[https://i.imgur.com/K3YdGYG.png]

Noise from the dance floor of The Dollhouse blared behind him.

He was sitting at the bar, the only one occupying any of the stools. Before him, a chrome skinned man wiped a glass. The basic model of the bartenders that Debrah preferred to employee.

Jester rubbed his eyes as he continued to scan the sign-up sheet for the third round. Three names remained. Which he supposed was appropriate.

The rumor mill claimed, even with the changes, there were four rounds in total.

That to him appeared to be a problem. In most cases, that wouldn’t be an issue. The straight fights would allow such a thing with the even numbers. Now, though? Whatever strange events the Developers were using changed that.

Which meant trouble.

At least they’d color coded this one. A fact that told him they would all be in the arena together.

It confused him.

He assumed they’d want to get them down to the last two. Have the final match as a simple duel between the winners. However, if that was the case, he couldn’t see how they’d managed. Not unless they split them up.

His thoughts wandered to the maze and what lay in its center. Neanderthal. The massive dinosaur robot that was, mostly, responsible for Spellslinger’s defeat. Who they’d changed to be stronger, tougher, and more durable.

They might do the same again.

A room in which they not only battled against each other, but an unstoppable force.

Though for the life of him, he couldn’t think of another robot they could use for that. For a brief instant, he considered one possibility. That they could bring in a robot from another cup.

One who could easily wipe the competition.

Happy Hour, he knew, would have no chance against The Lovecraftian Knight.

Plus, he couldn’t deny the fans would love the spectacle. To watch weaker robots get absolutely destroyed.

He dismissed the thought, however. If they needed two alive, it would be too chaotic. An errant beam or blow could end them all potentially No. He supposed it was more likely they would split them up.

A race, perhaps? Or some kind of puzzle contest? The announcement said they wanted to show off more than the robot’s fights capabilities.

Skills he knew that Happy Hour possessed in spades.

With a shake of his head, he forced himself not to glance at the icon for his messages. That wouldn’t help. His triggered alert would tell him when she was ready. If she was ever ready. DollmakerMC wasn’t messaging anyone about her. Not even Debrah.

Who wasn’t too pleased about being ignored.

Another shake of his head and his attention turned back to the names. His next two opponents. Glasshopper and Charli33. He could still remember Charli33 being the single player to talk to him during round one.

They’d been nice enough. He hoped to face him in the next round.

With what limited time he’d had, he’d done his research. Done what he could to learn what he’d be facing. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure it helped. Both of his opponents were strong in different ways.

Spokes was the name of the robot owned by Charli33. A collection of various bike wheels, all connected with electromagnets. From BMX to tricycle, they formed a long line.

High speed, low defense, great dodging skills. Because of their loser connection, they could shift about. Which made it easy for them to snake through places. It also made its slam attack hard to predict. As pieces could come from almost any direction.

The amount of skill to piece it together with nothing but junkyard scavenging impressed Jester.

Through all the fights he’d watched, he didn’t see it display any ranged attacks. While the wheels could split, none of the wheels could go far. Though it gave it a sort of extended punch.

That, combined with the speed and the dodge, made it an opponent he didn’t want to get stuck in a large room with.

Though, people could say the same of Glasshopper’s machine.

She was more of a mystery than Charli33. While he was open about being a Scrapper, she wasn’t. Not that she seemed to be a big figure in Geartown, either. Small and quiet, she wore a translucent cape that shimmered rainbow occasionally.

It reminded him of insect wings. Her green hair, large wireframe glasses and too pale skin complemented this idea.

Of course, her robot needed to follow the theme.

The thing was big, standing a head taller than Happy Hour. It was also the single contestant that fit the idea of The Frankenstein Cup better than any of the others.

Inectorz was a conglomeration of various insects of all kinds. Of which, Jester recognized a fraction of.

The main body was the most obvious, being a large rhinoceros beetle. From the shiny black carapace, an assortment of legs poked out. Most of them spiders, though he only could name the two Daddy Long legs ones on sight.

Grafted on at the front was a mosquito's proboscis. One that could shoot a strange acidic type substance.

Every time it appeared, it made Jester shudder. The way each of its legs moved in a new and strange way grossed him out. In terms of fighting prowess, though? The skills it displayed impressed him.

Inectorz acid was powerful, and the shell gave it a good defense stats. While it wasn’t fast, it could maneuver the battlefield with each.

