Chapter 13: Networking (Patreon)

Ron glanced over at Jeb clomping down the road, patting his forehead with the damp towel. Then the Mystic Taxidermist did a double-take.

“Holy shit!” Ron dropped his hoe and leaped over the waist-high fence, landing on the dirt path outside his land and sprinting toward Jeb at a decidedly inhuman pace. Maybe not car speed, but definitely as fast as a four-wheeler.

“Ron, hold up, I’m not –“

Ron tackled Jeb’s chest, sending both of them careening to the ground. The necromancer’s arms were like living iron, squeezing Jeb with no regard for the sanctity of his bones.

“We thought you were imprisoned by the empire or dead or something! What happened!?”

“If you don’t let go,” Jeb gasped, staring up at the sky. “I might be.”

“Oh.” Ron released Jeb’s waist and stood up, peering down at him quizzically.

Jeb decided to stay down a little longer, poking his ribs to make sure they were whole.

“So what’s up, man?” Ron’s eyes flickered to Smartass hovering above Jeb. “Smartass.”

“Ron.” Smartass said, arms crossed.

“You want the long story or the short one?” Jeb said, taking Ron’s hand and pulling himself to his foot.

“Let’s go with the long story. I got time.” Ron crooked his finger, and the nearby tractor-zombie lumbered closer.

“Tell Tony to bring the good juice from the bottom shelf, along with some ice, and a bunch of wood for a gazebo. Yeah, bring Jack and Jesus.”

“UUUurgh.” The zombie Lumbered off.

“Semi-autonomous,” Ron said, motioning to the zombie with a flourish. “figured it out a few days after we got out.”

“So what happened to everyone?” Jeb asked. “I’m very curious.”

“That makes two of us,” Ron said, motioning for Jeb to follow. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine?”

“Gross. But acceptable.”

Ron chuckled.

Ron led him to a gate leading to the inside of the property and together they followed a little dirt path until they came to an artesian well where water simply squirted out into the air on its own, and zombies lined up to fill water barrels.

There was a refreshing mist of water in the air, and Ron motioned for the rotting corpses to wander off while they sat down next to the splashing fountain.

Jesus and Jack were codenames for Ron’s lumber-based zombies, with saws, hammers, planers and more fused to their insectoid limbs. In a matter of minutes, they constructed shelter from the sun around the two of them while they spoke.

Jeb told Ron everything he could about the last couple months. He left out fairy impact harvesting techniques and his suspicions about the lump on his head, but for the most part, he told the necromancer everything.

“That’s total bullshit.” Ron said, shaking his head.

“To be fair, option number one was killing me.” Jeb said.

“So you’re supposed to kiss the ground they walk on? Assholes.”

“I don’t think they’re universally assholes, or even evil,” Jeb said, rubbing the ring on his finger.

“Well, whatever. I’m sure you’ll be fine. You got a knack for being the underdog. What are you planning to do without a class, though?”

“Ah ah,” Jeb held up a finger. “I told you what happened to me, now you have to tell me what happened to everyone else.”

“Let’s see…” Ron said, setting his mug of fruit juice on his knee. “Well, when we got there, they congratulated us and threw this huge party.”

He stared into Jeb’s eyes. “I’m talking huge party. And there was every kind of entertainment you could possibly ask for. I mean it. There were these melas dancers who –“

“How about we focus on the survivors.”

“Ahem,” Ron cleared his throat. “Right. So there we were at this party, and after the festivities had wound down, the emperor gathered us all together in the same room and he gave us this amazing speech about how we should all consider working together with the empire to ease the transition. Politics-type stuff, you know. He offered us citizenship for free as well as jobs to the ones who were interested.”

“He said all this in the speech?” Jeb asked.

Ron frowned. “You know what? I don’t really remember the specifics of the speech.”

“You don’t remember, but it was amazing?” Jeb asked, little alarm bells going off in his head. “What’s your Nerve?”

“Twenty-seven,” Ron said, staring out into his farm, idly thumbing the handle of his drink. “Anyway, a lot of us took him up on the citizenship thing, but only a few people wanted to actually work for the empire.”

