NTWF Mafia II: The Idyllic Village of Wafflenet

[Dan]

Don Dan was alone, and alone was exactly the wrong thing to be right now.

His wife had left a note. She'd gone into town. The little heart she'd scribbled at the end had its charms, sure, but all in all it felt like an empty gesture. Broken. Wrong. Just like everything else in this town right now.

He stared out the kitchen window quietly, watching the steady downpour. The window faced the small farm the Mahb siblings had let fall into disrepair. Weeds had overtaken what little remained of the corn crop, choking the stalks into submission. Rows of what had previously been tomatoes, carrots, and peas were now nothing more than dirt, rot, and more dirt. The barn where Ginz did most of her work was semi-ruined, the roof at a severe angle and always threatening to collapse on the lab within (something Dan had used as he desperately tried to convince his wife to move her lab out of the barn and into a more secure location, but she wouldn't hear of it, claiming her best work was done in that barn).

The scene outside his window did nothing to improve his mood. Dilapidation, disrepair, doom and gloom. It was beginning to feel like his default mood.

He decided he didn't want to think about the farm any longer. Truth be told he didn't really want to think of anything in this horrible town, but he would never be able to get anywhere in this horrible weather. The only car left on the farm was Ginz's father's pickup truck, and considering that the engine was long since removed for assistance in Ginz's experimentations, leaving only a rusted out hull in which a family of crows had made their home...he wouldn't be getting he and his wife out of this town any time soon. They were in it for the long haul.

He decided to brave the elements and head into town. Safety in numbers, after all. He grabbed a windbreaker and pulled the hood over his head roughly. Ginz seemed to have left their umbrella behind, oddly enough. But he chalked it up to her general scatterbrain lately. He didn't blame her, not after yesterday.

When he managed to escape the mud pits that had consumed the road into town and made it to more solid ground in the town square, he glanced around, looking for everyone, anyone. It was raining, sure, but this didn't sit right with him. Was something more sinister going down? His heart rate started to increase as he searched for anyone in the fog, hoping they weren't about to confront him with a tommy gun or butcher's knife.

Then, he spotted a few figures in the distance. The historian who'd shown up recently, Diane or something. And that woman from the city who spoke like a valley girl. He suspected it was all an act, but for what purpose he couldn't tell. Still, they were better than being alone. He approached the strange pair and gave them a slight nod.

"Morning," he said. The historian nodded back with pursed lips, not seeming entirely pleased to see him approach. She exhaled, sending a cloud of cigarette smoke heading his direction, and Don Dan coughed slightly. Rainy weather always seemed to make cigarettes that much more potent.

"So tell me true," he continued, trying to ignore the passive-aggression from the historian. "Any news I should know about?"

[Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff)]

Fluffle's ichor ran cold, making her look even more translucent. Of all people to die, why one of the few people who could actually help restore life?

Making mischief and getting back to the bakery wasn't so important now. Fluffle motioned to Penny and scuttled soundlessly to the stairs, which she used to get to the roof. The rain didn't bother her at all.

She scanned the horizon, and searched for Kay's ghost. She had to be here somewhere...the rest of the ghosts had to be there somewhere.

[Chao]

(Sorry, text wall of death )

Something was odd. Definitely odd… Itchy… At her throat. But touching it to scratch the sore spot seemed impossible. Kay O struggled to regain some consciousness. Only to be greeted by a glaring light beam, which engulfed her and lifted her up in a way defying all laws of gravity. Too bad Tracy was not here – she would have loved the sight. Somehow, the only halfway appropriate thing to say in this situation, which popped up in her mind was ‘Scotty beam me up!’

A chuckle greeted her and an illuminated figure of a positively ancient looking man with long white beard and the most garish aloha shirt she had ever seen became visible. “Well, my name is Pete and not Scotty, but beam you up I certainly did. Welcome to the afterlife, Kay O’Hara!”

Gaping was the only way to describe Kay’s expression at this moment accurately. She was… dead? And then she remembered. She had gotten up rather early this morning, intent on seeing what had become of Penny’s cat and possible take Maurice back with her and look after him. That’s why she had opened the door of the pharmacy, since it was a shorter way from there to Penny’s shop, and given the crutches and the rain a shorter way was definitely preferable. Then she had gone back in the direction of the backroom where she had a rain coat. But she had gotten only as far as the counter when she had been pulled back and then everything had gone black. Apparently by unlocking the door first she had let her killer in. And judging by the itchy feeling at her throat she had been killed by the Wafflenet Slicer and not the Mafia. Kay was not sure whether to feel relieved about the fact that she had been killed by a serial killer instead of the Mafia or not, but decided that this was irrelevant. More important was now: Where was she?

