BK3: End of Dreams - Part V-2

Banjo-Kazooie 3: The End of Dreams - Part V</b>
ACT II

5:00 AM – 1 hour left until the End of Dreams

MUMBO

As the dozens of Jinjos peer down at them, Mumbo and Humba stare blankly, as if they were two gazelles looking at a lion just a few feet away. A yellow Jinjo plucks plaque out of his teeth with a toothpick. A red Jinjo bats his hand with a stick, practicing up for his next beat-down. All the other Jinjos have a scornful look on their faces that communicates nothing but death to anyone in the vicinity.
“So… How Jinjos doing?” asks Mumbo with a nervous and twitchy smile. What little expression he can make with his boney face, it comes across in full force. A figure enters Humba’s tent from the entrance, fully cloaked. The figure stops in front of Mumbo and takes off his hood. The Gold Jinjo stands idly for a few seconds.
“So this is the infamous Brown Jinjo?” says the Gold Jinjo in a somewhat snooty tone. “Perhaps my men need better eye care…” The Gold Jinjo starts to walk across Mumbo’s path and looks down at the floor.
“But Captain…” says the same red Jinjo from before, clearly out of order. It’s then that Mumbo realizes that these Jinjos aren’t part of a cult. They’re a private sect of militant Jinjos. “…the witch over there used her magic to transform him! He was a brown Jinjo! All of us saw him! Isn’t that right, boys?” asks the red Jinjo trying to garner support. The other Jinjos merely nod and agree in low tones, probably in order to show respect to the Gold Jinjo.
“I’ve heard enough.” says the Gold Jinjo with impatience in his voice. “This woman isn’t a witch. She’s a humble medicine woman.” Gold Jinjo makes a slight laugh at Humba’s expense. Humba gives off a vibe that can be felt throughout the tent. “Now… What I want is these two executed, thank you.” The Gold Jinjo waves his hand at Mumbo and Humba, signaling to the other Jinjos to take them away. This quickly prompts Mumbo and Humba to form together on one side of the pool with their wands firmly held into the air. The Jinjos start to gather around the Gold Jinjo in attack mode.
“Mumbo not go so easily!” says Mumbo waving his shaman stick in the air. The top starts to glow bright yellow and awaits its master’s orders.
“It not polite to arrest Humba in Humba own tent!” says Humba with a slight smirk on her face, as if she were enjoying this deep down inside.
“Hah…” laughingly scoffed the Gold Jinjo. “I suppose you two are more than what you seem… The same can be said of us Jinjos… I suppose I can understand that.” The Jinjos assume their peaceful positions. “I won’t arrest you now… But I must know: Why… Why did you take that blue Jinjo from our camp?” asks the Gold Jinjo turning his head to the Blue Jinjo head lying on the floor.
“Well… Blue Jinjo was… Mumbo friend.” says Mumbo looking down, then up again to maintain his stance. Humba looks at Mumbo, then back at the Gold Jinjo.
“Interesting…” says the Gold Jinjo, muttering under his breath. “So then, Gruntilda the witch has given them emotions now?”
“What was that Gold Jinjo saying?” asks Mumbo, lowering his staff to get a better look at the Gold Jinjo.
“Hm? Oh, nothing…” says the Gold Jinjo turning back to them and giving off a vaguely flirtatious look. “Listen, we’re sorry about barging in on you like this. We’ll make our leave promptly. Come along, Jinjos.” The Jinjos begin to follow the Gold Jinjo while he lifts his hood back over his head, while Mumbo and Humba look at each other in confusion, then look back at the Jinjos.
“Wait! What Jinjo army doing in woods?!? Why try to take Blue Jinjo?!?” asks Mumbo with anger in his voice. He starts waving his arms around with his shaman stick almost taking out a yellow Jinjo’s eye. The Gold Jinjo looks back at Mumbo, pausing as he raised his hood over his head, then lowering it back down again. The Gold Jinjo starts to walk to Mumbo.
“We’re not obliged to tell you anything, Shaman.” says the Gold Jinjo with a commanding, yet soft voice. Mumbo looks deep into the Gold Jinjo’s eyes, then a smile creeps across his boney face. He picks up Blue Jinjo’s head and aims it at the Gold Jinjo.
“Want laser eye treatment?” asks Mumbo tauntingly as the Blue Jinjo’s eyes begin to glow. The Gold Jinjo puts on a sly face.
“Clever, Shaman… It’s simple, really. We are a secret military operation commissioned under direct authority of King Jingaling. The Jinjos lead a relatively simple life—a perfect ruse to catch our enemies off-guard. The Jinjos that helped Banjo in the first game? You’re welcome. The Jinjonator? Our ambassador to the King himself. We’ll have no problem dispatching the witch. We strike tomorrow at midnight!” as the Gold Jinjo raps up his speech, the rest of the Jinjos cheer.
“Huh…” says Mumbo. “Gold Jinjo not even aware of what happening… Ha ha ha.” Mumbo begins to laugh. The Gold Jinjo’s eyebrows lower in the middle as he looks down at Mumbo, bent over from laughter.
“What? What are you talking about?!?” asks the Gold Jinjo with an exasperated tone. Mumbo can only laugh harder. As he regains his speech again, he stands upright again, muttering slight laughs.
“Gold Jinjo not even stop to think, Why robot Jinjos?” Mumbo squints at the Gold Jinjo with one eye.
“I’ll admit that witch is clever, but that only shows how twisted she can be.” says the Gold Jinjo as the other Jinjos agree.
“That what Mumbo think too… at first… Then Mumbo consider Mumbo situation. After taking Blue Jinjo from camp, Mumbo realize something: Mumbo worst nightmare… is becoming Jinjo.” The other Jinjos begin chatting to each other in disbelief as the Gold Jinjo’s eyes widen with shock. He settles his men down, then looks back at Mumbo.
