1806/Many Outrageous Diversions, Or: CAT-ACLYSM!

Many Outrageous Diversions, Or: CAT-ACLYSM!
Date of Scene:	04 August 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	The adventures of a Zombie, a cheshire cat, a caped superhero and a robot. There's M.O.D.O.K, there's... you had better read it for yourself.
Cast of Characters:	StarDrake, 1261, 87, Stardust

---

StarDrake has posed:
Central Park in New York. Visible from space. (Anything is visible from space with a good set of binoculars and a close orbit. Even better when you just drop from space at something under the speed of sound. That way, the cloaking devices work, keeping various weapons of mass destruction from targeting. Because nothing will ruin a robot's day more than being shot from the sky by primitive weapons, and the Star*Drake is ... inappropriate ... to bring to Manhattan.

Meanwhile of course, in a gardening shed in Central Park (and by 'shed' we mean 'small warehouse') there is a meeting between three persons: The bulbous, red-eyed shape of the Modular Organism Designed Only (for) Collecting; the bulbous, not-red-eyed shape of the Kingpin, and a bulbous shiny-headed fellow with a monocle, who goes by von STRUCKER! And it seems that they are CONSPIRING! for evil, probably.

The robot drops to the ground outside the ware-green-house by sheerest comic-book-esque coincidence.

Alexander Dubois (1261) has posed:
Also by sheerest comic-book-esque coincidence, there happens to be a young fella walking around near this area. Well, there are a lot of young fellas around the area, but this is a specific one. This one is a dark-skinned, brown haired kid with gold-colored eyes. Looks like a typical teenage boy -- t-shirt, jeans, sneakers, and a long-sleeved shirt tied by the sleeves around his waist.

He seems content to just pass by, but then he sees something drop down from the sky. A robot? A spaceship that looks like a person? Alexander pauses, looks in that direction, blinks. "...What the...?" he murmurs, and heads in that direction. Slowly.

Vorpal (87) has posed:
No coincidence, no story, right señorita?

Wait, that's the wrong game. In any case, it isn't really a coincidence for Vorpal to be in Central Park at night, considering that this was part of his Route B Patrol. Central Park always merits special attention because of its propensity for attracting the weird and unusual. The Cheshire Cat was certain that it had something to do with ley lines. Or maybe a curse from a passing wizard. Or something of the sort. He's looking into it.

The Cheshire cat is hidden among the treetops, watching everything passing by as a robot that looks very familiar comes down from the sky. He smirks- if only Gar could see this! He stretches out along the branch, resting his chin on crossed arms. "Well well well... curioser and curioser." He wonders what the robot is doing here now.

Stardust has posed:
Not far from that consequential yet innocuous-appearing 'shed', another of those typical, every-day folks in the area takes notice of the plummeting... thing. Even at subsonic speeds, a couple of tons of re-entering metal is not entirely inconspicuous. One of the young women rather than another of the fellas, she too is fairly typically dressed. Black Chucks, jeans, and a pale blue cropped summer hoodie. Less typically, she's not walking around, but is perched on the branch of a tree, a good twenty feet off the ground. Not, it must be added, the same tree that contains a chaotic cat-like entity, but a purely coincidental tree. If there is such a thing.

The woman has a bottle of water in her hands, sipping it as she rests there a while and watching the world go by. It's not that she was watching for a couple of tons of re-entering metal, but she's well positioned to notice it. She watches it drop to earth, not far from where she is sitting, and as it passes out of sight behind some trees, she shrugs her shoulders and leans back. A few moments later, she mutters "Nah"... apparently to herself. A few more moments later, she frowns and shakes her head, and follows up with "Do you hear screaming? I don't." Then sighs softly. "Is it really necessary?" she asks. Who needs company for a good debate?

StarDrake has posed:
The villainy that's afoot ... completes, basically, with AIM winning out over the force of Hydra, and there is a cursing, a bit of backstabbery attempted, and a blistering ZAP that knocks over one of the greenhouse walls. von Strucker explodes past the fallen wall and across the park, but before he hits the ground, a Serpent Sky Cycle snags him from the sky! And he disappears to the west, towards ... NEW JERSEY.

Meanwhile, the Kingpin attempts to shake hands with the tiny little hand of M.O.D.O.C. (who is something like a tyrannosaurus rex in the utility of his tiny arms) as his minions scurry off with the money.

