[Edward sounds just as melodramatic as ever on the phone, but something's... different about him today.]

Harley. I...

[A brief intake of breath before continuing:]

I need to speak with you. Are you available?

[First, a public call, filtered from drones and the like.]

First we're told not to drink the milk. It's poison, they say. Now, apparently, we aren't to be drinking the water, either? Believe me when I say that my childhood isn't something I was particularly happy to return to. Not at all.

[He lets out a low sigh before filtering the call to Pokey ( Read more... )

[If you happen to be out and about today, Mayfield, you'll find a familiar-looking ten-year-old boy with glasses, green suspenders, and an incredibly dorky haircut, wandering around while tugging a backpack that's way too big for him and mumbling to himself.]

...stupid dad, never picks me up on time...

...which way was home again?

[He looks ( Read more... )

[First, a public call, filtered from drones/Grady/Mayor/Postman/etc.]

Riddle me this. When you have it, you'll want to share it, but if you share it, you'll no longer have it.

It's a secret, ladies and gentlemen, and it seems as though the Mailman's incapable of keeping one. I know others have said it before, but come now. Surely we're all smart ( Read more... )

[Edward comes downstairs on Christmas Morning, wading through the sea of cats that had seemingly filled up the house. Coming across a bunch of presents beneath the tree in green wrapping paper, he smirks. He takes a look at the note, tossing it backwards and tearing into his presents like a little kid. He pulls out his cane. A new revolver. A ( Read more... )

[Christmas Time is coming! Today, you'll probably find Edward in one of three locations.

A. At the Christmas Village, dressed in his little "Helper Elf" costume and freezing furiously. He does not look at all happy to be there.

B. Wandering through the town, dressed in a warm, green pea-coat, a jade scarf wrapped around his neck, just admiring the ( Read more... )

[Edward just stares at his letter, still blown away, before picking up the phone.]

[Filtered from Grady/Drones/Etc.]

Well, it appears I've finally been given a job once again. To anyone who's had the pleasure of being one of my students, I'm sorry to say I will not be returning to my teaching position.

However, I, Edward Nigma, will be serving... ( Read more... )

[Edward's busily attending to a crossword puzzle in the kitchen. He muses over it before groaning in frustration and grabbing the phone ( Read more... )

[You might hear the sounds of an attack turkey banging against a door. Edward's managed to trap it in his bedroom closet... for now.]

H-H-Harley?! Do you still have that mallet? I may need some help with---

[There's a sound like wood splintering. And breaking. Edward shrieks, accordingly.

Happy Thanksgiving, Mayfield.]

[Edward wakes up in a bedroom. He sits up, rubs his eyes and quickly realizes... this isn't his bed.]

Oh no.

[He shoots out of bed, checks the photos in the room. A white-haired woman, a small boy, and... him?!]

Oh no!

[He dashes to the window and spies a very familiar cul-de-sac.]

DAMN IT! NOT AGAIN!
[He dashes out of the bedroom to find a telephone and ( Read more... )