“And why is that, pray tell?” asks the Gold Jinjo.
“Because Jinjos weak… helpless… powerless.” says Mumbo with a dark and soft voice. The other Jinjos begin to come closer and an expression of disgust is conveyed on their faces.
“I’ll show ya weak!” says a deep-voiced Jinjo in the back.
“Help THIS!” says a Jinjo raising his fist and shaking it. The Gold Jinjo stretches his arms out.
“Now, now… Calm down…” The other Jinjos stop advancing and back up. The Gold Jinjo looks back at Mumbo. “Refrain from the insults, Shaman. Speak your peace.” says the Gold Jinjo with fairness in his voice. This makes Mumbo change his attitude to one of a more reasonable nature.
“Mumbo never tell ANYONE Mumbo biggest fear… That only mean one thing…” Mumbo pauses for a brief second while looking around to the other Jinjos. “…It is US that bring worst fears to life!” The Jinjos gasp and start rumbling with chatter. The Gold Jinjo furrows one eyebrow in confusion.
“Hmmm… That’s very interesting, Shaman… In retrospect, your theory becomes more apparent… Yes… I believe even our worst threat has presented itself.” The Gold Jinjo looks over at the Blue Jinjo head. The teepee goes silent as only breaths can be heard.
“We need plan.” says Mumbo candidly.
“My full Jinjonian force is behind you. I say we strike now before it’s too late.” says the Gold Jinjo. The other Jinjos cheer in acceptance of the plan.
“NO!” Mumbo interrupts. The Jinjos quiet down abruptly. “Jinjos not make it there in time! Grunty Lair too far away. At sunrise… it will be too late.” Says Mumbo looking down with sudden clarity in his voice. The Jinjos and Humba gasp. Humba comes over to Mumbo.
“What Mumbo mean sunrise? How Mumbo know for sure?”
“Heard from witch. Hag made broadcast of plot and showed Mumbo when was in woods with Blue Jinjo.”
“And what happen at sunrise?” asks Humba, worried.
“End of Dreams…” Mumbo looks down as he slinks away.
“What that mean?” Humba looks at Mumbo as he turns away.
“It means that this… manifested dream… go away… We all die.” Humba and the Jinjos have the look of people whose fates have been sealed. The Gold Jinjo snaps out of it and walks closer to Mumbo.
“There must be something we can do! How can you just stand there like that? Our beloved land is on the cusp of DEATH!”
“Like what?” asks Mumbo with sarcasm in his voice. “Only 40 minutes left until sunrise! It take miracle to get everyone to Grunty Lair from here!” Mumbo turns away again as the Gold Jinjo closes his eyes and looks down.
“Ha ha… Hahahahaha…hmmm.” Humba tries to restrain herself from laughing. Mumbo turns around.
“What Humba laughing at?!? Humba think this funny?!? Apocalypse funny to Humba!?!?” Mumbo puts his hands at his sides and steam starts to come from his ears. Humba still tries to constrain herself.
“Ha ha… Humba thinking it HAVE to be miracle because Humba know big heep spell that only two shaman can pull off.” Humba gives Mumbo a wink. “That mean Mumbo and Humba working together. If that not miracle, Humba not know what is.” Mumbo’s eye lids slide down and he begins to smile devilishly. The Jinjos show relief in their faces and the Gold Jinjo stands by comfortably watching Mumbo and Humba.
“Ha ha. Maybe Mumbo wrong all these years… Humba actually pretty clever.” says Mumbo while kicking the floor. Humba laughs softly. “Humba also just plain pretty.” A nervous smile shows on Mumbo’s face. “Er, uh, Mumbo means just pretty. Not plain… Not that Humba only pretty! Ha ha.” Mumbo begins to stammer. Meanwhile the Gold Jinjo looks over to the other Jinjos and makes a gesture with his hands. The other Jinjos hoot and cheer after seeing it, causing Mumbo and Humba to look back at them.
“Ahem. Sorry… Anyway, Humba was saying?” says Mumbo rubbing his chin as he pays attention to Humba. Humba steps forward.
“Well…” Humba pulls out a spell book and plops it on the floor. “Spell called ‘Fateor Vicis Imperium’. Literally translated means ‘Reverse Time Control’. It give us power to travel back in time two hours. That give us whole 2 hours and 30 minutes to get there!” The Jinjos begin to cheer.
“Hm, that good spell…” says Mumbo. He looks in the book at the next spell. “What this spell?”
“That? That spell to stop time for one minute. Spell would be much good, but it take power of three shaman to pull off.”
“Hm…” While Humba looks the other way, Mumbo rips out the page “COUGH!” and closes the book. He folds up the piece of paper and puts it in his grass skirt. The Jinjos follow the Gold Jinjo outside. Humba stops at the doorway and looks back at Mumbo.
“Coming Mumbo?” asks Humba. Mumbo looks down at Blue Jinjo’s head. He scoops it up and holds it for a second. He puts it down again, and walks outside with Humba. As they go outside, Mumbo and Humba stand across from each other as the Jinjos watch. Mumbo waves his shaman stick and Humba does the same with her wand. Mumbo and Humba start reciting an incantation.
“FATEOR VICIS IMPERIUM PRO SULUM HIC, FATEOR VICIS IMPERIUM PRO SULUM HIC, FATEOR VICIS IMPERIUM PRO SULUM HIC, FATEOR VICIS IMPERIUM PRO SULUM HIC…” As Mumbo and Humba recite the spell, water in the lake begins to slow its trickling, then reverses direction. Trees and animals all stop moving at once, then begin jumping and moving backwards. The moon starts moving up in the sky. Time begins to slow down to normal and things start moving normally again. They begin to finish their chant. “EXPLIO!”