The robot completes landing and after a moment of scanning, spits out a smaller robot. M.O.D.O.C. makes a greed face. Disturbing.

"What are you looking at, Humpty?" the robot says to the Modular Organism.

<There's something wrong with that guy standing over there,> a part of the robot says. <He's dead, Jim.>

<Don't call me Jim, Mikh-2,> the main process says. Then the M.O.D.O.C. sends one of those glowing blasts at the robot, who is surprised to find himself floating in midair without the use of his engines.

Alexander Dubois (1261) has posed:
What the hell?! Alexander finds a place to hide when the wall of the greenhouse falls over. He doesn't want to be caught out there in the middle of this! He dives behind the nearest cover he can find, narrowly missing the Serpent Sky Cycle thing. And he peeks out, trying to figure out what in the hell is going on! He doesn't realize he's been 'made', so to speak, by the robot.

Vorpal (87) has posed:
The Cheshire cat can see in the dark. It's part of the whole 'cat' thing, you see. He spots Alexander making a dive for it, and he decides to make sure the civilian isn't squished in the battle of the Battlebot versus-

"OH MY GOD IT HAS TINY LEGS!"

The Cheshire cat loses it for a moment, laughing on the tree branch and pointing at M.O.D.O.C. "What IS that? It's like a toddler decided to get a booster chair from Tony Stark. Oh my ribs!" he tries not to laugh too much. But he gets... a quick idea.

Suddenly, laughter erupts from all the trees in the nearby area. Each one has a Vorpal hanging from a branch in various poses but all of them pointing at M.O.D.O.C.
"So cute!"
"It's like a baby with Gary Busey's head!"
"He should quit while he's still a head!"

Well. You get the idea.

The real Cheshire Cat appears through a Rabbit Hole near Alexander's hiding spot, invisible, only to become visible once he has tiptoed around so that he, too, is hiding.

"Psssst," he says in Alex's ear, becoming visible, "What are we hiding from? Do you have any snacks?"

Stardust has posed:
Meanwhile, a soft sigh comes from the tree Colette has been perched in. "It's probably just a random explosion. Some days things just expl..." her voice tails away as she watches a FLYING BIKE THING. "Okay, okay. I'll check it out." She finishes her drink, leaving the bottle wedged out of the way, and slides off into space.

If she's good at climbing trees, Colette must be even better and dropping out of them, because she's apparently able to change clothes while doing it. By the time she comes to a halt, a couple of feet from the ground, her everyday outfit is gone and replaced by a face mask and costume in shades of shimmering white, with vaguely military styled detailing, skirted, with a cape that reaches to her ankles. She looks out in the direction of the explosion, stretches her arms out wide, then back behind her head, then adjusts her mask and glances down at herself. "Yay, superhero stuff. With a cape. Great. Stupid cape. Seriously, who does capes? Yeah, apart from me, apparently," she mutters dryly to herself.

Finally done with her stretching-and-complaining routine, Colette drifts upwards to tree-top height, and flies rather lazily towards the scene of the action. She comes to a halt in the air, floating inconveniently close to where Vorpal and Alexander are hiding out. "Robots?" she asks the universe in general. "I don't think robots are in my remit. Isn't there like a union thing?"

StarDrake has posed:
The Kingpin's minions have left the park, driving away in a small fleet of white limos. The Kingpin has somehow disappeared, without being seen to flee. More minions in beekeeper hats make off with the ill-gotten loot... or at least, make it into their fancy tank with the special bowl-shaped giant seat for the giant head with the floating chair. Full of missiles. Which fire off in a near-Anime swarm of micromissile doom and explodeyness, most of which are aimed at the multiple cat-jerks who are making fun of the Glory of M.O.D.O.C. and one at the person with a cape who just appeared in the treetops nearby, because NO caped fool will be allowed to interfere with the One Designed Only for Collecting!!!

The robot in the air goes limp. The landing shell, however, seems to wake up, and brings its shoulder-guns to bear on the Floating Gumdrop With Tiny Limbs.

"PUT DOWN THE ROBOT, MO-DUCK" the landing shell orders, loudly enough to be heard across the park.

