Part 15: Update XIII - Shut Up, You're A Blue Chicken.

Update XIII - Shut Up, You're A Blue Chicken.



So, last time, we found out that Zizek created and apparently entered a fucking stargate. Now, we're following him.



♪ BGM: The Gritty Reboot ♫



Man, you guys both look weird.
So do you, Bobson. Whatever has happened, it has happened to all of us.
My arms and legs are so long... And, oh my god! Twitter, you are a chicken!
I'm a #chicken! We have to get back #home, you guys. This is all wrong. I am never going to get #trending if I'm a lowly chicken.
Looks like the stargate is shut down on this end. Just like in the movie we're going to have to find a way back over here.
I knew this was a bad idea! Less than twelve hours from the start of game seven and we're stuck in this place. And on top of that, we've been turned into proportional monstrosities.
Proportional monstrosities and a #chicken!
I'll be honest, @twitter, you are actually more normal now then before.
Who wants to be #normal? Most things are #normal. That makes it a terrible #brand.
I guess we should have a look around if we hope to ever make it back to your world.



Alright, so we have gotten significantly more realistic. Let's see if we can find Zizek around here.



Baseball scorecards?
This is every game that I appeared in this year. What is going on?

Mysterious.



What have I told you, Bobson? There's always time for books.
What about getting back in time for game seven?
Okay, maybe we don't have time for books.



Just this place? We look completely different!
We're all tall and...meaty.
At least you're not a chicken! #CluckThis
CHICKENS ARE THE FUCKING WORST, THEY ARE JUST LARGE FAT RODENTS COVERED IN SHITTY FEATHERS. THEY CAN'T EVEN FUCKING FLY. #BIRDSTHATCANTFLY
Sadly, I seem to still have a #troll problem in this world, as well.
We need to find Zizek and figure out what is going on.



RAAARGH!
Is that a ZOMBIE?
Woah, don't use that word!
What? "Zombie"? I think that's clearly the most descriptive term for the creature in front of us.
RAAARGH!
You never call a zombie a "zombie." That's just wrong. You have to call them something else like a "walker" or "infected."
That's just stupid.
It's not stupid. It's just the way it is.
C'mon, Bobson, what have I told you about accepting social rules just because they are generally accepted?
You told me to think for myself.
Exactly! So call the zombies what they are. Zombies.
RAAARGH!
Both of you need to stop arguing. This thing is coming for us!
It is moving very slowly. I don't think it is actually much #danger.
I think this thing is supposed to be frightening, but we can probably just avoid it by not getting too close.

Yeah, not getting too close seems like a good idea.

...let's get too close to it!



Oh no, I think we're going to have to fight it!

We get a choice of who to fight the zombie with. Let's pick Kami here.



♪ BGM: Kaminari ♫

Let's give this zombie some Win Hexpectancy.

Blessed Baseba'al, I am but a spoke in the great wheel, but I call upon your power to determine whether I will win this fight. Okay, creepy dead person... The numbers are in my favor.

No outs, top of the second inning. The leadoff man reached first base and your CF is about to bat. He's been struggling lately, and if he can move the runner over then you will have someone in scoring position for the first time.

We can either let him swing or bunt. And I think we've established that you don't bunt. No allowed.

Correct! Just because a batter is in a cold streak does not mean they have stopped performing to their career expectation. This early in the game, there's never a good reason to force a run into scoring position.

We then do some Win Hexpectancy again.

No outs, top of the third inning. The leadoff man reached first base and your SS is about to bat. He's not much of a hitter and if he can move the runner over then you will have someone in scoring position for the first time.

Again, let him swing or bunt. Again, the bunt is wrong.

Correct! Because, as I keep saying, you should not bunt with a position player. This early in the game, there's never a good reason to force a run into scoring position.

And that wins us the battle. For those of you that want to do some math, here are the Replacement Prayer calculations:

x + 9 = 18 + -2x, solve for X. The solution is __3_.
4x + 6 = -10, solve for X. The solution is _-4_.



♪ BGM: The Gritty Reboot ♫

What did I tell you about--
BLAAAARGH!
This one looks identical to the one downstairs. #SeparatedAtBirth
BLAAAARGH!
Doesn't seem any faster than the other one, so we can probably avoid it too.
What the hell is going on here?
Zombies are supposed to be scary but these are just kind of pathetic.
Do you think this is like what happened to Sonic the Hedgehog back in the bookstore?
Even after everything we've been through tonight, I still have trouble taking that question seriously.