3:30 AM – 2 hours and 30 minutes left until the End of Dreams

“Very good.” says the Gold Jinjo. “You two are more talented than I originally gave you credit for…” Mumbo and Humba look at each other with smiles, then back at the Gold Jinjo. “Well, let’s go.” The Gold Jinjo begins walking as the Jinjos follow him. Mumbo and Humba follow, then Mumbo begins to speed up alongside the Gold Jinjo.
“By the way, Mumbo name not ‘Shaman’. It Mumbo.”
“I know.”
“How Gold Jinjo know Mumbo name?”
“Because you say it in every sentence.”
The group begins their journey to Spiral Mountain. They pass monuments along the way, everything from Quagmire and Pine Grove to Wooded Hollow and Jinjo Village. Finally, they arrive in Spiral Mountain with two hours remaining.

4:00 AM – 2 hours left until the End of Dreams

As they make their way up the Spiral Mountain, they stop at the broken bridge. In the distance, Banjo can be seen walking to his home with Shades, but no one in the group notices.
“Look like Mumbo need fix broken bridge. Stand back!” Mumbo rolls up his imaginary sleeves.
“Mumbo—” says Humba.
“Please. Mumbo need concentrate.” barks Mumbo, interrupting Humba. He turns to the broken bridge and lifts up his staff. He closes his eyes and begins to repeat his usual chant. “EEKUM BOKUM, EEKUM BOKUM, EEKUM BOKUM DEEJOMON…” Mumbo pauses as he notices an absence of magic in his casting. “What happening? Mumbo staff defective!” Mumbo eyes his staff up and down, examining it for flaws.
“Mumbo,” says Humba. “what Humba trying to say is magic need big heep charge after using time travel spell.” Mumbo turns around with a confused and disappointed look upon his face.
“Awww…” says Mumbo with a sunken face. Humba comes over to console him.
“Well, history has proved it again and again.” says the Gold Jinjo with a glint in his eye. “It looks as if the time has come for menial and conventional methods once again. MEN! Create a bridge leading straight to the lair!” The Jinjos climb one on top of the other, creating a veritable totem pole of Jinjos. The height exceeds 20 feet when they fall straight to the mouth of Grunty’s Lair and grab onto it. The Gold Jinjo gestures with his hands to Mumbo and Humba that a new path has opened. “After you.”
“Hmph…” scoffs Mumbo eyeing the Jinjo bridge. “Mumbo magic could do better.” Mumbo starts to walk across the bridge.
“Of course Mumbo could.” says the Gold Jinjo, partially patronizing Mumbo. Humba starts crossing the bridge after Mumbo.
“Humba like walking on Jinjos. Jinjos Squishy!”
“Will ya hurry it up, lady!? This ain’t like a taxi cab!!” says the Red Jinjo from before. The Gold Jinjo follows after Humba and they all make their way to the lair. The Jinjos pull themselves up and soon everyone is inside. Mumbo looks around the lair.
“Hm… What happen here?” asks Mumbo. The traditional entrance to the lair is blocked off with rocks and boulders while the entrance to Mumbo’s Mountain is free from blockage. Suddenly, a hovering book comes into view from the shadows. “CHEATO!”
“Yes, friends. It’s your old friend Cheato. At the end of Banjo-Tooie, when Gruntilda came back to life through the fears of the inhabitants of the world, Gruntilda found me again and ripped out all the pages that Banjo and Kazooie found for me.”
“Wow.” says Mumbo with his eyes widened. “Bear and Bird not going to like that.”
“Could you all perhaps get them back for me?” asks Cheato. The crew pauses and looks at each other.
“No…” says the Gold Jinjo. “We don’t have time for that right now. We need to get to Gruntilda’s Lair and stop the witch before it’s too late. We’re on a tight schedule. Please, move out of the way.” The Gold Jinjo gestures his hand to have his Jinjos take the book away, but Cheato speaks up.
“Wait! I could help you! I came from a secret tunnel that leads straight to Grunty’s secret hide-away. When I came through that tunnel over there, some rocks fell and trapped me in here.” Cheato motions over to the rocks that are blocking the tunnel to the rest of the lair. Mumbo looks on and shakes his head.
“Hm. Wonder if Mumbo magic come back.” Mumbo tries lifting up the rocks as he repeats his chant. “EEKUM BOKUM, EEKUM BOKUM, EEKUM BOKUM DEEJOMON…” He peaks open his eyes and sees some rocks levitating. He smiles at his momentary success, then the rocks fall down again. “Awww… Mumbo let down twice in same day…” Mumbo slinks away. The Gold Jinjo looks around to his Jinjos.
“You know the drill.” says the Gold Jinjo making his hand gesture. The Jinjos start lifting rocks one by one, removing the blockage. The Gold Jinjo walks over to Humba, Mumbo and Cheato. He pulls out a cup o’ tea and begins to sip it. “You know, it really is hard to find good help these days.” whispers The Gold Jinjo looking at the Jinjos working. By the time the Gold Jinjo finishes drinking his tea, he turns around to see the Jinjo’s work.
“Wait, why did you block the entrance to Mumbo’s Mountain? You idiots.”
“Sorry, Sir! There was nowhere else to put them!” says the Red Jinjo. They start to make their way to the edge of the tunnel and they stop at the long steep incline. Cheato makes his way to the front.
“Hah, don’t worry about that. Here.” Cheato turns around a simple-looking rock sitting on the ground. Suddenly, stairs pop up on the incline, making it traversable. “Just between you and me, this secret’s been here for ages! Ha ha!” They begin to climb the stairs. On his way up, Mumbo mutters under his breath to Humba,
“Heh, Bear and Bird going to be mad with Cheato when this all over with…” Humba nods her head and stifles a laugh. As they make their way to the top of the staircase and look ahead, the Jiggy podium for Treasure Trove Cove is broken still, but the platform with Grunty’s face on it isn’t defaced. The Red Jinjo comes up to it and puts his hands on his waist.
“All right, this has GOT to go!” The Red Jinjo takes out a can of red paint and paints a giant red X across Grunty’s face.
“Was that really necessary? Come on. Stop being a Jinjoey.” says the Gold Jinjo slapping the Red Jinjo across the back of his head.
“Now, the secret passage is actually opened up by pressing down those two switches.” Cheato points to the switches in Grunty’s eyes on the floor. “In Banjo-Kazooie, pressing them one at a time produced a Jiggy… Press them both at the same time, however…” Two Jinjos jump on Grunty’s eyes and an “OUCH!” can be heard. “…and you open up a secret passage that leads straight to Grunty’s secret hide-away!” On the right, a fake wall comes down and a stairway replaces it. Mumbo looks over at Cheato with his mouth open. “Too bad Banjo and Kazooie couldn’t use their split-up maneuver—that they learned in Banjo-Tooie—in here.”
“Seriously, Cheato want death wish?” asks Mumbo.
“Hey, they don’t call me Cheato for nothing, right?” Mumbo bobs his head from side to side in agreement. They walk up the stairway and the fake wall replaces the stairway again. The stairway goes on for miles. Mumbo and Humba begin to grow fatigued and the Gold Jinjo is being carried by his Jinjo underlings. Cheato seems to be doing fine, however. “I’m sorry it’s so far away. I forgot how difficult it must be to have legs! Hah!” Mumbo looks up at Cheato ahead of him and stretches out his arms.
“Mumbo… swear… Mumbo… going… to… kill… Cheato…” Humba briefly holds Mumbo back. Soon, they reach the end of the line, and it’s just a dead end. “What? All this way and it dead end? MUMBO KILL CHEA—” As Mumbo reaches out his arms, Cheato turns another rock and the fake wall moves to the side to reveal the interiors of a dungeon. Mumbo relaxes his arms as he peers through the doorway. Cheato gulps hard as the others pass through. Cheato begins to speak.
“This is where Grunty keeps all of her prisoners. There have been some stashed away here for a good 10 years, give or take.” Suddenly, two voices can be heard from the corridor on the left.
“He’s … been hypno…Grunty to … slave.”
“Well, … have T.T., right? We’ll … use him to zap… out ...”
The voices start to get louder as they get closer to the group.
“Her love slave.”
“EWWW!! You did NOT have to tell me that!” As the voices reach the end of the tunnel, so do the owners of those voices. They look over at Mumbo and the rest of the group with astonishment.
“Who the heck are you guys?” asks Timber. Dingpot notices Cheato and widens his eyes.
“Cheato! Is it really you? I didn’t think you’d come back!”
“Yes, Dingpot, it’s me. I had to show these people the short-cut through Grunty’s Lair.”
“Enough with the small talk.” says the Gold Jinjo losing his temper. “We’re on a serious time-crunch here, people. We need to be directed to Grunty right NOW.” Everyone pauses for a second. Then Timber lowers one eyebrow and comes closer to the Gold Jinjo.
“You think you’re gonna beat the witch with a couple of multi-colored nerds? Hah!” Timber begins laughing.
“That is the second time I’ve been laughed at today.” The Gold Jinjo grabs Timber by the throat and lowers him close to the ground. “Now, I suggest you lead me to Gruntilda the witch or so help me… I’ll send one of my Jinjos to do my dirty work for me, and they don’t show mercy like I do.” Timber looks over to the Red Jinjo who grits his teeth while foam forms on the sides of his mouth. The Gold Jinjo loosens his grip on the tiger, which then begins to cough and wheeze.
“All right… but there’s something we have to do first… We need to set my cohorts free from their cells. Without them, we won’t stand a chance against Grunty.” With that, Timber, Dingpot, Mumbo, Humba, and the Gold Jinjo and his army make their way to the other sects of the dungeon. On their way, they come across a security station with televisions watching every part of the dungeon. Timber sits down at the computers.
“Hm… Looks like they’ve got the whole dungeon wired.” says Timber fiddling with the controls. They look at each of the televisions and Mumbo notices something moving on one of them.
“What that?” asks Mumbo pointing to one of the screens.
“Not sure…” Timber zooms in on the figure. Every single one of them says in unison,
“BANJO…”