Alexander Dubois (1261) has posed:
Alexander is concentrating on what's going on in front of him, so he isn't really looking behind him. Which, uh. Is a mistake, considering there's a Cheshire cat sneaking up on him. Something to note as Vorpal gets near -- this dark-skinned kid smells like ozone and dusty books, not of flesh and blood.

The sudden whisper in his ear makes him jump, though he claps a hand over his mouth to keep from yelling in surprise. A wisp of pale, greenish smoke escapes from the corner of his mouth, even if the sound is muffled. He turns towards the sound of the voice and blinks. "Uh... n-no, I don't, sorry," he responds. As for what they're hiding from? "No idea, really. Something exploded."

Speaking of explosions HOLY CRAP THERE'S MORE! Alexander says something rude in French -- literally, excuse his French -- and then ducks his head down, covering his head with his arms to shield it from any debris that might be falling. "Right then. Let's stop all this." He hunkers down some more, and then begins to breathe out. Thick green smoke issues from his mouth, with a soft groaning sound that doesn't seem to be coming from him.

There's a bunch of it. Like, a BUNCH. A whole fog bank. And that whole fog bank makes for the fancy tank, trying to remain hidden on the ground. Why? Because if it can reach the tank, the smoke will try to filter into the tank itself, into the thing's inner workings. And from there, Alexander -- now in the form of the smoke, as his body remains inert behind cover -- tries to take control of the machine!

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"Ça va!" Vorpal chuckles when he startles Alexander, picking up on his French, "On est amis ici, ne t'inquietes pas."

He seems very eager to practice his French. Truth be told, he missed being able to prattle at Chat Noir. He missed Chat Noir. And 'Nette. Maybe he can get this guy to trade mobiles so he ca-

"Oh, *very* nice!" the Cheshire cat says appreciatively of the fog. He isn't quite sure what the fog is going to do, but it looks impressive. "Right, then, Foggy here is doing his thing." He looks at Colette and looks at her from top to bottom. "... White? You must have one hell of a dry-cleaning service. Do you know how hard it is to keep your whites white as a superhero? Anyways... I'm going to run interference. Feel free to do what it is you do and we'll improvise, right?"

He jumps out of his hiding spot and applies his strategy.

It, apparently, consists of jumping up and down and shining a spotlight on himself. No, really, there is a spotlight that appears above him and lights him up.

"Hey, Mo-DORK! That robot is my friend!" Acquaintances, really, "If you're going to take him, you're going to have to hit me with that overgrown radish you call a cranium. Hit me with your pet shark!*"

At the incoming barrage, the Cheshire cat grins and quickly thrusts his hands forward, releasing a wave of pure chaos magic into a cloud in front of him.

"Return to sender!"

The missiles pull a one-eighty, describing a rather elegant arc in mid-air as they start heading back to M.O.D.O.K.
"... I'm so glad that worked..." Vorpal says to himself, quietly.



*Footnote: This is Pat Benatar's most often misheard lyric.

Stardust has posed:
Colette, AKA Stardust, AKA that caped fool, yells out an aggrieved "HEY! RUDE!" as she sees a micromissile heading rapidly towards her. She darts sidewise through the air, letting it pass her, and continues her tirade as it turns to home back in on her. "You're gonna fire missiles at someone without even..." DODGE! "...introducing yourself first?" DODGE! "Were you raised by wolves?" DODGE! "Uh. Missile wolves? Uh. Robot-building missile wolves? Whatever..."

  Her attention is drawn by the green fog-bank spreading out below - oO(Green fog? That can't be good...) - and then by the comments called up at her by the oO(Orange cat guy? That can't be... uh. That could be anything). Congenitally incapable of refusing an opening to banter, she calls back down "You try fighting Doctor Chalk and the Paintball Mob and see how well that black stands up..."

All of which leaves her a fraction late dodging the missile on its next pass. She twists her body in the air, avoiding a direct impact, and makes the rather strange decision to grab on to the missile and attempt to wrestle it out of the sky.

Mistake.

Stardust corkscrews away, dragged by the last of the micromissile's rocket fuel, the roaring of the engine accompanied by an "Oh Fu....", the final word fading into the censorship of distance.

Moments later, flames blossom in the sky, Stardust at the heart of them. She hangs there, apparently unharmed, but for the moment utterly still.