“At the gates,” Pete offered, pointing to large, golden gates. “This is where you choose your afterlife.”

“I get to choose?” Kay was surprised. She had thought that in case of an afterlife people were judged according to the way they lived their lives and according to their preferred faith.

“We have heaven, paradise, nirvana, happy hunting ground…”

“Hell and purgatory?” Kay inquired.

“Yes, those as well, if you want it.”

Kay hastily shook her head, which felt oddly floppy. Ah, yes, the Slicer… Mightily inconvenient. Righting her head with her hands – she did not really wonder why she suddenly could do this when moments before she could not reach her throat – she said: “Whatever I pick, would I be able to watch the happenings in Wafflenet? Does heaven or paradise or nirvana has Earth-TV or something along that line?” She needed to know. She needed to see what happened in her hometown and see if the good people or the bad guys won in the end.

Pete shook his head. “I’m afraid not. By choosing your afterlife you leave your old life behind you.”

“Then, could I perhaps delay the decision? Just for a little while? Until the situation in Wafflenet is cleared up?” Kay pleaded. “Perhaps as ghost?” There had been rumours about ghosts the day before, so why not…

Pete went to check a large register. “Wafflenet you said? Sorry, but there’s no ghost vacancy available there at the moment.” The register glowed slightly purple. “Looks as if the town is reassessed for ghost vacancies right now, but it might take a few days. Until then, no ghosts…”

“Are there any alternatives?”

“Perhaps Ghoul or Zombie?” Pete suggested.

Kay shook her head – cautiously this time. She did not want to look like a total fright in her after death apparition in Wafflenet. That was simply not who she was.

“Well, we could transfer your spirit into a usually inanimate object for the time being. You could see everything, rattle even and startle whoever is close, though you’d have to choose which side to hear and speak with – the living or the dead.”

It took her a moment to process what Pete had said. “Do I understand you correctly, I could return to Wafflenet as a talking spatula?”

“Spatula, but also waste bin or frying pan or whatever inanimate object you’d choose.”

Kay thought about it. This did not sound too bad. “Could I be transferred to the ghost department later?”

Pete shook his head. “Only one stalling appearance per person allowed. It’d have to be permanent till you decide to make your decision for afterlife.”

“Is there any time-limit? And what would happen should the inanimate object be destroyed?”

“We could make the object indestructible. As for the time-limit, unless you use this new form for mischief, it’s usually three years, otherwise it’s prolonged for additional three years…”

Kay pondered this for some time. Three years as animated inanimate object just to satisfy her curiosity? And which side did she want to communicate with? Dead or living? Hm, the dead were most likely to gain in numbers given the current situation. Eventually she came to a decision: “I’d like to be an indestructible sugar dispenser in the Waffles, No Nets diner, able to speak with the dead.” Right in the centre of social interactions.

Pete nodded and then faded away before her eyes and the scene changed to that of the waffle diner. And Kay had been right, most people had gathered here…

[Robyn]

Dove awoke with a start, head snapping up from a comfortable pile of kimono silk, unsure of how she had gotten on the floor in the first place. There was a noticeable breeze, and the ruffling of pleats and petticoats below her rump were beginning to bring some memories back. Skirts this short and frilly usually meant one out of two things for Dove: either she had passed out at a really stylistic lolita dress tea party, or she had finally realized her dreams of becoming a magical girl and it was time to save the town. The lack of broken teacups and carpet stains led her to believe that it was the latter.

In a flash, Dove was standing in a majestic pose, scepter in the air and ribbons floating in the aura of her righteousness. At least, she was until she saw the wall clock.

"KYAAAAA! Late again? The town needs me! Don't worry, citizens-chan! Puella Paloma Columbidae is up and running and on her way!" she cheered, finishing it all off with an acrobatic twirl of her wand.

