Narrator: You’ve all heard of the Good Timeline, the Neutral Timeline, the Bad Timeline…this one’s about the Sad Timeline. See, Golem and his friends used to party day and night. It was all they could think about, even when they were saving the world. But one by one, they stopped showing up. It got to the point that Golem threw a party and no one came. In the span of a few years, they’d all forgotten how to party. Even Golem.
~~~
Golem: There’s a Lawrence Welk special on tonight. Stop hogging the TV.
Big Al: Shut up. I’m watching NASCAR. They only have 4,000 laps to go!
Golem: I’ve been sitting here counting my Vorpal Brand Extra Plain Pretzel Sticks for three hours while you watched this race.
~~The TV Cuts to Commercial~~
Vorpal: Are you tired of sensory overload every time you bite into a pretzel? Do you hate it when that one piece of salt gets right between your lip and your gums, up in the corner where you can’t get it out until it dissolves? You know what I'm talking about. Well fret no more, thanks to Vorpal Brand Extra Plain Pretzel Sticks! Food will never rock your tastebuds like a tornad—oh, come on. That’s not even how the line goes.
~~
Golem: I can’t even muster the energy to put them in a bowl.
Big Al: Well that’s too bad. I get the TV every Sunday through Saturday. You traded TV privileges for being Head of the Party Committee.
Golem: SIGH
Big Al: Look, I’m sorry. I know things haven’t been fun around here. And I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your last party. We all have a lot going on, you know?
Golem: SIGH
Narrator: Just then, the doorbell rang, and a slip of paper appeared under the door. It was sealed with a balloon sticker.
Golem: What, ho? A party invitation.
Big Al: Meh.
~~
Narrator: Meanwhile, at the community college.
Ditto: And so you see, the British Empire spread not only due to its ruthless efficiency, but because of the well-documented effects of tea and handlebar mustaches in exerting authority.
TA: Professor McCloaker?
Ditto: Yes?
TA: I don’t know how to tell you this, but all the students left. Anglo Studies just isn’t a popular subject these days.
Ditto: Yes, well, stiff upper lip and all that. As, I was saying—
TA: Professor McCloaker?
Ditto: What now? I’m in the middle of a lecture.
TA: An invitation arrived in the mail for you.
Ditto: What, ho? Are you quite sure? I wouldn’t have taken you as old enough to know what one looked like.
TA: My gram showed me a photo, once.
~~
Narrator: Meanwhile in a run-down apartment, SteveT sits at the table. He hears a knock on the door.
SteveT: Enter.
Narrator: Luiigii of the Pipes steps inside.
SteveT: You.
Luiigii: Yes, me indeed. Who else would have come here?
SteveT: Someone I never tried to kill for trespassing before?
Luiigii: Please. We both know those days are behind you, ever since the parties stopped.
SteveT: The worst part is that I wasn’t the one who stopped them.
Luiigii: No. The worst part is that you miss them.
SteveT: Did you come here to read my mind with your mystical powers, or do you want something?
Luiigii: Actually, I was…hoping you had a spare bedroom. Me and the wife…ex-wife...I just got divorced. She even took the box.
Narrator: Years ago, SteveT would have threatened him, or enlisted him as a minion. But it wasn’t years ago anymore. SteveT had been living alone. Even the other members of the SteveTrio had abandoned him, and even a former enemy was still company.
SteveT: Can you make tacos?
Luiigii: If I had the money to buy ingrediants. And hey, I found this outside your door. My name is also on it. Someone must have known I’d be coming here.
SteveT: A party invitation?
Luiigii: I know. It’s like they didn’t even know whose apartment this was. What, ho?
SteveT: Hmm. Well, may as well buff out some of this rust. It’ll give me something to do.
~~
Narrator: Meanwhile, the S.S. Swordfeller soared majestically through the skies, laden with priceless treasures from around the world: The Statue of Liberty, the Lunar Lander, The Great Wall of China, and even the Shroud of Turin.
Masamune: Avast! Mast to starboard! Pickleswab the steerage! Ballast me hearties!
GORE-illa: You told me there would be things, such as faces, to punch.
Masamune: How was I supposed to know that no one cared about defending priceless treasures from around the world?
GORE: Can I at least punch your crew?
Masamune: Look, I let ye tear the Statue of Liberty out of ‘er foundation, did I not? That must be countin’ for something.
GORE: It took the edge off, but what’s the point of going on an international crime spree if no one mounts a defense? I should have had to climb the Statue of Liberty and fight of helicopters, but everyone was too busy being depressed to even look at us.
Masamune: Aye. What a world we live in, ‘tis sure.
GORE: So what do we steal next?
Narrator: Masamune shook his head and grabbed hold of the wheel.
Masamune: There be nothin’ left but to bury this treasure. Ramming speed, boys! Time to set this ship to ground!
Narrator: Just then, Dodo fluttered down from the crow’s nest with an envelope in his beak.
Masamune: What ho, a party?
GORE: *Punches Dodo*
~~
Narrator: Meanwhile, in the secret bunker!
Minion: Reporting in, my lord.
Shadowy Figure: And have you sent the invitations?
Minion: Yes, my lord.
Shadowy Figure: Excellent. This party will go down in history…as the day the Party Goers met their end!
Minion: What, ho!

*And Dodo is sent blasting off again.*

Masamune: Oi, and I never got to congratulate him on his marriage.

GORE: You're particularly piratey today, Masa. Is it because of the Captain Jack Sparrow-os?

Masamune: Aye, me breakfast has been much more balanced.