StarDrake has posed:
The Advanced Idea Tank is slightly harder to take over than your average car, because it's filled with Advanced Ideas, like a dual-redundant AI, remotely controlled by M.O.D.O.C.'s brainwave amplification rig. Still, enough of it is not hooked up to a motor, driver, screw or motivator that a possessing smog monster can impede and gradually take systems off-line, but using it directly against M.O.D.O.C. will take a lot more time than is likely to be safe.

Fortunately, M.O.D.O.C. is bemused by the sight of the missiles turning against him, and he activates their self-destruct system (which does NOT make them go boom) along with his personal "I have SPF 4000" force-field repellent system. The shock does make it through, and he's a bit dazed and confused AGAIN to see Stardust hanging in mid-air.

The lander frame begins to restructure its arms, while the robot hangs there unconscious, because the robot himself is running the lander frame. The arms turn into several different weapons for stopping "robberies etc." and parts shuffle around, shifting a machine gun into storage in the lander, and making a Cephalic Jammer from components. Do not get hit by the Cephalic Jammer. It's like having your brain stuck replaying that time when you were doing an interview for a high-stakes job and you realized you had no pants on.

Alexander Dubois (1261) has posed:
Even in his foggy form, Alexander is aware of things, though his awareness is... well, foggy -- no pun intended. That fog is ectoplasm, you see. And that's basically what he is now; he's just using that to sort of puppet his body. Hence why it's inert now. He can see Colette apparently take damage, and would wince if he could, but he kind of doesn't have a face right now. Also he's sort of crawling through a tank at the moment.

It's quite all right if Alexander can't take it over completely. He has another idea for how to screw this thing up. If it's got an AI, then it must be electric, and Alexander's ectoplasm's is attracted to electricity, whether bioelectricity or artificial electricity. So it's liable to find all those nice little electric pathways, and leave his 'calling card', so to speak.

You see, the slimey nature of ectoplasm isn't... totally fake. Ever walked through a thick fog and been drenched coming out? Well, that's where the slime comes from -- it's a residue that 'collects' on things that the ectoplasm touches. Like electronic equipment. Which is liable to bridge the gap between circuits that really ought not touch...

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"... You okay up there?" Vorpal shouts upwards, trying to get Colette's attention or at least an acknowledgement that she isn't dead.

What? He doesn't know how flying people die. For all he knows, they float belly-up against the vault of the sky and a mortuary with a helicopter has to come by and scoop them up with a net.

He wonders if those places are currently hiri-

Right. Modork. The Cheshire cat isn't sure what he can do for Fog Boy, because he's not sure if his chaos magic might end up disrupting what he's doing or not. The flying woman is being all Schrodinger (dead/not dead) up in the sky right now... so all he's left with is to keep helping his robot friend.

Time to bring out another ace from under the sleeves he doesn't have.

The fact that Mo-derp attacked his illusions tells him that he doesn't have a way to tell illusions from the real thing. So far. So what happens next makes complete sense in Vorpal's mind. And no matter how many times I say this, it's not going to make it any better, so-


The area around M.O.D.O.C shimmers and changes. He cannot see Mikh... he can't see anyone, really. All around, it's grey brick walls. There's a thrumming base synth that makes the ground vibrate a bit, and clearly a very expensive YAMAHA keyboard circa 1980something playing in the background.

Several feet from MO'Doh, there is a red-headed man standing at least ten feet tall. He looks like a total dork, with a black suit jacket draped over a back and white striped polo shirt, grey slacks and black shoes.

This man has no shame.

This man also points at Modok, and begins to sing:

~We're no strangers to love

Vorpal (87) has posed:
You know the rules and so do I
A full commitment's what I'm thinking of
You wouldn't get this from any other guy
I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling
Gotta make you understand...
Never gonna-~

And this is where the camera pans away from the illusion that is encasing MODOK which might as well be the tenth circle of hell.

He probably doesn't deserve that.

Stardust has posed:
Stardust remains floating still in the air, looking a little like a statue that has learned to fly. Even her cape appears to have stopped fluttering in the wind. This only lasts a few more moments though, before she bobs in the air and circles back to the fray, apparently none the worse for being blown up.

This time her approach is a little less incautious, darting and dodging through the air at low level and scooping up an iron beam from the rubble of the fallen wall as she approaches. By the time she's back on the scene, there's a 10-foot tall singer and hellish illusions abound. She bobs in the air to "wtf" to herself, but decides to roll with it.