That rhyme was good; she'd have to remember that. Puella Paloma Columbidae determinedly stuck a piece of toast in her mouth and dashed out the door, ready to spread her justice all around Wafflenet. She wasn't the hero they needed. She wasn't even the hero they deserved. She was just the only person who was actually willing to don a costume and call themselves as much.

* * * *

Though Puella Paloma Columbidae would have preferred to perform her duties in the name of the sunrise, the sun was already high in the sky at this point, hidden behind a thick layer of thunderclouds and rain. It didn't seem like much needed protecting right now except for her expertly coiffed magical girl updo. She'd grabbed her Totoro umbrella on the way out, but it felt a little bit less than uniform. A theme-breaker, for sure, but she decided she could ditch it once she found somewhere dry in town.

She'd been powerwalking past the fountain in town square when she encountered a heartbroken-looking Sparky sitting on a bench. Puella Paloma Columbidae gasped. This would be a perfect opportunity to practice her Doki Doki Kindness Devastating Crunch attack! No, wait, that sounded wrong. Maybe blessing! Yes, her Doki Doki Kindness Devastating Crunch blessing. She would bestow it promptly and maybe get some information out of this bereaved citizen as to where she could start her crusade of love. She swallowed the last bit of her toast and ran to him.

"Ohayo gozaimasu, Sparky-san!" Puella Paloma Columbidae said. "Your long alpaca face looks even longer than usual! Quick, tell me everything that is troubling you so that I can eradicate your fears with a single sweep of my Flight Scepter of the Ivory Cosmos."

"It's horrible," Sparky replied, too depressed to be shocked at the act, "Fluffle. Kay. Both killed in horrible, gruesome manners...I have no idea who could have done this. Someone in this town has to be lying! Someone has to pay for all these atrocities!"

"Hai, hai, all in good time, rama-chan. Do you know where I could find one of these horrible villains? It is my sacred job to stop them at any cost, desu!"

"Well...mostly everyone is gathered at the diner right now, so I suppose statistically speaking, they would be over--"

"PAFEKUTO!! Perfect!! My judgement will rain upon them in a tornado of hearts and daggers! Domo arigato, kind rama-sensei. You have taught me much today."

Puella Paloma Columbidae bowed shortly, spun around, and started to dash off. She then screeched to a halt, and ran back to Sparky.

"Wait, I almost forgot," she said. She began to spin the scepter, raising it slowly to the sky, and then with a definitive swoop, she chanted, "Doki....dokiiiii.....KINDNESS DEVASTATING CRUNCH BLESSING!"

She then gently waved the wand over Sparky's ears and giggled. "There we go. Bad feelings banished. No need to thank me; I'm a magical girl!"

Then, after a quick salute, Puella Paloma Columbidae started running, and Sparky watched in bewilderment as the bobbing grey umbrella disappeared in the downpour, headed vaguely in the direction of Waffles, No Nets.

(This is going to be good.)

[Avery]

As Brit waited for the historian lady to give her a cigarette, like, Sparkly came tearing through town again and yelled about another death... so loudly that like, Brit could hear him even though he was in Waffles, No Nets and she was outside in the rain. Ohemgee! The serial killer had struck again!? That was so, so scary! She couldn't like, believe the amount of deaths in this town! Like, in the city there had been murders and things but not so many. Plus, like, there was a bajillion people in the city, so statistically the chances of ending up dead were like, low. Here? It was like, a super high chance!

"So tell me true. Any news I should know about?"

Britknee glanced up at Don Dan. She didn't know him well but like, he seemed pretty kewl, she guessed. He hadn't been mean to her before in any case, like some of these stupid country bumpkins.

"Um," she said, "there's like, been another death! It's totes scary! The pharmacist lady. She's dead. And like, Fluffle too, if you hadn't heard about her." She glanced back at Diana. "Could I like, please have a cigarette already!?"

((Narrator Note: Remember, votes are due in about three hours! Please make sure to have yours in by then.))

[Celestial]

Diana looked up blearily as the vallery girl voice broke through the mist that had settled over her mind. She stretched out the pack of cigarettes towards Britknee, not even noticing as the smoke she blew out hit Don Dan's face. The only thing that finally made her snap out of it was the mild irritation in his tone.

"Oh, morning. I'm sorry, I did not notice you," she waved her hand in front of her face, trying to clear away the worst of the smoke and sighed. "News...Fluffle is dead. Killed by the mafia."