We go and fight this one too, this time with @twitter. It's exactly the same as the previous time we had that shmup segment.



What are WE doing here? What are YOU doing here? What are any of us doing here?
For the first time since I have met you, Bobson, you are finally asking the right questions. But I fear that your elucidation comes too late, in fits and pieces that have fallen from any already broken sky.
Okay, you already lost me.
I don't think that Bobson is trying to be philosophical, Zizek. He literally wants to know what we are doing HERE. In this strange place. And for once he's right to be confused. What is this strange place you brought us to?
This isn't another visual novel, is it? Because I'm tired of reading.
First of all, I did not bring you here. I believe that you all stepped through the same stargate that I did. You were not compelled to follow me by anything but your own death drive.
We came here to help you! And from the look of it, you need all the help you can get.
Seriously. What the fuck did you do here, Zizek?
Over the last night, I have used my powers of applied ontology to commit great crimes against nature. Before now, I believed that a crime against nature was a precious thing to be fostered, as nature has truly inflicted crimes upon us all. But after bringing @twitter into this world I began to question my purpose and my direction, to the extent that my directionlessness had a purpose.
This is not the first #CrisisOfIdentity caused by @twitter, but it is the first one that has turned @twitter into a #chicken.
I figured that much out already, when we discovered that you brought Sonic the Hedgehog into the real world.
Truly the act of a desperate man.
But you still haven't answered my question? What was that stargate, and why did it take us here? Where are we?
I thought, perhaps, I could strip the power from my applied ontology by travelling to a more realistic, grounded world. Let's face it, over the last few hours our world has become rather silly.
So you made a portal into another world that would be less ridiculous?
No, I made a stargate into a world that is less ridiculous. Unfortunately, it appears that something has gone wrong.
You're telling us! There are zombies here!
Tsk, tsk. You should not call them "zombies" but instead conform to the genre and refer to them as something else, such as "walkers" or "infected."
BOOM! Fucking told you.
It seems that instead of finding a more realistic world, I have instead found a world that is perceived to be more realistic, though just as silly.
I don't understand.
The stargate didn't lead to a grounded world; it led to a gritty reboot.
Oh god...
Wait, are you trying to tell me that we're in some kind of shoe?
Not a gritty boot. A gritty reboot.
Quite simply, this is our world if it were re-imagined to be a dark, forboding reality full of monsters, grime, and death.
I should have seen it as soon as we arrived.
Wait, what does this all mean?
Well, the color palette is now washed out. We look, ostensibly, more like propotional human beings but we probably have tragic backstories.
I escaped from a factory farm but the rest of my family was turned into chicken noodle soup. #AnimalRights #VoteVegan
This explains the zombies, and other things we might see like somber music, needless fucking cursing, drug use, a late title card...
What's a "late title card"?



♪ BGM: Closer's Title ♫



♪ BGM: The Gritty Reboot ♫

Ever since I went off the PEZ, I've had the shakes.
Oh no, it's already beginning!
This is kind of embarassing.
I guess that Bobson isn't particuarly good at having gritty, realistic problems.
This is a real problem, man. When I close my eyes, I can still taste the sweet, sweet sugar.
So, what the hell do we do? How do we get out of here?
I do not know that this is even a place from which we can escape.
I don't know about that, there is a stargate in the basement after all. That's gotta take us home, right?
Once again, my situation unfortunately mirrors the plot of the film Stargate.
Once again?
It happens more often than you would think. Today our problem is that we do not have the coordinates to return to our home reality.
Then the solution is probably just like Stargate, too! We need to find the coordinates here, in this world.
There is only one problem with this: Stargate was a Roland Emmerich film. Roland Emmerich films are of a certain character: they celebrate perseverance and success in the face of disaster and so on, and so on. The dark, gritty world I have brought us to--nay, perhaps created--is no Roland Emmerich world. Is there any point in a search for a Roland Emmerich solution in a Frank Miller world?
Are you saying we're trapped here? In these weird bodies?
We are not giving up! I refuse to live in anything but a Roland Emmerich world!
Also we need to get back to the real world to play game seven of the World Series.
Yes! That too!
Do whatever you have to do. If you find the way back, perhaps I will return with you. Or perhaps I will decide this is where I belong.

Alright, we have our goal. And I don't think we have anything here, so let's head out.



What? Fuck this.

Seriously, there are *two* abandoned asylums?
That sure is #dark and #gritty.