Which made sense, seeing as it could climb sheer surfaces with no problems.

A fact it used to its advantage inside the maze. Most of the rooms were some kind of pit trap. It laid in ambush, chilling on the walls. Anytime someone got close, it would spit them with acid and harass them.

Then it would scuttle across the wall and move on to the next victim.

That would make it an issue for Happy Hour no doubt. If they got somewhere with a high ceiling, she wouldn’t have a chance. Inectorz could attack all it wanted. She couldn’t hit back.

Not unless Kylee made her something with range.

Another gun maybe? Though he would prefer something that didn’t explode. Happy Hour was great, but she didn’t have the best record of such things.

Not unless Kylee gave her something ranged.

Or if Madame Merriam designed some kind of flight suit. That could be fun.

As his mind pondered over the possibilities, his eyes wandered towards the dance floor. Kylee was here now. She was on the dance floor with Dam13n. The two of them surrounded by his friends.

Plus some particularly designed Androids. All men, all shirtless, all muscular.

When she noticed him looking, she waved to him. He smiled back and returned his gaze to his drink.

Still as perfect as always.

Kylee, Dam13n and Tiffany were always around when he’d logged in. Tiffany was the one who spelled it out for him. They were worried about him.

Though he suspected Tiffany was enjoying the option of blowing off work. She enjoyed the job, but she wasn’t going to say no to the time off. Even Debrah dropped in from time to time. Though it was rare, and never for long.

Any chance he’d gotten for being lonely with no Happy Hour, his friends crushed early.

A fact he appreciated.

It wouldn’t help to dwell. Which was one reason he was trying to puzzle out the next event. Not that he thought he’d have much of a chance.

“I’ll have what he’s having!”

He grinned as Tiffany took a seat next to him and tapped the table. With a stiff bow, the bartender got to work.

“Hey Tiff, you on break?”

“Yeah, dude. What about you?”

“Still working,” Jester said even as he closed the tab. “Though I don’t think I’m going to get this.”

“Relax, it’ll be fine.” Tiffany patted his shoulder.

“Plus, it might not matter.”

She frowned at that and shook her head.

“None of that.” With one hand she poked his cheek, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ll see.”

“That we will.” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’ll be nice when she’s back, though.”

“True, but at least now you don’t have to ditch her with Merriam when we go on dates.”

They both laughed at that, and Jester almost spilled his drink.

“She’s still asking me to make sure she comes back when she returns. Says she has a special surprise.”

“Joy, that’ll be fun.”

“I’m hoping so.” Jester nodded. “Still, I’m going to miss this. As stressful as it’s been in ways, the outfits are fun.”

“Oh, so cosplay does it for you?” Tiffany’s grin held an edge of something subtle.

“Are you offering?” He mirrored her grin, and she looked away first.

“Mmm, we’ll see. If you’re good.”

“Aha,” Jester laughed again. “Still, it’s nice to see you. I really appreciate you taking so much time to hang out.”

“You keep saying that, dude. I enjoy it too. It’s no bother.”

He opened his mouth to retort when he heard a set of three rings. Three high-pitched beeps followed in rapid succession. Then the three rings again.

That sequence could only mean one thing.

The message was here.

***

[https://i.imgur.com/WrX5Flj.png]

Jester re-read the message.

He couldn’t believe it. A part of him fearing none of it was real. That it was some elaborate joke. The name didn’t help, though he supposed this was an official company message. DollmakerMC could hardly use their own screen name for such a thing.

One thing troubled him, though.

“They don’t say where she is.”

Tiffany looked at him, and he opened his settings. After messing around, he showed her the screen. She performed a sharp inhale as she finished.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“So, she’s really coming back.”

Her words were soft, as though she was worried about being overheard. Though he wasn’t sure why. Still, there was a smile on her face. She reached out and wrapped one arm around him, and he leaned into her.

“Yes, yes, she is.” He whispered. “I know it wasn’t long, but still. If not today, we would haven’t of been able to fight tomorrow.”

“And you missed her.” Tiffany’s tone was teasing.

“Yeah, I did.”

He broke out from the hug and stood up. His eyes scanned the club as though he expected to see her sitting in a booth. A smile appearing on her face as she waved him over.

There was no sign of her, however.

“Do you know how they’ll send her back?” Jester asked.