A voice suddenly interrupted her. Sparky, the one who had discovered Fluffle's body, had now found Kay O murdered by the slicer. Kay O, who she had talked to just yesterday, was now dead, a ghost. She took a long drag of her cigarette to calm herself down in case she had another breakdown, a likely possibility given her state of mind and the events going on around her that might be influencing her. And now there were people gathering all around, any one of which might be guilty.

No, Diana forced herself calm. A death was a death. She had seen millions of deaths mentioned as mere footnotes, heck, she had done some of that herself. This was nothing, nothing, she repeated to herself over and over until she was sure she could believe that lie. It was going to be alright, she had written about things like this. Why should living be any different. After all, she was a liar by profession, historians were natural liars much like authors, who made their lies sound plausible by backing them up with facts. That is why they needed footnotes, bibliographies and sources so that their lies could be swallowed by as many people as possible, so that their lies resembled the truth most of all.

And Diana had become very good not just as spotting the faults in lies but also accepting them. With that, she stood up. There were guilty people here but there were innocents as well. She could not live in fear of everyone in town and besides, she really did have a job to do. A mob was gathering, Diana could already see it in the eyes of the townspeople. She needed to be ready to record everything she saw, as she said she would, for the sake of history. People were dying but she was darned if their deaths were not going to be used for the most noble thing: being written about in an academic research paper. Diana stubbed out her cigarette and put it into the nearest wastebasket.

"I'm going to go to Waffles, No Nets and get myself a coffee, would you either of you care to join me?" she asked Britknee and Don Dan before going into the diner and sitting down at a booth, waiting for somebody to bring her her usual. There was something oddly satisfying about telling somebody you were having 'the usual'.

[Lizica]

Tracy's mind was a blank. Tired brain activity had ground to a halt, but she was dimly aware of distant alarms buzzing in her head. In a daze, she spooned herself some syrup and fetched some packets of sugar from the diner dispenser to munch on.

Back at Julie's table, she crunched quietly on her sugar.

And then, with a jolt, as if struck by lightning, she suddenly leaped to her feet.

"Eridanus!" she cried suddenly, with her mouth full, and then started coughing and choking on the sugar.

Great scott. The pattern. THE PATTERN.

Tracy whirled to her notebook and stared at her list.

She had not given out too many hats yesterday--but she had given a hat both to Fluffle and to Kay O.

And the day before that--she had given hats to Mony, Alex, and Penny.

After Yoyti and Thundy, every murder had been preceded by her giving the victim-to-be a hat on the previous day!

The aliens were mocking her. This was a game to them. Her hats were so ineffectual that the aliens were directly targeting the people she had gifted with them!

"You're in grave danger!" Tracy yelped suddenly, and swiped Julie's beret away.

It fell to the sticky floor with a sound inaudible over the diner's noise.

The musician was gaping at her (as were a good few other people). Tracy paused, her arm still in mid-swipe.

...OR... She reasoned, calming down a little, It was possible that the killers were jealous of the people with hats. In which case she should finish handing them out.

...OR it could just be a terrible, terrible coincidence.

But that was silly. There were no coincidences with these aliens. They would stop at nothing.

"S-sorry," Tracy said, nervously, and bent down to retrieve Julie's beret from the floor. She hoped that that was the right thing to do.

She stood up quietly; plunked an aluminum wolf skin hat onto Blaze's head without a word; located her tenant Mr. Osilon by the staircase and promptly smushed his hair with a pigeon hat; and then she stopped and gazed up and around. There were only two hats left, belonging to Dove and to Dr. Birch, and they didn't seem to be in the diner yet. She hoped they were alright.

Tracy slumped back to the table where Julie still sat.

"If only they were susceptible to our diseases," she told her glumly.

[Dan]

"Um," she said, "there's like, been another death! It's totes scary! The pharmacist lady. She's dead. And like, Fluffle too, if you hadn't heard about her."

Don Dan had not in fact heard about the pony's death, but it didn't effect much of a change on him to discover such a thing. He should have been more surprised, but somehow it didn't seem to affect him much anymore. Another day, another set of murders. Yes, they were terrible, horrible, unspeakable acts of malice, no one could deny that. But the shock value, the painful feeling in his gut that had accompanied so many of the previous murders of the past few days...that had dissipated almost entirely. He was becoming desensitized to the violence, he'd realized. And that made him very concerned indeed.