BOTTLES

Shuffling into the lair in between the times of Mumbo and Banjo, Bottles is carried by his ghostly ancestors, a shining example of the cohesiveness of the mole lineage. By this time, the damage to the lair is done. The only thing left to do now is to catch up to Banjo and hopefully aid him in the only way the moles can: through teaching.
The moles stop at the fallen, burned Grunty portrait. The camera zooms into Bottles’ dream bubble, zooming through clouds, heading downward until a hilltop comes into view with the sun cresting over the hill. Bottles is seen standing on the top of the hill with an apple tree nearby. Bottles looks around his surroundings and then some figures start to appear in front of him.
“Woah! It’s… Granny Focal! And… and Crazy Cousin Bozzeye. You know, your riddles are confusing! Just thought you should know that… And look, it’s Auntie… er, Uncle Lenses.”
“Yes, the sex-change was successful.” says Uncle Lenses joyfully while wrapping his arm around Bottles.
“That’s… good.” says Bottles uncomfortably. “So… What’s up with all this portal hopping?” Bottles says, addressing the rest of the moles.
“Well…” says Granny Focal with an unsure expression on her face. “The problem lies with you, Bottles.” Bottles has a look of disgust and surprise on his face.
“Me? What are you talking about? Yeah, like I really enjoy tumbling from one dangerous scenario to the other.” Bottles crosses his arms and turns away.
“That’s not what I mean…” says Granny Focal, coming closer behind Bottles. “The problem lies in your subconscious. You’re unwilling to wake up because you keep having this unrelenting desire to not just teach, but learn, so that you can continue to teach what you’ve learned, and so on.” Bottles’ eyes sink as tears well up in his eyes. “It’s a never-ending cycle, Bottles, and at this rate, you’ll never wake up.” Granny Focal puts her hand on Bottles shoulder. Bottles turns his head to the side and begins to speak softly.
“Well then… what can I do to stop it?”
“I wish I could tell you, young Bottles… but you have to find your own answer. My best advice would be for you to just… take control.” Granny removes her hand from Bottles’ shoulder and begins walking away. Bottles turns around to see the other moles walking away as well. They begin to fade away. Suddenly, Uncle Lenses turns around before fading away.
“Oh, and say hello to your mom for me.” Then he winks and nudges his elbow. Bottles cringes as the moles disappear into the air. Bottles looks around, then begins walking down the hill. He passes two hills, then three. He begins to wonder when something else will pop up in the distance, but it’s nothing but countless hills and valleys.
“Well this is boring…” says Bottles. Suddenly, the hills in front of him begin to sink into the ground, almost as if they were being sucked down from underground. “Well that’s… strange…” Then Bottles notices a cliff advancing. Bottles realizes that it’s a giant hole spreading across the land, sucking down anything in its path. Bottles’ eyes widen and he starts to run up and down the hills, the hole following closely. “Why is it there is no happy medium with these things? You’re either bored out of your mind or running from a giant vacuous hole!” Bottles reaches the top of the hill he first arrived on. He looks onward, but sees nothing else. After the hill is a cliff that has no bottom after it. Bottles looks at the hole coming towards him, then at the bottomless pit. He makes a quick decision and dives head first into the bottomless pit after the cliff. “The way I see it, I’m screwed either waaaaaaaayyyyyy!!!” As Bottles plummets to certain doom, the scenery passes by astronomically fast. While waiting to be flattened by the impending bottom, it occurs to Bottles that he is in the portal again, tumbling faster than he ever had before. He can’t even speak to proclaim his boredom because his cheeks are flapping around his face. A white light is seen rapidly advancing. Bottles enters it and is blinded until it fades to complete dark. Bottles looks into the blackness, until he feels from above the hot, huffing breaths of an unknown tormentor…

Meanwhile...

In the real world, Bottles is being carried by his ancestors, his arms draped over each of theirs while Uncle Lenses holds his feet like an Imperial Indian taxi service. They reach the area with Gruntilda’s face on a large platform leading up a ramp into the next area. It appears quiet. They start to walk down the western staircase to the warp cauldron. When they reach the bottom, they stop.
“Where is it?!?!” asks Granny Focal. The mole spirits drop Bottles, snoring and limping over himself as he dreams. The mole spirits begin turning over rocks and checking every nook and cranny of the area to no avail.
“I’m tellin’ ya, it was those darn Jinjos!” yells Bozzeye turning bright red with horns growing from his skull. “They’re little thieves I tell ya! They cry and cry and cry for help but it’s just one big PLOY so they can get all yer…”
“Shut your trap, Bozzeye!” yells Granny Focal. They all pause briefly. “It wasn’t Jinjos…” She looks down at the floor. “Come here. Both of you.” Bozzeye and Lenses float over to where Granny Focal is and they look where she looks. There’s a puddle of green slime. Laying ride in the middle of it is a Jinjo corpse, staring right back up at the mole spirits. It has big X’s in its eyes with its tongue hanging out of its mouth.
“Well that’s hardly G-rated fair for a game like this.” says Uncle Lenses in an oddly effeminate manner while floating away.
“Well now I just feel bad.” says Bozzeye. “Poor little thief.” Drops start to fall into the puddle. Granny Focal looks up and sees slime caked on the ceiling. She turns her head in puzzlement, then floats up to it.
“No, no, no… no, no, no, no, no…” Granny Focal shakes her head. “This doesn’t seem right at all.” The others turn up at her as she floats back down from the caked slime.
“No, you’re right.” says Bozzeye. “A dead Jinjo doesn’t seem right at all. Aren’t they supposed to be happy little buggers? Fat chance of that now. Ah well…” Granny Focal comes to Bozzeye and raps him on the head with a frying pan. Bozzeye rubs his head in pain.
“You fool. Don’t you see? There’s no life in this lair at all. Did you see any enemies along the way here?”
“Well, uh… No.” says Bozzeye.
“Don’t you think that’s a bit suspect?” says Granny Focal peeling her eyes at Bozzeye and placing her hands on her hips.
“Kinda…” says Bozzeye softly.
“Hah! ‘Kinda’ he says… Clearly something happened here… The answer is around here somewhere…” Granny Focal looks up. “And I have a feeling it’s right above us.”