“No, I’d assumed a teleport or something? Similar to what they did when they grabbed you the first time.” Tiffany shrugged. “Maybe they have something else in mind?”

“Maybe.” He looked around again, but still nothing. “Would the players be an issue?”

Again, Tiffany shrugged.

“Upstairs should be empty, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Can we?”

“Trying to get me alone?” She smiled as she took his hand.

“Maybe,” he said with a laugh. “Come on.”

Hand in hand, they walked to the stairs. Both guards moved. Silent and efficient as always. Jester felt his breathing quicken as they made their way to the club’s second floor. He could almost see how it would play out.

They’d get to the top of the stairs. A spotlight would be shining into the ring. Then Happy Hour would appear as whole and healthy as she always was.

It would be perfect.

No one was there when they reached the top of the stairs. The entire place was empty. Even the door to Debrah’s office wasn’t visible.

Tiffany clucked her tongue.

“Sorry dude.”

“It’s ok.” He tried to shrug it off. “She’ll get here.”

Together, they sat and waited. His gaze fixed on the center of the ring. That, he was sure, was where she’d appear. It was too thematic not to be. Beside him, Tiffany was typing away.

A minute later, Kylee and Dam13n arrived. Both of them taking seats nearby. Debrah showed up next, her door appearing and then vanishing. Madame Merriam was the last to arrive.

Soon, all of them were sitting around. Each staring at the ring as though it held their last hope.

“Would have been nice of them, to be more specific,” Madame Merriam muttered for the third time.

“They probably forgot,” Debrah sighed. “They are like that.”

Kylee snorted and waved a hand. “I hope they’re teleporting her to Jester, and not like somewhere he’s meant to go find her.”

“Man, could you imagine?” Dam13n laughed. “He’d be like a knight searching for a princess.”

“No towers big enough in Geartown.” Tiffany shifted beside him.

“Plus, Happy Hour isn’t much of a princess.”

“True.” Kylee nodded. “With her armor? She’d be the one saving you.”

That got a laugh, and he couldn’t deny her words.

“What’s so funny, Jester?”

He almost knocked the seat over in his haste to get up. When he was steady, he whirled around. To his shock, Happy Hour was there behind him. Dressed in her normal star covered outfit.

Whiskers was in her arms, the kitten purring. That was odd. The last he’d heard, Dam13n was keeping the robopet somewhere.

“Happy Hour?” Jester whispered.

“Yes, Jester?”

Whiskers let out a meow, his eyes glowing a bright blue.

“Are you ok?”

It wasn’t the most insightful question he knew, but he needed to know. DollmakerMC mentioned rebuilding her code. He wondered if she still could activate dance emotes. Her old designer mentioned he thought that caused problems.

Happy Hour smiled and dropped into a curtsy.

“I’m fine, Jester. Good as new. I apologize for my previous behavior.”

“No need.”

Before he could stop himself, he moved. She followed suit, and soon enough, he’d wrapped her in a hug. He was laughing, and found he couldn’t stop. She was giggling to herself. Whiskers let out an indignant meow in protest.

Neither paid him much mind.

From behind him, he could hear laughs and cheers.

“I missed you,” he said as they broke apart. “What do you remember?”

Happy Hour’s smile faded. “That I have a message for you.”

“Oh?”

“DollmakerMC said to be careful. That they did everything possible, but the virus may still interact oddly. Though it should be more stable.”

“That’s something?” Jester said as he led her back towards the couch. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“He said something about a rage form?” She shrugged. “Said something about keeping Whiskers close. That’s why he’s here now.”

“You don’t remember?”

She shook her head.

“That’s fine.”

“Hey Happy Hour!” Tiffany called out. “Welcome back.”

“It’s good to be back, Tiffany.” Happy Hour dropped into a curtsy once more.

Everyone got up then, one by one, coming to welcome her back. All the while, Jester sat there. It didn’t feel totally real. Plus, he was curious. Rage form. That sounded like something new. Did DollmakerMC do more than simply fix her code?

“Jester?”

“Yes, sorry. What’s up?”

He smiled as Whiskers hopped into his lap. The robopet purred and gave him a small headbutt. For a second, he thought he saw a flash of purple. However, it was gone before he could be sure. Strange.

“Kylee asked if you wanted to go over weapon strategies for tomorrow’s fight?” Happy Hour asked.