Well, we need to make a decision regardless, so let's head to the abandoned asylum.



Huh?



OH SHIT.



FUCK.



I think that was a quick time event.
A... What?
It's a contrived kind of gameplay in video games. You have to press the right sequence of buttons before time runs out.
Wow, that's some lazy design.
Looks like we're going to have to get past if we're going to advance... and get you back in time for game seven.
Don't worry, Moose. You always said that I was good at pushing your buttons.

Having your own created game characters shit on your game is some next level meta shit.



Anyway, we make it past the QTE without incident the second time around and arrive at The Abandoned Asylum.



Not a lot to be seen on the lower floor except this thing.

It looks like someplace where you might perform a #ritual of some sort.
I don't know, but it's pretty forboding.
Everything in this world is #forboding, in a way that I have not experienced since the last time #RuinADateIn5Words was #trending.
This one is called The Altar of Mature Themes.
Great, this isn't going to be awkward and uncomfortable at all.
I think we should use it and find out what happens.
Why would we want to use something so ominously named?
Normally I'd agree with Kami but we need to find the coordinates to get home and these altars appear to be the only thing we can interact with.

Alright, let's use the altar.

Oh boy...
What do you think this is going to do?
Whatever it is, it won't be good.



I didn't realize how wrong I could be.
Wait, are we about to get a flashback to just...a couple hours ago?
I guess unnecessary non-linear storytelling is part of a gritty reboot as well.
Shut up, guys! I want to see how mature themes have become part of my life.
Never thought we'd have a reason to use the word "mature" to describe you but here we are in an alternate universe so I guess I can't be too surprised.



♪ BGM: Closer's Theme ♫

Who were you even shouting at here?
I don't remember. I guess it was a really dark time.
I'll do anything for another fix! What can I sell? What can I steal? WHO DO I HAVE TO KILL?
Yeah I definitely don't remember it being this bad. I think I got a little shaky but that was it.
And that was probably just from the sugar.
No! I have to stop! I can't let this addiction destroy me!



Oh, I'm not just any PEZ dispenser, Bobson. I'm a limited edition PEZ Pez Presidents Calvin Coolidge.

That can't exist. That cannot fucking exist.

...

...it exists. I can go to PEZ.com and buy a set of William Taft, Calvin Coolidge, Woodrow Wilson, Herbert Hoover and Warren G Harding for $10.88. It's on sale! What the fuck.

Yeah, I definitely don't remember this happening.
Be #quiet! I want to see what's going to happen.
No! Get away from me!
Ol' Cal might have been silent, but your addiction sure is awfully loud. Too loud to ignore.
I will beat this addiction! This dragon just isn't worth chasing anymore.
Remember how good it feels, Bobson. Think back to your first hit, the sweet taste of candy overwhelming your senses. Don't you just want to tilt back my head and pull out a tangy pill-shaped treat from just below the lapels of my suit jacket?
I'm strong now, Calvin Coolidge PEZ Dispenser. You don't hold any power over me.



You will break like the Boston police.

Wow. I wonder how many people will get that.



♪ BGM: Transcend ♫

Yes, you aren't hallucinating. Bobson is now having a pitching battle against a fucking Limited Edition PEZ Presidents Calvin Coolidge PEZ dispenser. I feel like there must come a point where we've reached the peak of bizarre sentences that simply factually describe what is happening in this game, but I don't think we've even remotely reached it. Well, let's play this out.

Bobson throws a fastball!

Ball 1! The pitch was just off the outside corner and the batter takes it for a ball!

Hrm. Let's try and take him by surprise with an early curve.

Bobson throws a curveball!

Oh no, it's a hanging curveball! The ball just slipped out of Bobson's hand as he delivered it to the plate.

Shit!

This is the sort of pitch a batter can really hammer if you're unlucky... Of course, if you're lucky, it's an easy strike.



What? You're asking me stuff in the middle of a battle? Fuck that!



Yes, even now!

Ball 2!

WHAT.

The umpire calls for a balk, due to your foul language. What, are you going to argue? Do *you* understand the balk rule?

...motherfucker.


Anyway, back to the fight. We're in a real hole now, down 2-0, so let's try some more heat.

Bobson throws a fastball!

Ball 3! The pitch was just off the outside corner and the batter takes it for a ball!

Shit. Let's try it again.

Bobson throws a fastball!

Strike 1! The batter swung right through the heat!

OK, good, let's do it again?