Meanwhile...

Loud metal noises can be heard from all over. The distance and sheer size of the environment seems infinite to Bottles judging by the sounds. Gusts of wind accompany the sounds, only adding to the sense of the infinitely large space surrounding him.
“Well, well, well…” says a voice in a guttural and deep voice, almost sounding like fire. “What a surprising turn of events. The teacher has become… the student! How interesting!”
“Who said that!?!?” Bottles turns around, while the darkness taunts at his senses. “If it’s Mrs. Bottles, I’m sorry! I didn’t think I’d be out this long!” Bottles yells into the darkness with tears in his eyes.
“Ha haa haaa…” snorts the guttural voice. “You always were a hysterical treat, Bottles…”
“How…” Bottles pauses. “How do you know my name?” He pauses again after not hearing an answer. “Who are you?” A few seconds go by, then stomping can be heard coming towards Bottles. Bottles steps back a few feet. Suddenly, lights illuminate from below, highlighting the massive figure. “…WIZPIG!?!?”
“That’s right, Goggle boy!” Wizpig snorts.
“But… But HOW!?!? Where have you been all this time!?!?”
“How about we play a little game of Hot and Cold? You keep guessing and I’ll let you know when you’re onto me… He hee heee…”
“Hm… Once you were defeated by Timber and his friends, you turned your home planet into a military base. You then started manufacturing enemies for Banjo and Kazooie to fight in Grunty’s Lair, then again on the Isle O’ Hags, all at the request of the new sovereign tyrant, Gruntilda the Witch!” Bottles points his finger at Wizpig, revealing his guiltiness. Wizpig’s eyes shifted from side to side.
“Uhhh… Yeah… How did you know that?”
“I studied the Banjopedia!”
“Well, er, in ANY case, I’m going to FLATTEN you! Mwahahaha!” The lights turn on to reveal bright neon colors swirling around in patterns on the floor while tiny dots of the galaxy spread across the sky. Wizpig begins stampeding towards Bottles. Bottles jumps out of the way as Wizpig slides on his belly.
“You never did learn to effectively pull off the slide maneuver!” says Bottles, laughing at Wizpig looking back at him. Wizpig pushes himself up and turns toward Bottles.
“There are a FEW things I have retained over the years, dear old teacher!” Wizpig jumps into the air, causing a rumble on the ground. Bottles shakes as he looks up to the sky. He sees a figure plummeting towards him, getting larger and uglier. Bottles jumps out of the way.
“TRUFFLE TROUNCE!” Wizpig crashes into the ground, causing a large crater. Bottles looks up at Wizpig as he picks himself off the ground. Bottles gulps as sweat begins to roll off his forehead. Wizpig rolls up into a ball and starts slowly rolling toward Bottles.
“POT-BELLIED BOWLING BALL!” Bottles runs for dear life as the boulder-sized pig rolls toward him. Platforms start falling out of the ground as Bottles skillfully steps around the holes they produced, being careful not to fall into one. Wizpig stops rolling, then jumps into the air and pounds the ground, reducing the platform to about ¼ the size. Bottles makes sure to secure his ground while the other platforms drop off. Wizpig unravels himself out of the ball and starts walking toward Bottles, lightly stomping the ground.
“Do you want to know why you’ll never beat me, Bottles?” says Wizpig as he pauses and gets closer to Bottles.
“No. Why don’t you tell me?” says Bottles sarcastically. Wizpig creeps closer.
“Because the student always eventually surpasses the teacher in skill!” Wizpig snorts and laughs. Wizpig starts to raise a whole field of mines that get psychokinetically lifted into the air by Wizpig’s magical prowess. “Now DIE!!!”

Meanwhile...

The mole spirits grab Bottles and float to the ceiling where the green goo had been falling from. “Alright, let’s g—” says Granny Focal, interrupted by the fact that everyone in the group can pass through the ceiling except for Bottles. Bottles falls to the floor and lands limply on his stomach. “Just great… We need to find a way to get the little chubby through this ceiling.”
“How about we drill through?” suggests Bozzeye. “Though, I have no idea how we’re gonna do THAT!” The moles float idly while they each think of how to solve their dilemma. Suddenly, Granny Focal has an idea.
“Yes… I think I’ve got it.” Granny Focal jumps into Bottles’ body and the rest of the moles look on disgusted.
“And they say I’M perverted.” says Lenses while averting his eyes. Bozzeye gets closer.
“What’re you doin’ in there? That’s just not natural, Sis!” says Bozzeye.
“I’m trying to lift him up. Would you guys come and help me? He’s a biggun!” The mole spirits cringe again. Then Bozzeye’s eyes widen.
“Oh wait, I think I know what you’re tryin’a do! Come on, Lenses, Focal knows the score!” The two mole spirits jump into Bottles’ body. Slowly, Bottles begins to float upwards to the ceiling.
“Alright, fellow moles. On 3, I want you to spin as fast as you can! 1… 2… 3!” Bottles begins spinning like a blender. The moles push Bottles upward and the ceiling begins to chip away. Eventually, Bottles is dug up straight through the ground. The ground starts to become less fertile and more dead as they reach their destination. They reach a wooden board and come to a stop.
“Come on, gang! Push through!” yells out Bozzeye. They begin pushing on the wooden board so hard that it bends from all the pressure. Suddenly, the board snaps in half as they make their way to the surface. They examine their surroundings and see furniture and other appliances made for the home, like lamps and things. The place looks normal, except it’s night time and the moles feel a sense of creepiness from the place.
“Oh dear… Fellow moles, we just dug ourselves right into Mad Monster Mansion.” Granny Focal and the rest wipe the dirt off Bottles as they lift him up. “Well, we must press on. That infernal warp cauldron has to be around here somewhere.” Suddenly, they hear a voice from the outside. They all crowd over to the window and look outside of it.
“—Yeah, don’t worry… I always catch my ghost. There’s not a ghost I’ve met that can take on the power of the Ghoulsucker 3000.”
“Oh my dear word… That’s an, an, an…” Granny Focal stutters.
“—an exorcist.” says Bozzeye eyeing the exorcist talking into his walky-talky. The exorcist wears gray clothing with double yellow track lines going down the sides of his jacket and pants. He’s wearing old, brown boots and what looks to be a gas mask with a long snout hooked up to a Bazza battery on his back. He’s got a hook that replaces one of his hands. He’s also wearing sunglasses, presumably to protect himself from the undead. The figure is also short, but not fat.
“Thanks… I was about to sneeze.” says Granny Focal rubbing her nose. “We have to get out of here… as soon as we find that warp cauldron.”
“Are you crazy, woman? I’m not gonna stay in this house any longer! Our lives are at stake!” yells Bozzeye in an outraged tone. Granny Focal grabs Bozzeye by the wrist and walks over to Bottles. She places his hand around Bottles’ arm and then she grabs the other arm.
“You’re going to do what I say or else… I don’t want to have to get the duct tape out again.” Granny Focal looks forward as Bozzeye takes a gulp. “I’ll make you fix all the broken things in this house if you give me any trouble.” They begin floating with Lenses tailing closely behind.
“You know, this house sure could use a decorator. The whole ‘haunted mansion’ look is so passé.” says Lenses while touching various furniture pieces. Granny Focal and Bozzeye look back at him, then forward again as they enter the kitchen.

