Part 28: Episode 27: Democratan Idol

Okay, so a certain cutscene was a little bit earlier than I remembered it being. So this update will not be item collection AND we'll get a healthy dose of plot at the very end. Also, videos will be hosted on Dailymotion as well as Google Video because DM allows higher res. It really looks nicer.

Episode 27: Democratan Idol


We were back in the outer ring of Democratus. As annoying as the planet as a whole could be, it's individual residents were far, far worse.


Ok, maybe I was wrong about them. These guys can be pretty cool.


A pair of them were hotly discussing something in the back of the room, probably talking about how awesome I am.
One said to me, "Ambassador! What a pleasure to see you. I'm Bornuff with the Planets Abroad: Full Disclosure lobby. It is our belief that the information pertaining to the imminent destruction of our universe - which currently is only known to the population of the Votowne Ring, and the six ambassadors - should become a matter of public record. Doctor Bowman should draft up an explanation and send it to all the major news feeds, including this SenderNet. I'm sure a message from the well-respected Rho Bowman would be well-received."
"Full Disclosure, Ambassador. We need the help. It's irresponsible to keep such important knowledge a secret."
I guess Democratus missed the part where Rho was sent to the Rainbow Shelter because she was denounced as a heretic scientist. I'm sure a scientist known for crackpot theories would be taken completely seriously ranting about the end of the universe brought about by godlike forces from the next. Anyway, enough talk. Let's get back to praising me.


ME not YOU. I guess the "protective bubbles" explained how we weren't killed instantaneously by the planet's expansion.




That's what I'm talking about. Lay it on thick, Councilmen.


True, but the rest of the universe isn't that bad.


I walked in on what was sure to be another riveting conversation with three of the councilmen. Councilman Lasky, the one on the left, had a slightly nervous expression on his face. "I hope your stay in Politicus didn't mar your opinion of our fair planet," he said, "The planet dwellers are simple people. Don't believe anything they told you about us."
Yeah, we'll just forget about how all three of us heard reports of the vast incompetence of the ring dwellers. They were probably too busy watching us kick all kinds of ass to keep up with the day to day running of the planet's needs. I'll admit, I'm pretty hard to take your eyes off of, so I couldn't really blame them.
Councilman Willis Interjected. "We should have implanted you with tracking chips for just such a contingency. With your consent of course. Maybe you could use this…."
He sifted through his pockets. Eventually his hands emerged with an obviously worn out Old Ducalion Shieldcell. This might have been handy back when we were wandering the streets of Anachronox, but our current gear was at least ten times better.


Call it detective's intuition, clairvoyance, or whatever you'd like, but I arbitrarily decided to check out the hanger where we found the fighter to infiltrate the hive.


This little dude, a cobalt crawler, was chilling out on the bench. He definitely wasn't here the first time we came through, not that we could have done anything with him anyway.


Not fully satisfied, I went a bit deeper into the hangar bay and found a chest, which also wasn't here before.


Me-ow. Sera was none too pleased to have been offered two skimpy outfits from two different men in the same day.


Outside the Council's chamber, Sergeant Guff was still standing duty. This was the man that made us delve into Democratan politics instead of just letting us in to see the council.
"I can't believe it! Ambassador Boots in the flesh! You must be here for the Festival of Choice. I'm really proud of you guys. It seems like only yesterday that you came wandering by from the hangar bays. How far we've come , huh? You're good people. Just people. Here's a token of my appreciation."
He gave us a TACO. Not just any TACO. The last TACO.


The Democratans were tuning up our shuttle, so we had to kill a few hours on the streets of Votowne.


Apparently we were just in time for the "Festival of Choice." Then they would respect my decision to not go.


I talked to the man next to the poster. Last time we were on Democratus, he gave us a hard time over voting pins or something.
He said, "We have to block off this viewing screen when the planet is miniaturized. Too many people were crowding around it to watch the adventure. There's a fake holographic sky projected along the inside of the atmosphere so as not to break the feeble minds of the surface-dwellers below. What do you think they would do if they looked up and saw you taking up the entire sky? You know, you ought to be more careful. You almost elbowed us into oblivion the other day."
Consider yourself lucky.