Iron beam clutched in both hands, she weaves and circles above M.O.D.O.C, finally getting a clear view of the strange being.

"Huh. Maybe you aren't a robot then?" she calls down. "Whatever you are, it's pretty messed up. Are you like... Humpty Dumpty's evil cyborg twin? Too bad he got the looks. To be fair, if I was that ugly I'd probably fire missiles at people too." While all this swooping and taunting takes place, something is happening to the iron beam she's holding. Under her hands, the metal starts to glow a dull red.

"So, uh... how do you, you know? Go to the bathroom?" Stardust's unconventional taunting continues as she zips to and fro, making herself a difficult target. That's if the ugly villain is able to spare her any attention what with hellish Rickroll and ectoplasmic short-circuits distracting him. "Is it all kinda built in, or do you have some kind of a vent you can open up down below?" The beam in her hands continues to redden. "Imagine if you forgot to press the 'open' button one day. That would suck. Anyway, my turn to throw things."

Stardust sweeps around in a big arc, gripping the iron beam one handed, and bursts forwards at speed. She hurls the beam, javelin like, at M.O.D.O.C's armored shell. The air shimmers with heat around it as the tip of her home-made missile glows.

StarDrake has posed:
There is a sudden and abrupt KERTHUNK in the tank, and then a bit of smoke comes out of some electrical parts which depend on the magic smoke staying INSIDE the little canisters. One of the beekeeper-hatted scientists (* all the minions are advanced scientists, because there is an enormous surplus of them somehow) begins to tweak a scanning probe, turning it in short order into an electric-charge variegator, with which he can induce carges and currents in metal close to the probe. To electrically active ectoplasm, it's like having a really tingly fizzy hot-tub bath that will massage the whole body really. And it's trying to LURE Alexander into a better area for containerization to isolate the goop. As it operates over the next five minutes, it will sweep and lure and then use electrostatic suction to put the smokey intruder into a sort of mason jar.

None of the M.O.D.O.x. line has a sense of humor. They just can't make it work. (The poor man's prototype Taneleer Tivan has not collected one yet.) He recognizes the nature of the illusion, and with a howl at the Rick-Rolling that it is overriding his sensorium, he pitches a fit... not just a fit, he pitches a no-hitter game of tantrums. He does not use his words. He uses his MENTA-BLAST FOCUSING LENS on his forehead.

The first thing
        you notice is that
    you have a migraine/hangover
    and your tiny arms cannot reach
            the painkillers...

"STOP THAT!" the lander frame says, targeting the source of everyone's misery and engaging the disruptor.

There's a SNAP and the pressure goes away completely. Inside the shell of illusion, M.O.D.O.C. is having a nightmare. His little sister, Maniacal Obscenity Created Only for Pestering, has broken his latest acquisition, the first edition, only-56-made, mint condition Hummel Unicorn, and is dancing with her tiny feet on the broken shards. And behind her she has applied FINGERNAIL POLISH LIPSTICK GRINS to the rest of his Hummel set. This is the nightmare he's locked himself into under the distractive influence of the misery ray that the actual robot is using.

Meanwhile, the purloined person of the smaller more humanlike robot body has been moved away with subtle skill by the technokinetic power of the Lander. This leaves an opening. The surprising appearance of a Stardust Golfing With AIM video shoot causes M.O.D.O.C. to abruptly depart the scene. He's armored, he's defended, and he's tough, but he's still a golf ball. He will land safely, if that word can be used for plopping into the section of the East River which is a confluence between the dumping on the Jersey side and the dumping from Manhattan, of chemicals and garbage.

However, all is not lost. The actual Hummel figure, in its M.O.D.O.C. designed protective stasis field, is unharmed! It was just a nightmare! The Precious is unharmed. Now if those idiots would stop playing at Ghostbuster and come pick him up before someone UNDESIRABLE shows up ...


Meanwhile back in Central Park, the tank is Messed Up, the robot drone body is still somewhat floaty, and the Lander Chassis is engulfing it because it needs to figure out where all the gravitons went so they can be restored.