Meanwhile...

Wizpig closes his eyes as he thrusts his arms forward. The mines start homing in on Bottles. Without a weapon, Bottles is left helpless. Bottles runs faster as his legs refuse to pick up the pace. The mines float behind him and begin flashing red. As they begin to flash faster, they begin to explode, which sends a chain reaction that explodes the other mines. Before they can catch up to him, Bottles jumps and slides on the ground while the mines overshoot Bottles and explode.
“Whew! That was too close!” Bottles turns around quickly as a shadow looms overhead. Wizpig breathes deeply as Bottles sweats from the forehead and then steps away slowly, getting out of the reach of Wizpig’s fury.
“Do you know what, Bottles? I like you! I’ve never had this much fun before! We need to do this more often!” Wizpig pulls his head back, then releases thousands of tiny bee-like creatures from his mouth, all with heads like Wizpig.
“OH, COME ON! BEES? Seriously?” Bottles starts to run again, his hamstrings causing him severe pains as he limps desperately. He falls to the floor and sweat perspires from every orifice on his body. The bees start looming overhead, their buzzing sounds causing Bottles to hallucinate. He begins to see images as his eyes waver from side to side.
“Banjo… Is that you? Kazooie… Ugh, that’s not funny… Mumbo… Is there any more cake? I just want…” Bottles covers his eyes, lifting his glasses up over his face. He begins to peer through his hands and sees something glowing. He pauses for a second, then completely removes his hands. The bees now look like bits of code. “What…? What is this…?” Bottles gets to his feet and stairs at the bits of code, which appear clear and in focus without his glasses. “You’re not… real…?” Bottles whispers to himself as he scours his hand through the collection of bees, causing him no harm. He then thinks to himself, then scoffs lightly. “Of course this isn’t real… It’s a dream!” He looks over to Wizpig with his glasses on, then he raises them and there’s nothing but code in bright blue symbols that comprise Wizpig’s silhouette. He puts his glasses back down, then his eye browns begin to come down in the middle as he approaches Wizpig. “I don’t know what this is, but I know you’re not real…” Bottles looks around. “NONE of this is real!” Wizpig keeps breathing heavily, leering down at Bottles, saying nothing. Wizpig leans down and picks Bottles up by the back of his shirt. He then plucks Bottles, which sends him 20 feet away as he lands on his face.
“DID THAT FEEL REAL, BOTTLES? Ha haa haaa…” Wizpig laughs maniacally. Bottles lifts himself up and he straightens his shirt out. He turns back and walks to Wizpig.
“Alright… You might be able to hurt me… but that doesn’t change the fact that all of this is fake… So do you know what that means? That means that I…” Bottles starts to roll up an invisible ball of some sort. Suddenly, he launches a giant psychic blast which sends Wizpig flying to the other end of the stadium. “…can hurt YOU!” Bottles puts his hands to his hips and stands accomplished. Wizpig gets up and wipes his mouth.
“Very good, Bottles. It only took you a whole hour to figure out!” Wizpig stomps the floor, which causes a giant crack to open up between Bottles’ legs, causing the floor to open up and reveal lava underneath it. Bottles hops to one side of the gap and stands his ground.
“That… was WEAK.” says Bottles as he lifts off into the air. Wizpig follows suit and the two begin floating in the air and flying menacingly around one another. Bottles unleashes two light-blue laser beams straight out of his arms. Wizpig does the same, except his color of laser is red for obvious reasons. The two lasers connect and sparks start sprinkling down to the stadium below. Bottles and Wizpig struggle as each end gets shorter and longer in a duel of sheer will.
“You could have all the advantage in the world and you could never beat me, Bottles! Do you know why?” says Wizpig struggling.
“Because you’ll bore me to death with all your TALKING!?!?” Bottles pushes his laser all the way through to Wizpig’s arms, blasting Wizpig down to the stadium and into the pit of lava below. Bottles looks down from the sky, then a giant fireball shoots from out of the lava and smacks right into Bottles. As the fire dies down, Bottles sees Wizpig with his evil smile staring back at him, holding onto his shirt as they plummet towards the stadium.
“That’s right, Bottles! Keep on fighting! It’ll do you no good! You can’t beat me! Ha haa haaa!” The tumbling ball of fighters hit the ground with extreme force, causing a large crater. The two crawl out from the crater and start heaving large breaths.
“Bottles…” Wizpig starts to say as he’s bent over in exhaustion. “Do you even know what you’re fighting?” Bottles looks over.
“Yeah, I’m fighting a huge, bloated pig from outer space.” says Bottles sarcastically. Wizpig laughs.
“Haha… I thought not…” Wizpig gets back into fighter stance. “Shall we continue?” says Wizpig with a face that suggests he knows more than he’s letting on. Bottles raises one eyebrow and calmly says,
“Yes.”

Meanwhile...