"I'm going to go to Waffles, No Nets and get myself a coffee, would you either of you care to join me?"

He supposed he might as well. It'd get him out of the rain, anyways. Nodding his assent, he followed the historian into the diner only to find that the majority of the town had already convened in the increasingly-too-small restaurant. THE PYTHON was busy making a scene at the counter, and he quickly averted his gaze to avoid eye contact with his brother-in-law, though he supposed he could only escape the man's attentions for so long in as enclosed a space as this. All the booths had been taken, and nearly all of the barstools, too, though he spotted a booth at the far end of the restaurant (in fact, the very one he'd sat in just a few nights ago) where his wife was sitting dazedly, her hands loosely cupping a mug. He slowly worked his way through the crowd, passing by booths filled with townsfolk. He took a sidestep as a sudden outburst from Tracy sent a tinfoil hat flying to his feet, and reached down to grab it, only to graze the Shipshape Shop's owner's hand lightly as they both grasped the beret. He blushed slightly, handed it to her, and carried on to the end of the diner where his wife waited.

"Ginz," he said softly as he sat across from her, breaking her out of her reverie. "Are you okay?"

[Gelquie]

Julie couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief when Tracy confirmed Fluffle's presence. So she could write off the possibility of her being crazy. Then as Tracy began to talk about the sky being a potential killer, she started to have some second thoughts. On the other hand, she was pretty certain that while Tracy may be crazy, it probably isn't crazy of the hallucination variety. ...Well, a good chance of it anyway. She folded her hands and stared at Fluffle. At least she was pretty certain that she wasn't, in fact, seeing things.

Julie was roused from her thoughts by Tracy offering her a hat. She had actually been wondering why she hadn't gotten one yet, considering how she had been passing them out. But she stared at the foil beret in front of her. She couldn't deny that it was pretty good craftsmanship for something made out of tin foil.

"Oh, thank you," Julie said politely, bringing the hat closer to her to examine it while sliding over the smaller syrupy plate to Tracy. She didn't have a mirror in front of her, but Julie tried to imagine herself wearing the hat, or a beret in general. It probably wouldn't look that bad on her, really. She had never really worn one before, but she wondered if maybe she just had the face and look for it. Of course, this one was made of tin foil, but perhaps in the future she could find a cheap beret that she could wear for warmer days and style. When there wasn't too much going on, of course.

She continued to eat what was left on her bigger plate. It was then that Sparky entered the restaurant again.

"The Wafflenet Slicer has struck again! Kay O'Hara is dead in her pharmacy! We are not safe, any of us!"

Kay? No... She liked Kay. She was an interesting person to talk to, and she was always very helpful whenever Julie had an errant stomachache or headache. But she was always just... pleasant. To think that she was killed as well... Julie put her hands up to her face and took a few deep breaths while singing a few simple lyrics under her breath. Eventually, she tried to straighten up, and she started straight at her waffle and the hat before her. There was too much going on... Distraction. She needed her distractions. She went back to eating, trying not to think about what exactly happened to Kay.

Julie was close to finishing when she saw Tracy jump up and let out a cry before she began choking. Her eyes went wide. Oh no. Was there poison in the sugar? Did the Mafia strike again? Please, not another one...

"Tracy! Are you alright?!" she called out, starting to get to her feet herself. It wasn't too long later that she saw her hat get swiped away by Tracy.

"Wait!" she cried. But it was too late. The beret had already fallen to the floor. Julie could only stare for a moment at Tracy. A moment long enough for Tracy to seem to calm down and come to her senses before picking up the hat. Julie cringed slightly at the debris the hat had picked up and hoped desperately that Tracy wouldn't hand it to her over what was left of her waffle and shake some dust on it in the process.

She watched as Tracy went off to deliver hats to other people while simultaneously hurrying to finish the waffle on her plate before something else crazy happened. By the time she had finished up, Tracy had returned.

"If only they were susceptible to our diseases," she heard Tracy say.

"Who, the Mafia? ...Oh, you mean the aliens," Julie said. She shifted. She didn't believe in aliens herself, but she found there was a sort of comfort in talking about them instead of thinking about the murders that were going on, or the whole scare that happened earlier with the sugar. Or Kay... "Well, I... I guess they might be weaker against others things on the planet, even stuff that we don't mind."

