Iggy's sleepy eyes begin to open. The first thing he sees on his desk is... nothing.

"That's not right... I swear I..." Iggy mutters, half-asleep.

"MY SCRIPT! WHERE'S MY SCRIPT!?"

He scrambles outside the room and goes to the oval office, nearly tripping on the way there. Anxious as he seems, he keeps his composure, thinking he has been sabotaged.

Iggy's rushed sense of consciousness made him open an already open door.

"Have any of you seen my script!?" Iggy pants.

A smile comes from The Director and Pickle's faces.

"Congratulations, Iggy." The Director cheerfully tells him.

"Uh... what~"

"Your script got a nine, dude!" Pickle adds to the conversation.

Iggy's mouth opens in celebration. His sweat replaced with perseverance, his anxiety replaced with celebration.

With glee in their faces, Iggy and Pickle begin breakdancing.

"Looks like he's worthy, naGran." The Director tells him with a foolish delivery.

"I can't accept this..." naGran says as he begins trembling...

"A nine... from a mere kid like him..." He added.

...

A shotgun from inside the desk closet.

naGran reloads and aims at Iggy.

The celebration stops.

"Don't you dare think you can get away with this~"

"FRICK! CRUD!" Iggy says at the last second.

BANG!

Iggy scrams out of the room, panicking.

"Come back here you little~" naGran says as he chases Iggy out of the room.

BANG!

Pickle blacks out, extremely horrified in the most joker way possible. The Director can't help but gag at his traumatized face.

"naGran, naGran..." The Director says, shaking her head.

Floating endlessly, Pickle regains consciousness.

"HUH!? DIRECTOR! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

"He does that to his staff every time they make a better character design than him."

"Wow, Father's a bad, bad sport, isn't he...~" Pickle replies...

"WAIT, ENOUGH OF THAT, IGGY'S LIFE IS IN DANGER! WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST LAUGHING THERE!?" He screams out loud.

"You wanna save the kid?" The director asks.

"...Of course I do, what kind of stupid question is that?"

"Consider this your first mission. Follow me."

Meanwhile, Iggy continuously treks down the corridor, passing through the conference room. Tired and frail, the head with a bald head keeps screwing everyone off.

"Screw the education system... Screw the two-party system..."

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

He's very drunk. Err, he's actually just tired of brainstorming too much.

RULE 4: DON'T OVERWORK YOURSELF!

naGran comes inside the conference room.

"Hands in the air; Who the hell saw a kid with dreadlocks pass by here?"

"Screw you..." The head groggily responds.

naGran aims his shotgun at the head of the head's head.

"He went that way." He replies nonchalantly.

Without a word, naGran leaves the conference room... but he comes back to ask a question.

"...How's the movie going?" He asks the head.

"We're busted, old man..."

He loses consciousness in front of naGran.

"Kids these days..."

Meanwhile, The Director and Pickle make their way into the basement. The glowing aura of 1KX greets the two.

Pickle blushes.

"She's beautiful..." Pickle says.

"No, no, that's the weapon, not your love affair." The Director interrupts.

"Damn it."

A rather simple glass box covers the weapon encased in a bottle. The Director, with a snap of her finger, pulls the piston's cover and opens the glass box.

She pulls the bottle out of the box and right into her arms.

"It's all yours, Follower."

Pickle intently looks at the blue cosmic blob inside the bottle. Growing a pair of hands, he takes the bottle from The Director's arms.

Pickle twists the bottle cap open. It releases the blob inside of the bottle and it starts wandering about...

Then it sets its focus on Pickle.

Its sudden burst of speed it gained from spinning around him makes the blob look more like a ring revolving around him.

"Hahaha, that tickles!" Pickle says.

The blob carefully closes in... And it makes contact with Pickle's body.

Pickle's eyes shut down.

The merge makes Pickle levitate even further, and it makes him glow even brighter...

Even brighter...

To the point where The Director had to put on her sunglasses over her regular ones to see the spectacle in silence.

She sips her juice box out of nowhere.

From outside, the entire studio glows white...

Then darkness.

Iggy has been taking a peek from behind a tree in the orchard.

"Where did that light come from?" Iggy asked himself, scratching his head.

naGran from afar. "THERE YOU ARE!"

"SHOOT!"

BANG! The bullets ricochet through the orchard.

"PICKLE! HELP!" Iggy begs as he swiftly makes his way back inside through the back door and into a room filled with boxes.

Out of breath, Iggy closes the door.

...Pickle is right beside him.

"Sup?" He asks Iggy.

"Oh, it's you..." Iggy replies, panting. Did you prepare a eulogy for me?"

Iggy tilts his head in curiosity.

"Wait, is it just me, or something's different about you?"

The outer layer of Pickle's body is glowing neon blue.

"I consumed the weapon! Pretty cool, huh?"

"Yeah..." Iggy says, still out of breath. He rests himself behind the door.

"Honestly, I was expecting a bazooka or something." He added.

"IGGY!? WHERE ARE YOU!?" Old Man naGran playfully shouts.

"Oh, crud, he's close!" Iggy anxiously says.

"Okay, listen. The Director told me I can summon anything you want, as long as it's in the weapon's story catalog."

"Uh... summon the eldritch god from Cthulhu Chronicles 2!"

"What are you? Stupid? That thing can kill us all!"

"Dang. Uh... Military weapons! A pistol, a sniper..."

Panic in Iggy's voice.

"Oh! A Bazooka!"

Pickle follows his command and begins searching for a bazooka in himself; his eyes turned into a loading screen. "Searching for a Bazooka..."

...

"Found one! ...though it's quite unconventional."

"Who cares? Just take it out!"

"Right back atcha!"

Pickle's body becomes a convoluted mess, trying to let out the bazooka... But all it let out is a cloud of blue smoke.

"That's... not a bazooka." Iggy replies.

"You're right, it's a stupid goddamn gas cloud." Pickle disappointingly grunts.

"It needs a host, Follower." The Director says, hiding from behind the boxes.

"What the~ You've been listening to us?"

"Always has been." The director replies.

"Yeah, right..." Pickle impatiently responds. "Anyway, what do you mean by 'It needs a host', Director?"

"Parasites need hosts as much as what you're summoning needs it. A body for a body, an item for an item, a soul for a soul." The Director says.

"Iggy, you have a toy shotgun with you."

Iggy looks back and sees the barrel of his toy shotgun behind him.

"Use it to your advantage." The Director added.

He looks up at the smoke and back at his shotgun. Iggy puts the shotgun in his hands and raises the shotgun to the blue smoke. The smoke guides itself into the barrel of the shotgun...

Sure enough, it begins transforming into a bazooka.

Iggy started to slowly but surely, curse in silence. Pickle is flabbergasted. The Director is smirking, acting as if she has seen this scene before.

The transformation finishes, and the weapon lands on Iggy.

He now has a fancy bazooka based on the story of...

Two Piece.

There's a little straw hat from behind the bazooka's front sight.

"I recognize this weapon. This is from the Two Piece comics..." Iggy says.

"Ha, I know EXACTLY how to use this one." He smilingly added.

From outside, naGran is still looking for Iggy.

"I know you're here... So show up and be a man!"

The door creaks open.

Iggy and Pickle come out; dust and smoke leaking from behind them.

"Ready, Iggy?"

Iggy takes a deep breath and nods.

"Right back at you, Pickle."

naGran grins with interest. "So, you finally have your hands on the weapon now, eh? Heh."

Iggy aims the bazooka at him. The gun Iggy used to threaten Massacre is now very gun threatening naGran.

"Let's see what you got, kid."