“I’m hungry. Can we stop for some food for a little while?” asks Bozzeye opening the refrigerator.
“An EXORCIST is hunting us down inside this house and you’re worried about your stomach?” Granny Focal grabs Bozzeye by the arm and pulls him away. Bozzeye clings to a sandwich before it falls to the floor out of the refrigerator.
“Awww, come on! That’s just wasteful!” complains Bozzeye. Lenses follows Granny Focal as she drags Bozzeye out of the kitchen. They continue into the dining room. Granny Focal stops and hushes the others quiet. She looks up and listens.
“SHHH! Do you hear that?” whispers Granny Focal. The other moles listen up.
“Yeah, it’s my stomach.” says Bozzeye with his eyes half closed. Granny Focal hushes him and covers his mouth.
“It’s footsteps! The exorcist is in the next room. QUICK! We have to hide!” Granny Focal and the other moles scramble for hiding places. A few seconds later, the exorcist quietly enters the room, aiming his Ghoulsucker 3000 carefully around. A flashlight is attached to the end of it, which he shines slowly around the dining room over chairs and the large dining room table.
“Come on, Ghosty… I know you’re in here…” The exorcist slowly takes a chair out from the dining room table and shines the light underneath. The legs of the other chairs light up as he waves the flashlight over them. He bends down to look underneath the table itself to see if there’s anything clinging to the bottom of it, but there’s nothing there. He stands back up again and puts the chair back under the table. “Boy, you ghosts are good at hiding… but I know you’re in here. There’s no mistaking it… and I WILL find you.” He walks slowly to the next few chairs and turns around to see a full china display. He opens up the display and examines each level of it to find nothing. Exasperated, he quickens his pace, going to the armoire next to it. He opens up every drawer to find socks. Underwear. Magazines. Thousands of dollars in cash… but no ghosts. Finally, he makes his way to the other end of the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a figure. By reflex, he quickly turns around and points the flashlight at a nerdy-looking mole sleeping in a chair.
“Hah… So, an imposter, huh?” says the exorcist with a laugh. “Well, you’ve wasted enough of my time. Time to clean the rest of the house…” The exorcist walks out of the room and starts exploring the den. Granny Focal pops her head out from Bottles’ body and looks around to see if its clear.
“Alright, he’s gone! Let’s go the other way before we run into him again!” Granny Focal leads the other moles, carrying Bottles, back into the kitchen and through to the hallway from where they came. “There has to be a stairway in here…” She and the others tip-toe to the end of the hall, while in the next room they can hear the exorcist walking about. They peak out from the hallway into the room. On the other side of the room is the stairway that leads to the second floor. “Darn it…!” exclaims Granny Focal while still keeping her voice low. She turns to the other moles. “Okay…” she says with her eyes closed. Her heart is pounding. “When I tell you to, I want the both of you to carry Bottles to the other end of the room and carry him up the stairs, OK?”
“What? No. We’re not going on without you.” says Bozzeye.
“That’s sweet of you to say, Bozzeye, but it’s our only way!”
“That’s not what I meant. I don’t want to be stuck with Lenses if you die!” Granny Focal rolls her eyes and then turns her head to the room. She steps out and then jumps into a stack of books. The exorcist’s ears pick up the sound.
“Ahaaaa…!” says the exorcist making his way over to the books. As the exorcist slowly lifts up each book, a shadow is cast over him. The exorcist turns around and cowers in terror at the giant yellow ghost looming over head with big teeth and a rolling pin being spanked into its left hand. Granny Focal’s eyes are bulging out of her skull and her pupils are the size of peas. She looks over at the other moles while the exorcist is crawling on the floor in fear.
“NOW! GO!” says Granny Focal. The moles begin carrying Bottles and wobbling side to side as they make their way to the other end of the room. The exorcist sees this and then looks back up at Granny Focal.
“Wait a minute… It’s a TRICK!” says the exorcist as he grabs his Ghoulsucker 3000. Granny Focal shrinks back down and begins to follow her kin up the stairs. As Granny Focal makes it to the top and ensures that the others are on their way, she stops. The exorcist is climbing the stairs when he stops and points his gun at Granny Focal.
“That’s right, Ghost. Accept your fate! I promise you, this won’t hurt a bit!” says the exorcist as he looks into the scope of his gun and squeezes the trigger lightly.
“You’re right. It won’t!” says Granny Focal as she tilts a book sitting on a small table out of place from the line of books. The stairs slant and turn into a slide, which causes the exorcist to fall on his face and slide down the stairs. When he reaches the bottom, he lies passed out on the floor. Granny Focal pats her hands and then goes to catch up with the other moles.

Bottles gets into his fighter stance. He grazes his hand against his nose, then shoots out blue flames from his hands. Wizpig reacts by catching the flames in his hand, gathering all the power being sent his way.
“Bad idea.” Wizpig sends the whirling torrent of flames Bottles’ way, which Bottles shields himself from. “Now you’re just getting sloppy, Bottles.”
Bottles plants his feet on the floor, then he gathers up all his energy as if he’s pulling it up from the ground. As he’s doing this, he starts to grow larger until he’s as big as Wizpig.
“Thought it wise to even the playing field a bit?” asks Wizpig.
“Yes.” says Bottles with a smirk.
“Fine with me.” Says Wizpig with a sly smile. The two jump back from each other. Bottles starts to summon thousands of shiny golden Notes from the ground and flings them at Wizpig. Wizpig sends his mines at Bottles, which meet the Notes and both explode before ever reaching their destinations. “Oh come now, Bottles. Surely you have more imagination than that.”
“Shut up already!” Bottles jumps inside the ground and starts burrowing his way to Wizpig. He digs his way through and grabs at Wizpig’s legs. He comes up from below the ground and pulls Wizpig down underneath. The two bounce around underground and go from edge to edge of the arena. The ground starts to quake and rumble. Suddenly, the entire arena explodes into thousands of pieces, causing a mini Big Bang in the center of the universe. The two remain fighting in the remains, floating and being grasped by nothing but their own gravity to each other. Bottles leaps to a platform while Wizpig does the same.
“We could go at this for centuries, Bottles!” says Wizpig with a raspy voice from all the laughing.
“Well, judging by your laughter, one of us is bound to give up eventually!” Bottles is filled to the brim with confidence. The platform he’s floating on begins to sprout jets, transporting Bottles where ever he’s pointed. Wizpig does the same. “Here’s something you haven’t seen!” Bottles finds Wizpig in his sights, then takes his hand to his face and grabs Wizpig just by gesturing with his fingers. He swings Wizpig around and throws him against a floating platform, slamming him multiple times. Wizpig lays there, catching his breath.
“Very creative, Bottles… Ugh… You definitely have a flare for fighting…” Wizpig gets up and stands on the platform, then he begins to gather in energy. Wizpig starts to grow to exponential sizes, 30X bigger than Bottles. “Except what I have a flare for… is WINNING. Ha haa haaa.” Wizpig laughs in his guttural deep voice. Bottles’ eyes begin to widen as he sees the evil alien pig staring back at him. Bottles starts thinking to himself.
“It’s as if he keeps getting stronger, the more I fight him… What do I do? What do I do!?!? It’ll never end at this rate!” Bottles begins to panic in his mind. Suddenly, Wizpig shoots himself away a good distance. He begins to charge a titanic-sized spell that hovers over his head. Bottles braces himself as Wizpig juggles the spell in his hands. As the spell gets bigger and bigger, time seems to slow down for Bottles, as if his remaining time left was of great importance. As the spell reaches its maximum strength and brightness, a thought suddenly creeps into Bottles’ mind: “My best advice would be for you to just… take control.” Bottles stares into the bright light, then says “Take control…?” He looks slowly to his hand and notices that he’s been holding a remote control with a large, red button on it that says “GAME OVER.” Time speeds up rapidly as Wizpig releases his spell.
“FWOOOOOOM!!!” yells Wizpig. Bottles quickly presses the GAME OVER button and the spell explodes, producing the brightest light Bottles had ever seen, causing him to shut his eyes. Even though he can’t see, he feels wind rushing passed him as gravity pulls him in an unknown direction…

Meanwhile...