GORE: Now how do you think is the best way to not go to this party? We could always just sell all this priceless stuff. With that money, we could fuel our RP accounts for ages. Maybe even three months!

Masamune: Nay - they belong in a muse - er, underground! Yarrrr!

GORE: That's it!

*GORE punches at Masa's face at the same time that Masa tries to backhand his. This results in a cataclysmic blast that sends them to opposite sides of the deck, breathing heavily.*

Masamune: Maybe we do need to go seem 'em.

GORE: Maybe you're right, man. Sure, we've got friends and all now, but who are we going to abuse?

Masamune: Very well. Mister GORE, set course for the party!

GORE: Yip yip!

Sapphire: (pokes head out of a porthole) I'm trying to sleep here.

GORE: Hey, we're going to a party-

Sapphire: No. (slams porthole shut.)

*Masa and GORE have parallel romantic songs on different sides of the deck as stars dot the sky, singing of how they miss striking Golem and Luiigii, respectively.*

Narrator: As the Swordefeller continued to soar through the sky in its third consecutive post, Masa and GORE began to feel comfortable at the thought there were the main protagonists.

Masa: Hey GORE, I think we're going to be the main protagonists.

GORE: My fist is the main protagonist.

Masa: ~gently holds GORE's fist~ I know, GORE. I know.

~But as they continued to fly far away from the place where they had buried the loot, a flying billboard appeared in the sky, hosted by Tumblr.

"Come to the Party Store, run by the Completely Politically Correct Middle Eastern Man Who Has A Name And You Horrible Racists Should Feel Awful For Not Remembering It"~

Masa: I really hate Tumblr sometimes.

GORE: ~finishes reblogging the billboard~ Uh, yeah, me too. But hey. We should get party stuff.

Masa: Do we ever know what party stuff is anymore?

GORE: Umm... Well. There's the you know. Things. That you put on your body. Head, maybe? And the crunchy crunch... crunch. Stuff.

Masa: Ah yes. Scones. Very well, off to the Party Store, run by that jerk Arab Dude!

Narrator: And so, Masamune landed his ship outside the party store and was entirely unapologetic for not giving Arab Dude his proper name.

Arab Dude: Welcome to the Party Store! My name is is Arab Al-Dude.

Narrator: Well shit.

Arab Dude: What can I get for you today.

GORE: ~pumps fists~ Give us all your scones!

Masa: And briiiiiiing a keeeeeg!!!

~From behind a shelf, Ditto McCloaker with an armload of board games suddenly pops up and excitedly adds:~

Ditto: BRING IT!

Narrator: Back in the apartment, Luiigii felt a tingling underneath his skull.

Luiigii: I feel a disturbance in the force. Someone has called dibs on protagonist.

SteveT: Already? No party going chump is going to out-spotlight me! Liger, fire up the Led Zeppelin!

Narrator: But like I mentioned before, the SteveTrio had disbanded.

SteveT: *Starts opening cabinets and tilting up the furniture.* Usually, I know his hiding spots, but every few months, he manages to find a new one.
Luiigii: I sense no other beings in this place.

SteveT: And what’s with all this Jedi nonsense? I thought you were just some hobo with a mop fetish.

Luiigii: It was all that partying. It suppressed my latent powers.

SteveT: All the booze, more like.

Luiigii: *Shugs* Could be.

SteveT: Change of subject! Maybe you can mystic up an answer for me. Suppose, hypothetical question, that you have to go to a party, but your airship pilot has gone missing, and he’s the only one who knows how to operate the cannons anyway. How do you get inside?

Luiigii: Do you have a fairy godmother?

Narrator: Steve shook his head, grimly.

Luiigii: *Feels a great disturbance* What the? Never got a handle on the powers after I got them back. How do you feel about taxis?

SteveT: Fascinating. Minion, I’m promoting you to Chief Party Consultant.

Luiigii: Thanks?

Golem: Thanks for coming to the party with me.

Big Al: Well you couldn't drive, and i needed smokes.

Golem: You don't smoke.

Big Al: The time I spend with you makes me want to start.

Golem: Where are we anyway.

~A tumbleweed blows through the intersection.~

Big Al: Damned if I know. I thought you were the one who knew where we were going.

Golem: Why would I know where I'm going? I've always had other people for that.

Big Al: You need to be more self reliant. You can't just have everyone making important life decisions for you, driving you everywhere, inviting you to parties.

~The vehicle runs over a pedestrian in a dog costume.~

Golem: You just hit a guy!

Big Al: It's not illegal if we don't get caught.

Golem: You spend WAY too much time with Flutter.

Big Al: Flutter!

~The vehicle does a 180° turn, and returns to the fallen pedestrian. Al rolls his window down~

Big Al: What the hell are you doing in the middle of the road?

Flutter: Trying to get you to stop so I could come with you.

Big Al: You don't look like a damn squirrel to me.

~Flutter takes off his dog costume~

Flutter: Rats, I knew it was one of those two things. Can I get a ride?

Big Al: Why not? Golem wants to go to a party, you can come, even though no one invites you to parties except Masamune.

Golem: Except Masamune is throwing this party.

Flutter: Oh so that's what that was. I knew I should have learned to read.

Big Al: Wait, your invitation says "Steve T." on it. Are there two parties?

Golem: Something is rotten in the Jeep Grand Cherokee.

Big Al: I'm sorry. I've been holding it in for the last hour and a half.

Golem: Roll down a window-oh. Good job.

Big Al: Always thinking ahead.