "And it would have been great!"
"We caught two minutes of it one time when Vanessa was watching it! Let it go."
"Was it us who did Mad Science?" The remaining original gnome asked.
"I'm not taking the blame for that one."
At this point… you arrived. All of you.
Dozens of Neuron Gnomes streamed into the clearing around the Walk of Self-Delusion, forming a veritable swarm around the three visitors.
"Ooh, ooh! Once he thaws out, how about we send the Tripledent Gum commercial?"
"Oh come on, we're not that heartless."
"Ok, how about 'It Won't Stop Flushing' again?"
"Brilliant!"
"Doctor Mercurial." Technor said quietly.
"Ah, yes?" The Doctor replied, leaning down.
"Do you think perhaps it might be wise to convince these… creatures to cease throwing those of Doofenshmirtz's memories that… disagree with his worldviews into the giant pit?"
"Hrmm." Dreamfinder replied. "It could be possible. But I can't guarantee exactly what effect it would have on the man. I doubt it will drive him mad or anything of the sort, but this sort of metaphor would be… complicated, in how it eventually manifests. At the very least, we shouldn't without asking."
Ironically, even as those two whispered, two of you slipped to the side as well.
"Hey, do you think I could tell him that thing? You know, about Xanatos?" one of you asked another.
"What's that about David?" Doofenshmirtz asked.
"Nothing!" The gnome immediately yelled. "Ok look. I know it would maybe strain things a little, but we're being used! It's so obvious! This is a golden opportunity to stop flinging all these thoughts into the Pit and just tell him!"
"Will everybody stop whispering?!?!" Doofenshmirtz complained. "You're gonna give me a complex. Another one. Are you helping or not?"
"Okay okay." One of you said. "Is everybody here?"
"Since when did we need a quorum?" Another of you asked.
"I don't see Janna." A third of you interrupted.
"Janna's still catching up, she said she'd be here soon."
"Alright, I think we're ready."
"Okay okay. How long do we think guys, six hour moratorium?"
"What?!?" Doofenshmirtz asked."Six hours?!?"
"Don't worry, it goes quick."
===
Help Doofenshmirtz navigate the rest of the Mindscape?
[ ] Yes: The Neuron Gnomes will continue to appear.
[ ] No: The bit is already getting old.
Tell Doofenshmirtz that Xanatos is using his trust to get secrets out of him?
[ ] Yes: Monthly meetings with Xanatos will become much less of a security issue, but Doofenshmirtz will likely be pretty bummed out about it. Mechanically so. Reduced relationship with Xanatos?????
[ ] No: What we don't know won't hurt us. Xanatos will continue to be something we don't know.
Does Technor try to convince the Neuron Gnomes to stop throwing away memories Doofenshmirtz won't acknowledge?
[ ] Yes: Diplomacy check; will need to convince Doofenshmirtz too since he's right there. Doofenshmirtz will have a harder time ignoring unpleasant truths. You are more likely to be told unpleasant truths. Doofenshmirtz will be more affected by unpleasant truths.
[ ] No: Self-Delusion is a way of life. Gnomes will continue hurling cognitively dissonant memories into the Memory Dump to be forgotten. Character development will progress at slower speeds. Doofenshmirtz's feelings will be less hurt. You will be provided less information about things Doofenshmirtz doesn't want to know.