Bobson throws a fastball!

Ball 4! The pitch was just off the outside corner and the batter takes it for a ball! Bobson issued the walk.

FUCK.





Alright, let's try again. Fuckin' PEZ dispensers and their good eyes. Let's start with a curveball, fuck it.

Bobson throws a curveball!

Oh no, it's a hanging curveball! The ball just slipped out of Bobson's hand as he delivered it to the plate.

Shit!

This is the sort of pitch a batter can really hammer if you're unlucky... Of course, if you're lucky, it's an easy strike.



OK, after the last one, I guess I don't feel lucky?

Then let's pretend that pitch never happened.

...huh. The game just gave me a straight up mulligan. Nice. So let's repay that by throwing another curveball.

Bobson throws a curveball!

Ball 1! The curveball is just a little outside, and the batter holds back his swing.

Come on, man. Let's try it again. We have to be able to throw it for a strike, or get a swing and miss, right?

Bobson throws a curveball!

Oh no, it's a hanging curveball! The ball just slipped out of Bobson's hand as he delivered it to the plate. This is the sort of pitch a batter can really hammer if you're unlucky... Of course, if you're lucky, it's an easy strike.



Fuckin' hell. Alright, I guess I do feel lucky!



Holy shit. I get to play Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine the outcome of this pitch. Uhh... scissors!

The batter also picks scissors! The batter fouls off the pitch as it runs in on his hands! Strike 1!

So, that's the middle outcome. If you win, it's a regular strike, and if you lose, it's a home run. OK, let's try and make something out of this 1-1 count.

Bobson throws a fastball!

Ball 2! The pitch was just off the outside corner and the batter takes it for a ball! The hitter is now looking for a fastball!

Man, this ump is here to fuck us. Thankfully, we finally have the hitter looking for something, so we can beat him there.

Bobson throws a changeup!

Strike 2! The batter got out in front of that pitch and just missed the change-up.

Now, let's finish him off with the curve.

Bobson throws a curveball!

Strike 3! With two strikes, the curveball is in the dirt and the batter chases it out of the zone! Bobson struck him out!



♪ BGM: Closer's Theme ♫



Ugh, I'm cringing.
What, the line wasn't that bad, was it?
It was pretty bad.



♪ BGM: The Gritty Reboot ♫

Ah, so I guess that was worth it.
All kind of embarassing, though...
None of that really happened! Well, not exactly like that at least...

Alright, so we have our goal. Seems like we have to find three more of these altars to get all the coordinates.



The second one is on the second floor.

This one is called The Altar of Nihilism.
I'm already feeling fantastic about this.
At least you have the right attitude already, I guess.
Well, despite what happened last time, we know we need to use these altars to get back home.

Let's give it a shot.



Wait, what is this?
I think it's a flashback or internal monologue.
Why the fuck do I have to be the one who gets nihilism?



♪ BGM: Their Own League ♫

This... This nothingness will never end.



Who are you?
I'm you but I've been through a gritty reboot. Not a reboot of the "League Of Their Own" eroge, but... Okay, it's probably too difficult to explain. Suffice it to say, you're going to get out of this awful game.
Yeah, but it sounds like I get stuck in something even more terrible by the looks of you.
I'm pretty sure that I knew by now that it was improper to police the appearance of women... Especially if the woman happens to be yourself, just a few hours later.
Forget looks, isn't it uncomfortable to be so...proportionate?
I got used to it pretty fast.
That's because constant despair eventually becomes comfortable. We learn to tell ourselves that we are ignoring it rather than facing it. Soon we become unable to live without despair, so we seek it out even though it only leads to misery.
Huh. Well, have fun with that.
Wait! Aren't you going to try to convince me that I'm wrong? Or fight me to slay your own inner demons?
Why would I do that? Listen, I just have to endure this flashback or whatever it is. I don't have to do anything with it.
So you'll just leave me here like this, mired in despair?
No, because you're not real.





♪ BGM: The Gritty Reboot ♫

Well, that was meaningless.
Isn't that the #point of nihilism?
Shut up, you're a blue chicken.

So, that'll do it for The Abandoned Asylum. Next, we'll make our way to The Other Abandoned Asylum.



So one QTE later, we're here.



Nope, the laziest visual storytelling ever is still Lady in the Water.
Ugh, I was trying to forget that exists.

Anyway, I see an altar.