Julie shifted her plate to the side before she got up, deciding to go to the bathroom. She came back about a minute later and sat down. While she was done with her food, she still preferred not to leave the safety of the restaurant, especially given the rain and the murders that could happen. Besides, it's not like she had many deliveries that day. Heck, if anything, maybe the people who want her deliveries could come to to the restaurant, thus making her job much easier. Well, she hoped that anyway.

She set down her case on the floor below the table and took out her mandolin before she began strumming it. She hoped that no one would mind. The restaurant could probably use some music to try to lighten up the atmosphere. Maybe the disturbance could take peoples' mind off of the murders. In any case, the music would help herself keep calm and distracted; she knew that for certain.

[Terra]

Blaze was slightly annoyed at THE PYTHON's behavior toward Mick (albeit a bit relieved that Mick was no longer trying to throw her and Primrose out of the restaurant, at least for the moment). She almost cheered when Mick began to threaten THE PYTHON, though she was a little ambivalent about Mick's idea of using Primrose to attack him (if she could even persuade the wolf to do so) (but at the same time, the idea was awfully tempting...)

But she was soon distracted from these thoughts by the next series of events. First the ghost of that pony who ran the bakery showed up (“WHAT THE FRICK”).

Then some farmer - what was his name again? Sparkly something-llama or something - barged in and shouted that Kay O'hara, the pharmacist, had been killed by the Wafflenet Slicer.

Blaze stared at him, blinking. Another death? This was just too much.

TOO FREAKING MUCH.

A thought struck her and she spun around to speak to the pony, but she had disappeared in the intervening time.

“HEY, PONY,” she shouted into the air. “I MEAN. HEY, WHAT’S YOUR NAME? WE NEED TO TALK TO YOU. CLEARLY PEOPLE ARE DYING HERE, AND SINCE YOU ARE ONE OF THE VICTIMS if indeed you are NOT A HALLUCINATION which I SUPPOSE THERE’S NO REASON TO ASSUME but ANYWAY, IF YOU’RE ACTUALLY REAL AND EVERYTHING, COULD YOU MAYBE TELL US SOMETHING ABOUT WHO KILLED YOU SO WE CAN FIGURE OUT AT LEAST SOME OF THE PEOPLE WHO MIGHT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS.”

Then she glanced down at her feet. Had she really just yelled at thin air? The people around her probably thought she was crazy -

Then that conspiracy nut - Tracy? She’d always liked that girl - placed a tinfoil hat on Blaze’s head. Blaze took it off and examined it - it was a nice hat, really, fashioned to resemble wolf skin. Blaze turned to compliment Tracy on her hat-making skills when she noticed Primrose sniffing around the booth where the musician was sitting.

“Primrose,” said Blaze warningly. “Don’t go looking for human food. It’s not good for you.”

Primrose looked at Blaze with wide, pleading eyes.

“Ugh, fine,” said Blaze, rolling her eyes. Primrose happily resumed sniffing and soon found a French fry at the musician’s feet, which she gobbled up happily.

[Ginz ❤]

After finding out about Fluffle's death, Ginz struggled to decide what to do. She considered going back home, but having forgotten her umbrella, she was still soaking wet, and the rain hadn’t stopped, so she ruled out that option. It seemed like she would have to stay at the diner, so she thought she might as well find a seat. The place was more crowded than usual, but thankfully there was a free booth at the far end of the restaurant.

It was perfect, Ginz thought. She would be able to sit and dry off a bit without calling attention to herself, so she would be able to enjoy peace and quiet, just like as she liked. Even though they were short of staff, Tanya showed up at her booth as soon as she settled down. Ginz ordered a cup of chamomile tea, hoping it would help calm her down.

She had just been given her tea, when Sparky made his second appearance that day. He looked even more agitated than the first time, if that was possible.

"The Wafflenet Slicer has struck again!" he shrieked. "Kay O'Hara is dead in her pharmacy! We are not safe, any of us!"