Alexander Dubois (1261) has posed:
When all that music starts up outside, part of the fog pokes out of the tank. It vaguely looks like it's in the shape of the head of the young man who'd breathed out all that foggy smoke. One might be forgiven for imagining a 'seriously, what even the hell?' expression on the foggy face.

Though soon enough he's got bigger problems -- there are people trying to lure him over to a place he can get captured at! And in short order, Alexander has to flee the machine, or risk getting put in a jar! Getting out takes some doing, because these pathways are all confusing. And some of that smoke is getting drawn back towards their little lure thingie. It takes concentration to keep the bulk of his ectoplasm together.

However, just before he exits the machine, he concentrates his ionized charge, and then lets the charge loose in a burst! Then he flees the machine proper, the smoke falling out the opposite side that the lure thingie is being used on, spreading out in the grass as it falls. The astute beekeeper could probably follow it as it flees back to Alexander's inert form.

That said, there's still a crapton of slime inside that tank, and he did just ionize its electrical insides!

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"FOOOOORE! Good job, unidentified flying-" wait, he needs an O or the joke to work, THINK QUICKLY BRAIN "-Objectified woman!" WAIT NO THAT'S NOT IT GODDAMNIT! DIVERSION, DIVERSION, CHANGE SUBJECT!

"Great hit, by the way, you sure have a way with ba-"

The cavalcade of inappropriate conversation tree choices comes at an end abruptly, thankfully, because Vorpal notices someone coming after the Fog. A REAL distraction, thank goodness!

"Oh no you don't!" the Cheshire cat charges forward and seems to shift as he runs. From a fairly humanoid feline superhero, he transforms into a massive creature, all muscle, sinew, and slavering maw, resembling what Sabertooth tigers want to be when they grow up. The beast charges at the Beekeper, claws ready to murderate.

It also moves conveniently slower than the Beepeker. Should they, you know, decide to flee. Because otherwise the illusion gambit is going to backfire somewhat horrible...

Stardust has posed:
As the mental blast hits her, Stardust tumbles unceremoniously out of the sky, rolls, and clutches her hands to her ears as if it was a deafening noise rather than a mental assault. "Shut up! Everyone shut up!" she calls out through gritted teeth.

Then the wave subsides and Stardust gets to her feet, shakes her head violently as if trying to get cobwebs out of her hair, and takes a deep breath. "Yeah, me too," she mutters as she looks around at the... mess. o0(I wonder who cleans all this up. Glad it's not me. Those guys are the REAL heroes, here.)

"Hey. Green fog. Why is there green fog? Is it good green fog, or bad green fog?" Stardust turns to the cat guy... cat... cat. Big cat. "Oh, whatever." With a sigh, she hops back up into the air and joins the chase.

  "Here mousey mousey!" she calls to the bee-keeper as she speeds after, and quickly overtakes, the lagging saber-toothed kitty. She's planning more of a swoop, grab, lift and drop into the top of a tree until the police arrive kind of deal, rather than letting him flee!

StarDrake has posed:
There //IS// a metric crapton of slime in the tank, and all five of the AIM beekeeper-clad science malcontents within are intimately aware of the slime, as it has gotten into their suits and is exploring places where you only want a close friend to put slippery slime. This has caused four of the five to push the "Emergency End Mission" button in their vote-a-mission device. The fifth, however, has activated the Holographic Decoy Beekeeper and it's running around after the smoke-being. The manipulation arm (it looks like a giant plunger on a longer handle) has emerged and is pointing itself at the fleeing smoke, when the eye-on-a-stick moves up and sees the OH NO TYRANNOSAURUS CORNISH REX! and the fifth one pushes the Big Red Button.

Immediately the five AIM scientists disappear from within the tank, and various parts of it catch on fire. They appear with a THUNK similar to the sound of a pneumatic mail tube being delivered, each in their own personal Telepod Escape Receiver. Their tubes begin to open, and the "mission aborted" signal reaches the automated AIM retrieval unit, and M.O.D.O.C. is now located and translocated. As the five beekeepers remove their headgear, the giant head with tiny arms and legs and a butt-rocket chair, appears, the fire in his butt-rocket out. Along with him comes a meter-larger hemisphere of East River water, the stuff he was floating in.

The scientists are now ... thoroughly wet.

The robot Lander sighs, and says, "What is WRONG with this version of Earth? Every time I come here, something weirder happens. I kinda get Rocket's point about the place."