Granny Focal and the other moles finally make it to the attic of the seemingly abandoned house. They float up the staircase and small flashes of light begin to emit from the farthest end of the room. They slowly approach some packed boxes and peer out from them. Sounds of electricity are heard and flashing blue light is seen coming from an old, whiley-looking, white-haired man sitting at a metal desk. He sits on an odd contraption that seems to hold him up. Beside him are what look to be gurneys with unrecognizable bodies on them, though one of them is blue and another is green. Suddenly, the man starts talking softly.
“For years, I’ve waited to get my revenge… Thanks to Gruntilda, I’m able to continue my research and experiments. All it cost to me was to build a small army…”
The moles whisper “…an army?”
“Good thing for me, I’m also able to experiment on them in ways that I wasn’t able to before… without the help from Gruntilda’s minions…” The man turns his attention to the gurneys. The lower half of his body seems to be attached to robotic legs. He speaks with a German accent, like a twisted version of Einstein. He turns the lights on located above them and the bodies light up.
“It’s a Gruntling!” says Lenses. Granny Focal and Bozzeye cover his mouth. The man looks towards the moles’ direction, but then goes back to studying the bodies.
“These… Gruntlings? I believe they’re called… They make for interesting subjects… Their life force is seemingly hinged on magic alone… And this Jinjo over here…”
Granny Focal and the other moles quietly whisper “a Jinjo…?”
“Why, their anatomy is quite normal… for Jinjos, that is… Now we shall see what can be produced if we…” the old man walks mechanically to another gurney behind them. “…put their genetic make-up into a robotic body.” The body on the gurney looks like a patchwork job of a Jinjo and a Gruntling’s body sewn together. The man presses a button, which then activates tubes that draw liquid from the two bodies lying close by. The liquid gets sucked into the amalgamated body and its limbs start to move as the liquid courses through its body. The moles watch in awe as the man makes his way to a large lever located on the wall nearby. He pulls it and a hatch in the ceiling opens up.
“Now, for the first time in the history of Science, I will bring life to the GRINJO! AHAHAHAHAHA!” The old man pulls the second lever which causes a rod underneath the gurney to push the Grinjo towards the hatch in the ceiling. Lightning and thunder are heard and rain smacks against the windows. As the moles watch in awe, Granny Focal hears something. She turns her ear to the stairway and listens.
“That exorcist! He must have woken up!” says Granny Focal whispering to the other moles. They pick up Bottles and peer out from the boxes and furniture. The footsteps get louder. The moles, out of choices, walk in on the old man.
“What are you doing here!?! No visitors allowed! Get out! Now, I say!” the old man shouts as he shoes the moles away with his hands. The moles ignore him, however, and proceed toward the gurneys. Granny Focal looks around and sees a happy, red cauldron with googly eyes in the corner of the room jumping up and down. Granny Focal’s eyes widen as she waves the other moles to carry Bottles over. Suddenly, she trips and falls to the wooden floor, being sucked in the opposite direction of the cauldron.
“THOUGHT YOU COULD GET AWAY FROM ME, EH? WELL, THEY DON’T PAY ME $7.50 AN HOUR FOR CATCHING AIR, GHOSTY!” The exorcist stands with his legs bent as he sucks the mole spirits hanging on to the floor boards. He takes off his gas mask and reveals himself. Granny Focal looks back at him as she claws at the floor boards. The man is apparently a rat with an eye patch and a whiny sounding voice. Bottles lies limp on the floor, snoring.
“Who is that!?” yells Bozzeye scratching his head.
“Looks like… Pawno!” says Granny Focal.
“Who?” yells Bozzeye.
“PAWNO!” yells Granny Focal and Lenses at the same time, still hanging on for dear life.
“Who the heck is Pawno?” asks Bozzeye with a confused look.
“He was in the other game! Just… forget it!” yells Lenses and waving the discussion away. Pawno increases power to his suction and begins laughing annoyingly. Granny Focal tries clawing to the cauldron, but even her cheeks are flapping around her face. Meanwhile, the Scientist is egging Pawno on.
“YES! Get rid of those pesky ghosts! They interrupted my experiment, which was going lovely until they showed up!” The old man hops up and down in a fury pulling his hair out of his skull. As all of this is happening, the rod holding up the gurney being lifted out of the roof starts to wobble. The winds outside begin to pick up. The old man notices this and runs over to his levers. He pulls one and the gurney starts to slowly come down. Suddenly, the gurney gets struck by lightning. The electricity travels down the rod and into the circuitry of the machines nearby, causing things to malfunction.
“NOOOOO!!!” yells the old scientist, trying to recover things. The gurney starts to plummet down as the rod lifting it gives way to gravity. The Grinjo body bounces from the gurney into a giant machine that reads “EXPERIMENTAL CLONING MACHINE: KEEP OUT!” The machine activates itself. Steam rises from it and lights begin to flash. An error message flashes. “UNKOWN GENUS. CLONING 100. STAND BY.”
“No, no, NO! Stop! Stop right this instant! This is your master SPEA-KING!” the scientist stomps his robot legs and pulls out his hair as his machines fail to listen to him. Pawno, meanwhile, continues to suck. Lenses has been sucked up. Bozzeye is gone. All that remains is Granny Focal, fingernails worn down to the nub. Pawno leans in while his gun does all the work.
“You might as well give up! There’s no shame in taking your medicine!” says Pawno, sucking as hard as he’s ever sucked before. Suddenly, a rolling pin is seen behind him. It comes crashing down on Pawno’s head and Pawno falls to the floor, his gun sliding away from him. Granny Focal looks up at a light-blue mole spirit with sunglasses on. Sparks fly in the background, highlighting the glowing figure.
“Here, I found this downstairs. You might need it.” Shades gives Granny Focal the rolling pin and helps her up.
“Shades… I thought you left for good…” Granny Focal puts her arms around Shades and Shades hesitantly hugs back while lights are flashing all around.
“I thought I did too… Mom…”
As the old scientist is crouched down on the floor, his head between his hands and kneeling to the destruction of his lab, Grinjos pop out of the cloning machine one by one. Soon there are 30 Grinjos in the room walking about like crazy, mutated freaks. Granny Focal looks around and then grabs the gun while Pawno lays limp on the floor. She and Shades lift up Bottles and carry him to the warp cauldron. They look back one last time and hop inside together. Then, after the cauldron does his warp dance, they’re gone…