Jester nodded. “Sure. Yeah, that sounds good. Do you have an outfit you want to wear?”

“Any that aren’t rabbit themed.” Her response was prompt, and Madame Merriam snorted.

“Don’t you fret, dear. I’ll make sure of that. That last one was atrocious, even before it transformed.”

“So, do you have any ideas?” Jester asked. “Apart from not rabbits.”

Debrah shifted in her seat.

“I think, considering, she needs something happy. The last anyone saw of her, she was transforming into a monster. Any sort of image we can use to counterbalance that would be good.”

“Happy?” Happy Hour asked. “I always am.”

Dam13n groaned at the poor joke. “Really?”

She beamed.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Jester said. “The question is what?”

“I have some spare things lying around,” Madame Merriam said. “Though Happy isn’t very specific.”

“We’re trying for the opposite of what she was, right?” Kylee asked.

When the rest of the room nodded, she continued. “Then we want something that is bright. Cheerful. Fun. Hope instead of fear.”

Madame Merriam stood. “I have an idea. Boy?”

“Yes?” Jester and Dam13n said in unison.

That earned them a snort.

“What do you think of superheroes?”

“In general?” He asked. “Their alright.”

“That will do.” Madame Merriam clicked her fingers as she turned to Happy Hour. As she spoke, she gestured to Kylee. “We do not have much time. Come.”

“Sure.”

“No tight spandex please.” Happy Hour rose from her chair.

“I know your preferences, dear. Trust me, I’m a professional.”

Jester made to rise as well, but Tiffany pulled him down. An act that earned her an approving smile from Madame Merriam.

“You stay here. We’ll call when we’re ready.”

“But—”

“—no buts,” Madame Merriam said forcefully. “You’ll have time to catch up later, boy. Now is the time for art.”

With that, she turned, Happy Hour following in her wake. He didn’t bother to argue; he knew it wouldn’t do him any good.

“They’ll be back,” Tiffany said.

“I know.”

“Want to take me out for a drink to get your mind off it?” She asked and squeezed his hand.

“I do indeed.”

***

He knew her intent was to distract him.

It worked.

No sooner did he agree than she’d dragged him off. Arm in arm, they walked towards a small café she liked. One that sold miniature pies and giant milkshakes. Plus, it was off the beaten path. A fact both of them appreciated.

Once they’d sat, Tiffany reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Congratulations, dude.”

“What for?” Jester asked, as he tapped at the menu.

“For getting Happy Hour back, duh.”

She followed suit, and soon enough a small cat like robot was at their table. Food exactly as requested.

“Thanks.” Jester smiled and gave her hand a squeeze of his own. “I mean it. Thanks for everything. For putting up with me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She grinned and showed teeth. “You know, if I was less charitable, I may not have put up with you pining over the other woman like this.”

He coughed as the sip of milkshake he’d taken went down the wrong pipe. He thumped at his own chest. Real world habits taking over. She was still smiling. A fact that let him know that her timing was deliberate.

“What?” Jester stared at her wide eye’d. “No. It’s not like that. Not interested in Happy Hour like that. Plus, we have our thing.”

“Relax dude, I’m fucking with you.” Tiffany laughed. “I get it. You should see some regulars when something happens to their beloved machines. You weren’t nearly as mopey.”

There was a shine in her eye as she continued.

“Also, what exactly do you mean by our thing?”

“The dating thing?” He asked. “What we’re doing now?”

“Good, I’d hoped that was what you meant.”

Her chair creaked as she leaned back into it. He followed suit, relaxing. She’d been messing with him. That was all.

“So, tell me honestly. Do you feel better?” She asked. “Now that she’s back?”

“Yeah.” Jester nodded. “Yeah, I do. No more needing to stress over getting potentially terminated from the fights.”

“About that.” Tiffany raised a hand. “What are you going to do if you lose tomorrow?”

“I have no idea.” Jester shrugged.

It was true, too. He didn’t. Most of his plans involved him winning the Frankenstein cup at a minimum. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have the credits or money he needed. Therefore, no chance of buying Markal’s store.

“You’re not going to quit, right?”

“No, not at all.” He waved the idea away.

“Can always get work in the Dollhouse.”

“You just want to see me at work.”

She grinned at him. “Guilty as charged.”

He shrugged and smiled back. “Maybe. Other things I could do. Mistletail would have work for me, I’m sure.”