Ginz felt sick. She couldn’t take any more deaths. She had never been very close to Kay, but she knew her well. Her pharmacy was where Ginz got the majority of the ingredients she used in her potions, and Kay was always helpful, even when Ginz requested uncommon preparations. Her acquaintance with Kay went even further back. She remembered going to school with her, even though she was older and in Melvin’s class, not hers, so they had never actually talked. But the town only had one school, and it was small enough that everyone knew each other, at least by name.

Were the murders ever going to stop? She was terrified of losing everyone she cared about, and she knew she could be the next target, too. That scared her a lot. Ginz didn’t feel like drinking her tea anymore. She absentmindedly played with the spoon, stirring her drink, but it was just to keep herself busy somehow, since she hadn’t put any sugar in it.

"Ginz," Dan said softly as he sat across from her, breaking her out of her reverie. "Are you okay?"

Ginz blinked a few times, snapping out of her daze. She was holding her tea mug; she could feel it had gone cold. She found herself staring directly at the person whose company she had hoped for the most. She almost thought she was dreaming for a bit.

“Dan,” she said, savoring his name, a better remedy for her anxiety than tea. “I don’t know how much more I can take. These deaths… they’re too much. I haven’t been able to make a potion in days. I hardly feel like myself anymore. I was looking forward to living our new lives together here, in my hometown, the place I’ve always loved. And now… Penny is gone, as well as the others. Look what it’s become! What are we going to do?”

[icon]

Even halfway down the stairs, Osilon could hear the bustle of people around the diner's floor.

He pushed open the door with his foot, carrying the empty mug and plate over to the counter. He stopped as Miss Chaetura dropped a tinfoil hat on his head (pigeon-shaped, from the looks of it; he was particularly impressed with the feathers) then dropped his load on the counter and retreated to the corner. Tanya or Mick would be able to pick it up shortly.

Nod, nod, glance around. Osi had never seen the diner this packed before, though part of that may have been because he had never really bothered to spend much time here, except for that one time a particularly lost peacock wandered inside. Mr. and Mrs. Mahb Maphia were sitting in the booth next to him. Nod, small grin. Shuffle. Tip of the hat in a slightly apologetic manner. It was hard to believe Penny had only died yesterday; how the two of them were coping, he hardly knew. Look around some more. There's Blaze with her wolf, Miss Chaetura and the Merlot Lady, Mrs. Williams in the corner...

Too many people. Too much, too much, even outside more were coming inside for shelter from the rain. Where there are are people, there is chaos; but with this much chaos, safety would be harder to unearth.

Don't bother going towards an open stool, Osi thought. Just stay in the back corner here. Corners are safe, corners are neat. And worst comes to worst, the staircase at hand would make for a decent escape route...

[Draco]

Rocky was a bit bored that morning. He floated around, couldn't really find anyone, so he went to the diner. Or more correctly, under it. He floated up through the ground, and happened to pop up right between Dan and Ginz. He looks at them both, smiles, and hands Ginz a white rose.

"Hello there."

[♥ Azzie]

Just as Nora was settling down to enjoy her lunch again, a ruffled-looking llama burst in and announced that there had been another killing.
She shivered. There was certainly no doubt she was beginning to lose her mind. The diner was full of people shivering and crying- and, unsurprisingly, the apparition of the baker had disappeared. She'd known it would, now that her mind was otherwise occupied- with terror.
She knew, deep down, that the smart thing to do would be to take her chickens and move to a different town- or, better yet, a house far from any others. But she would not even consider it. To Nora, leaving Wafflenet was simply not an option. It was where she had met and married her husband, where her chickens had been raised. Her home. And leaving that was simply unthinkable.

She just really wished that it weren't.

[Avery]

Nearly the entire town was gathered in Waffles, No Nets, and they wanted vengeance.

The first few deaths had been horrifying and brutal; but as the body count grew and grew, the townspeople were rapidly shifting from mainly upset to simply angry. They could not just sit around as their fellow citizens continued to die! Sure, their executions thus far had proven unsuccessful, and had done nothing to stop the murders. But that just meant they had to keep trying. Hang enough people, and surely one of them would be guilty, right?

But while the past few executions had been decided largely on emotional grounds-- or a lot of emotion entwined with just the tiniest fragments of so-called logic-- this time the townsfolk decided to talk it over in a strictly reasonable sort of way. They would not ascribe to gut feelings, but what made sense. For example, what sort of person-- what sort of alive person, that was-- had continuous access to a hiding place-- a base of operations-- near where most of the murders had taken place (thus, in the town centre)? And what sort of person wouldn't have stuck out much hanging around town so early in the morning, at the ungodly time when most of the deaths had occurred? What person fit in there, at that time: was expected, and so his or her presence mentally written off as Not Odd?