This one is called The Altar of Tragic Backstories.
Oh that sounds like a lot of fun. Well, despite what happened last time, we know that we need to use these altars to get back home.

Let's go!

Well great, I wonder which one of us is going to have a tragic backstory.
I don't think it's me, all my tragedy is pure frontstory.
That isn't a word.
Listen, I'm pretty sure that "pure" is a word.
Watch out! Here comes the #flashback!



What? No. No, it can't be. Not this. Anything but this.
I was one out away from a perfect game... And then he stepped to the plate.



♪ BGM: Moose ♫

No, I can't believe I'm going to have to relive this...
DINOSAURS AREN'T REAL!
This, this is the guy who is gonna do me in. The fossil record is right there, asshole!
Just one more out. I can do this.
No, Moose. No you can't.



And indeed, he can't.

Damn it! So close!
It was just a single and I retired the next batter... I didn't collapse like a lot of pitchers after losing the perfect game. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that Carlos Rodriguez, the Machine, was right. That moment symbolized my career. Never had a perfect game, never won a Cy Young, and never got a World Series ring. Less than two months later, an eerily similar hit would take a championship away from me. I should have been used to it. Now the same thing had happened again, one strike away... And one of my own pitchers gave up the crushing blow. Could... Could it be me? Something about me?



Oh, c'mon! That never even happened!



♪ BGM: The Gritty Reboot ♫

So, what happened in there?
Uh, well... Nothing. Nothing happened.
Are you lying to us?
No. Of course not. It was weird. I thought I was going to get some ham-fisted tragic backstory but I guess that was just a mistake. Everything just went black for a moment and now we're back here with another piece of the coordinates we need to go back home.
I think he's #lying.
Maybe he flashback was personal and that's why he's not sharing with us. We should respect that.
But Zizek is always saying that the personal is political.
That has literally no bearing on the discussion that we are having.
Fine, we'll just ignore that there might be something political going on.
You... Never mind. Let's just work on getting out of here.

Three out of four down, only one left.



The last one is in the basement of The Other Abandoned Asylum.

This one is called The Altar of Needless Cursing.
Oh, fuck. Well, despite what happened last time, we know we need to use these altars to get back home.

Alright, let's use this one too.

This reminds me of the time I tried to ban the #word "fuck" in #hashtags.
You tried to ban "fuck"?
Yeah, it didn't go #well.
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK #FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
That is basically what the #trolls did in response.
Seriously, what were you even thinking taking on such a monumental task?
I just wanted to make the #world #wide #web a more friendly place for #teens.
Was that because you wanted to monetize them?
Yes, I admit it. I wanted to #monetize the #teens.
Well, what happened when you tried to ban "fuck"?
I think the altar is about to show us...



And so we get to play another Twitter shmup until we eventually fail and are buried under #fuck.



Oh, #excellent! I knew that going back into those dark days would be worthwhile.
Did you ever manage to ban a word, @twitter?
Only #one, only the "yurch". But everyone got behind @twitter on that one.
Wait, what's "yurch" mean?
Jesus Christ, Bobson, you can't say that word! You especially shouldn't be using it!
But I don't even know what it is?
I don't think any of us owes you a definition.
Are... Are you all just messing with me right now?



Looks like we have all four pieces of the coordinates we need to get back to our world.
We should go back to Zizek and drag him back to non-reboot earth.

Well, let's do it.



This is the ideal state of man, so I presume you have been successful or have admitted that success is a social construct.
We found all the pieces of the coordinates to return home, but in the process we had to relive awful moments from our past.
My moment wasn't too #awful, I just shot lasers at the word "FUCK".
Ah, but why would you want to destroy the word "fuck", when it is the only English word that makes the language worth mumbling through?
That reminds me... Hey, Zizek, you'll be level with me: Is "yurch" an offensive word?
Woah, Bobson, what did I tell you?
Taking offense at a word doesn't destroy the harmful intent behind it. Smothering a hateful word with the down pillows of shame does not kill it, but seeds the dead feathers with hate, resurrecting them as a loathsome goose. We must not focus on the words, but upon exterminating the geese and so on, and so on. That said... You, Bobson must absolutely never use that word.
And I guess you aren't going to tell me what it means?
Have you learned nothing? Words have no meaning!
I... Whatever, it's not important.
We need to get you back to the real world before game seven starts!
Will you come back with us, Zizek?
You've seen that a more "realistic" world is just as fucked up as ours. But as far as I can tell, this one doesn't need philosophers.
No world needs philosophers, but the world requires philosphers. If you do not know the difference then you are an idiot. That said, I will return. But not because I have learned anything.
Well, that's good enough for me.
I will meet you at the portal. First I must inform all these zombies that they are actually the most free of us all.