“She runs the union, right? With the big guy you were telling me about. Andy?”

“Andry,” Jester corrected. “But yeah.”

Tiffany shook her head. “I can’t believe that was a thing. No one talks about it around here.”

“It’s pretty much only in The Outskirts to be fair.”

“Still, it really is strange how separated the game is.” Tiffany shook her head. “Reckon this patch will change that?”

“Well, considering the stream of people heading for The Junkyard. Yeah.”

They fell into silence, which was broken by a chime. Madame Merriam was summoning them.

“I’m being called,” Jester said as he rose.

“Another woman demanding your attention.” Tiffany let out a theatrical sigh. “Really dude, I don’t know how you expect me to put up with this.”

“With grace and beauty.” He waved at her as she rose with him. “You want to come?”

“Sure.”

She took his arm again, and they grabbed their milkshakes to go. The pies had long since gone.

Their robot server beeped as they left. A happy sound that made Jester grin. He couldn’t help but appreciate little player touches like that.

Madame Merriam was waiting next to Kylee when they arrived. At seeing the way Tiffany was holding his arm, she nodded.

“I see you have the boy well-trained.”

“Not much I needed to do, really,” Tiffany said. “He’s a smart one.”

“That’s the first time someone said that about him.” Kylee waved. “Hey Jester.”

“Hey.” He looked around and frowned. “Where’s Happy Hour?”

“Up here, citizen!”

Jester looked up and leapt backwards. From the ceiling, Happy Hour fell, crashing down in a perfect three point landing. As he examined her, he couldn’t help but nod. The outfit wasn’t skimpy spandex.

She wore a bright turquoise and yellow cloak and cowl affair. Madame Merriam had designed the thing to hide as much of her body as possible. It draped off her, with the excess fabric pooling around the floor at her feet.

Because of her pose, however, he could see one of her gloves. It was bright yellow, with a happy face stitched into the back of it.

That made him laugh.

“Happy Hour?”

“That’s Captain Joy to you!”

In one swift move, she stood and ripped the out layer off. He whistled at the sight.

She wore spandex coated body armor. He could see lumps that were clearly where normal armor sat. Around her waist was a sturdy belt, the buckle of which was another smiley face.

A full mask covered the entirety of her face and head. Yet another pure yellow smiley face. With holes cut out of it for her eyes.

It looked ridiculous. Like she was one of those yellow stress balls someone had stretched out.

“Really?” Tiffany said. “That’s. Bright.”

“Ha Ha!” Happy Hour called. “I am the bringer of smiles. Harbinger of gleefulness. Dispeller of frowns.”

Her voice held authority and pride. Jester nodded along with her words. He couldn’t deign it. Madame Merriam took the happy and hopeful advice to heart.

“So,” he asked. “Captain Joy?”

“She chose the name herself,” Kylee said. “We had nothing to do with it.”

“Uh-huh.” He looked at Happy Hour, who was now posing dramatically. “And you had this on hand?”

Madame Merriam shook her head, causing her hair to ripple strangely for a few seconds.

“Not exactly. A few tweaks got an older design where I wanted it.”

“I see.” With a sigh, he turned to Kylee. “What about weapons?”

“Captain Joy’s weapon is an infectious positivity and a charming wit!” Happy Hour proclaimed.

“Yeah, she’s been refusing anything I could make her.” Kylee shrugged. “I was thinking maybe some smoke bombs and a grappling hook?”

“Why a grappling hook?” Jester asked.

“Because all the cool heroes have them.” She grinned. “Plus, if there is another maze, some verticality may not hurt.”

“True enough. You have them on hand?”

“I have some stuff I can change quickly.”

“Great.”

Happy Hour stopped posing as Jester turned to her.

“You’re getting some equipment.”

“Captain Joy has no need for extras!” Happy Hour pointed at him. “She is fine as she is.”

“Should a hero not be better than fine?” He asked. “Should one not wish to be as prepared as she can be?”

That appeared to make her pause. He grinned.

“Plus, I bet we can make the smoke yellow.”

“Can the bombs have happy faces on them?” Her voice was quiet.

He looked to Kylee, who nodded.

“Sure can,” Jester said. “That work for you?”

“Yes, that would be fine. You shall be her support team in the field.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now let’s go. We don’t have a lot of time before tomorrow’s fight.”