It took a lot of careful mulling for the town to decide, and once they did, the choice was fairly unanimous: "Mick," said the townspeople. "Mick Angelo! He opens up the diner so very early, before anyone else beyond shop owners are ever about. His presence draws no attention. He is expected here. Would draw no suspicion from his unsuspecting victims. Why, it must be him! It must!"

"No," protested Mick as he served up a steaming plate of waffles to one of the customers. "It's not me! I would never do anything to hurt my friends and neighbors!"

"But it makes sense!" shot back the town. "Stal and Mony both died in the alley right out there, just feet from where you work! Or perhaps you are the serial killer, and not in the mafia; in that case, Penny's shop is just down the street, as is Kay's pharmacy! You could have easily slipped out early in the morning, before the diner opened, and killed them, and then come to open up shop without drawing any attention at all!"

"But it's not me!" Mick cried. "It's not, I swear!"

The town, however, would hear none of it. Before Mick could make a run for it, they formed an unbreakable circle around him, seized him, and dragged him out to the gallows. As the rain lashed at them all, the town strung up Mick Angelo to be hanged.

And as he was lifted up, his death imminent, he cast a desperate look out to three anonymous faces in the crowd, as if to say: Help me, please. You cannot let me die! But rather than helping, those three people just averted their gazes, looked away from Mick Angelo. After all, if they tried to aid him, then suspicion would next fall over them. And they couldn't risk that. No, not at all...

Mick hanged.

**

Later that day, as morning segued into afternoon and beyond, and the pouring rain turned from a mere nuisance into a loud, earth-shattering thunderstorm-- complete with lightning, wind, and copious amounts of hail-- most of the town remained in Waffles, No Nets, sure that this time they'd gotten their man. Over cups of coffee and plates of waffles (now cooked and served by a very overwhelmed Tanya), the townspeople occasionally shot sidelong glances out the window, watching as Mick's hanged body was blown about by the wind like a weightless dummy. They'd interred Kay's body in the freezer alongside many of the earlier victims (Fluffle was still lying prone in the field on Sparky's property, too large to move without special equipment), but before they could cut down Mick, the weather had soured, and they'd decided it wasn't worth the risk.

He'd come down later.

And as the town chattered and ate and drank, three people briefly broke away from the rest and discretely entered the vacant storage room towards the back of the diner, a few minutes apart from each other. They knew it was risky convening right under the noses of nearly all the townspeople, but since the storage room was next to the bathrooms, they hoped if the rest of the town noticed their temporary absences, they'd write them off as innocuous. Everyone went to the loo, right? Being gone for ten minutes wouldn't make anyone blink twice.

"I can't believe it," hissed the one, keeping his or her voice as quiet as possible. "Mick! Poor Mick! I can't believe they hanged him."

"It was a fluke," insisted the second. "A random stroke of luck. Like a lightning strike. It won't happen again."

"It's not a game of dominos," agreed the third. "One fallen doesn't mean the rest of us will go. The town got lucky, that's all."

"We'd better hope," sighed the first, blinking back tears. "I just can't believe it..."

"We'll be okay," said the second. "We must stay strong, alright? These townspeople will not win."

"To the mafia," murmured the third.

"To the mafia," chorused the others.

And then they dispersed, more hell-bent than ever on ending the wretched little town of Wafflenet.

Mick Angelo was a MAFIA MEMBER.

He wasn't a bad person, not really. It's just college tuition: that can drive anyone to murder.

Not that he intended things to go so poorly. He just wanted to be a fantastic chef, and for that reality to come true, he needed to go to culinary school. And culinary school isn't cheap, you know. So that's how he found himself aligned with the mafia, because their nefarious illegal activities could help him collect the money he needed for tuition. He planned to pay the town back in delicious breakfast dishes, but that fantasy quickly went awry when the mafia escalated from thievery to murder. He wanted out, but there's no quitting the mafia. You serve, or you die.

Anyhow, good job, little town! One mafia member down, three and the serial killer to go. Carry on, citizens!