Let's head back then.



You assemble the coordinates and place them in the stargate.



There is one thing that you should know: We won't be able to prevent the Stargate from re-opening on the other side.
What do you mean?
We have put the coordinates for our world into the device. Unless we remove them, the forces from this world will be able to follow us to ours.
Wait, are you saying that those infected could go with us back to the real world?
You mean the zombies?
Damn it, Kami! What do I keep saying?
Not just the infected, which would be trouble enough. But this world is inhabited and controlled by a malevolent force that is determined to force its adherence to a dark, gritty aesthetic.
Is that the force that made us live through badly misinterpreted flashbacks to get the coordinates home?
If this force is allowed to pass through the stargate, those flashbacks may no longer be badly-misinterpreted. It may actually re-write history so that our world will fall in line with its abhorrent philosophy.
Aw man, I'll never be able to go on a date and make eye contact if I have to live with the real memory of fighting a giant presidential PEZ dispenser.
So, what do we do?
The truth is that one of us must remain behind to remove the coordinates from the stargate and close it behind us.
But whoever stays behind will be stuck here forever!
Yes, and that is why I should be the one to remain. This is my fault, at least to the extent that I am capable of free will, which is not at all.
But what will you do here?
Perhaps I will teach the zombies of their own existence, then teach them why that is not important, and then teach them how to embrace their irrelevance.



Of course, we have our own opinion.

Fuck that, I'm not leaving anyone behind.
Damn right!
This isn't something we can just fight, Bobson. And I won't let you all get trapped here because you are stubborn. I will stay behind.
No, I can't let him do that. I'll stay behind and close the stargate.
What? Moose! No, you can't do that!
I have to. Who else should it be? Bobson, you have to finish the game. Kami, your life is just beginning. @twitter, well, like it or not... the world probably needs the service you provide, and who knows what will happen if your embodiment gets stuck here.
I can't imagine a world without #socialmedia. It would be #boring and probably better. But most importantly it would be #boring.
As for you, Zizek, whether you want to admit it or not, you are one of the pre~emininent thinkers of our generation.
I admit it to myself, but to the people I admit nothing but that admissions are lies dressed in the garish clothing of personal indulgence.
So I'll stay here. My story is over. 270 wins. 537 games. 3.68 ERA in one of the highest-offense eras of the game. And, Bobson, I helped get you to the World Series. Now it's up to you.
But we still need you!
No, you need to get back to New York to finish game seven and win the World Series. You can do it now, Bobson. I believe in you. But before you go, I still have one more thing to teach you... My knuckle-curve.
You'd really teach me that?
You gotta win this, Bobson. And the knuckle-curve... In the right spot it can't be hit. Just don't throw it to the Machine with two strikes, I already made that mistake.

Bobson learned a knuckle-curve!

So, to interject for a moment, this game actually has relationship points. In particular, every time I said "fuck that" to one of those trivia questions, we gained one point with Moose, which, in addition to killing Dugan, was important in getting us to 5 points. With 5 or more points, Moose will teach us the knuckle-curve here, making this the second missable pitch - well, three if you count the spitball, but we won't, because we're not cheaters.

Thank you, Moose. I won't let you down.
You're really gonna let Moose do this?
I'm not giving Bobson a choice. You are all going through the portal. If someone has to stay here, it will be me.
Do not worry, Moose, as soon as we return I will #lock your account so it will be preserved for all time.
I actually don't have a twitter account.
Then I am #glad you are staying here.
@twitter! That's just mean!
I just #call them like I see them.
It's okay. I understand. The world has passed me by. That's not such a terrible fate.
Do not worry, Moose. We will remember you.
Will you vote for me to enter the Hall of Fame?
I don't think any of us are BBWAA writers.
But if by some chance you become BBWAA writers, will you vote for me?
If you are one of the ten best candidates.
That's all I can ask for. Now go! Save game seven! Win the World Series I could never win!

And with that, we step into the stargate.







I don't think he's coming, Bobson.
He's doing this to protect us.



God damn it, I wish that didn't scare me so much.



And that's it. Moose has stayed behind in the gritty reboot world, and our group of Bobson, Zizek, Kami and @twitter are now ready to return to the stadium. But that'll be next time.