While walking through one of the dark back alleys of Votowne, we found a pile of papers on the ground.


Nuke.


Walking around Votowne this time around was actually kind of cool. I had never been a celebrity before. Don't get me wrong, I was pretty popular back around Rowdy's, but it was nothing like this. I couldn't walk ten steps without one of the baldies begging for a chat.
"You're the fella on the entertainment program. The one with all the nifty effects. Man, what a production you put on. Every day. I don't know how y'all do it," one of them said to me.
"My wife's not gonna believe me that I met you. She dresses up every day to watch the program," the other said.
"I really thought you defeated Rictus. Man, you were robbed."


Apparently PAL was a fan favorite in the ring. Luckily he was too afraid to come or he might be stealing my thunder right now.


Everywhere we went, we were the talk of the town. We just wanted to get to the Republic Inn to rest a bit. Two more fans jumped us.
"That publicity stunt with the planet expanding right at the last second, with you guys getting lost on the surface, was great."
"Lots of people thought that it was a real newscast."
And it's supposedly the surface dwellers who are the idiots, right?


Of course, the local press wanted a piece of us, too.
The reporter approached and said, "I'm Churran Srruare of THE REAL VOTE Maganize. We'll pay you 500 loonies for the exclusive story of what happened to you in the town of Politicus. You would also have to pose for photos without your trenchcoat. Or to be more accurate, without any clothing whatsoever. The people demand to see you exposed… in every facet of the word. Why so bashful?"
The Man-Dance was as far as I cared to go, and all evidence of that had been destroyed.


Except for that little brat in Whitendon…Politicus…whatever.


More papers left on the street. Could they be other parts of the plan?


It.


The lonely man on the bench whined, "I can't find a date for tonight's fireworks show. If you don't vote the same way women do, you can forget about companion ship."
Or maybe you should stop being such a creepy dude. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I'm convinced that this is the same creepy guy from last time.

We took a walk through JeJune Juices to see if they had finally started serving alcohol. No luck. We got some more of the usual commentary from the other patrons. One asked for an autograph, another complained that he didn't follow the part with Chaos and Order. My favorite comment was "This show needs better writers if I'm gonna keep tuning in."


Back on the street we met more of my adoring fans!
"Your character is really funny on the show."
Hey maybe he was mildly retarded and thought this whole ordeal was a tv show, but a compliment's a compliment.
"Thanks-"
Before I could get the rest out he interrupted and said, "You're such a jerk, and kinda dumb, but you don't even know it."


Punching out viewers would hurt ratings, so I left quickly and found some more papers on the ground.


From.


Another fan asked, "Will they ever explain what happened between you, the holographic secretary, and Stiletto? That's my favorite plot line."
Unless they could develop some kind of machine to read minds, there was no way they were going to go digging into that part of my past.


Backhanded compliments were becoming a recurring theme here.
"I really admire your technique on the show. I'm playing a member of the High Council in a stage play celebrating the Festival of Choice. I know acting is a challenge. I can tell you must have studied the Pidesta Method of buffoonery to craft such a stylized performance."

I was pretty much sick of Democratus at that point and made a beeline toward the Republic Inn. We'd all take a nap, wake up, and get off this rock.


We were sidetracked by more papers on the ground.


Orbit.

Once we got Engineer Recator to install this on the planet, we could finally be sure.


Inside the Republic Inn, we went to the front desk to check in.
"At last the stars have arrived," the receptionist said. "Our illustrious hotel has lodged dignitaries across the social spectrum, but never anyone with quite your notoriety. We are honored to have you as our guests. Tonights accommodations are, of course, complimentary. Would you like to check in now or later?"
"Now."
"Excellent. Have a very pleasant evening. I'll see to it that you are not disturbed."

When we got to our room, Fatima quickly floated to a shelf and shut down. Ever since Sera showed up, she's been like that. It didn't take a world class detective to know what she was thinking about.

Undoubtably, she was thinking about That Night / Google Video version / Backup.