Let’s not poke at the gaps in his memory, Jeb thought. As far as he knew, twenty-seven was enough nerve to remember nearly everything in crystal-clear detail. The specifics of a speech fell well inside that category.

The fact Ron couldn’t remember exactly what it was implied magic or a Class Ability.

“Who all did what?” Jeb asked.

“Well, Freeman retired to the remains of Louisiana, looking for family. Brett and Amanda jumped onto the Empire train in exchange for land and titles. They’re technically the highest ranked human aristocracy, now.”

“Those whores.” Jeb said with a grin.

“Yeah,” Ron chuckled. “Jess…she broke up with me.”

Jeb struggled to keep a straight face as the young necromancer tried to drown his sorrows in juice. A relationship that started with a fling spurred on by the certainty of imminent death wasn’t exactly the bedrock that you build a life on.

“She took an Enforcer job, she’s off who-knows where…killing people.”

“She did get the Assassin Class to start with,” Jeb said with a shrug. “That has to imply she was at least willing to kill people before.”

“I know, I know.” Ron grumbled.

“Casey and Mike, they didn’t take the Empire Job, they sold a bit of their share and opened a living restaurant. I was aimless for a while, then I realized if Casey can capitalize on free labor, why can’t I? So I decided to buy a farm. More of a plantation, really. In a couple more weeks, I’ll have my first crop!”

“These boys are just smart enough to lend out, so I get a little extra spending money that way,” Ron said, patting Jesus the zombie carpenter on the leg.

“Why not take the empire up on the job thing?” Jeb asked, but he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

“Something I realized in the Tutorial. I’m not cut out for fighting.” Ron shook his head. “I spent every day for years just playing a necromancer in D&D, imagining how I’d be some kind of lord of the dead, master of all I survey, but man…that’s not my scene. The idea of actually killing people makes me insanely sick to my stomach, and if there’s anything that makes you recognize your own mortality it’s seeing people drop like flies around you.”

Ron shrugged. “All I wanna do now is get by.”

Jeb tapped his fingers on the back of his hand. “What did you mean when you said ‘share’?”

“The haul from the shipping area, plus the reward from the System for killing the World Tortoise. You didn’t…get that?”

Jeb sighed. “No, I didn’t get that. Although I did drink my share from the shipping area.”

“Oh,” Ron rubbed his neck uncomfortably. “Well, your share is sitting in the empire’s vault. We all decided to set some aside in case you were still alive. Freeman left all his share behind, and we added it in. The only problem was we couldn’t figure out who was gonna babysit a mountain of loot indefinitely, so the emperor let us use his vault.”

“I’m sure he was happy to do that,” Jeb said, tone flat.

“Eh. We were half convinced you’d been vaporized or some such.” Ron shrugged. “Seemed like as good a place as any.”

“Well, I’ll look into claiming that one day if it becomes an option,” Jeb said.

“Did you…Did you need money?” Ron asked. “Cuz I could–“

Jeb held his hand up, then revealed the case of gold hanging from his shoulder.

“Today I’m looking to buy.”

Ron’s face split in a boyish grin. “Fella, you’ve come to the right place.”

***

“You’re okay with it if this breaks?” Jeb asked one last time, holding the ivory ring between his fingers.

“Knock yourself out, man, I don’t even need it anymore.”

Jeb tugged off his appraiser and blew smoke out of it while Ron looked on in fascination.

Ring of Myst +3

Crafted by a jeweler to find her child that had been spirited away, this ring offers a glimpse into the unseen world. The jeweler poured years of her life and lost an eye to the creation of this artifact in the hopes that she could locate him again. In the end, the ring itself was traded for her son’s life, but the boy was greatly diminished, and she could never again see him without the aid of the ring she had bargained away.

“That’s really cool.” Ron said, watching the roiling Myst form a solid panel, suspending the ring in the top.

Jeb grunted and caught the Myst ring on the way back down, then slipped it on his finger. The ring seemed to relax around his finger, growing wider as it engulfed his digit. Jeb’s temples began to pound, and he knew it was working.

He used the appraiser on himself.

Jebediah Trapper

Mystic Trapsmith, Level 39

Accolades: Krusker’s Brawn, Siren’s Cunning, R-R-RubU’s Mysteries, Gresh’s Subtlety, Innovator, Lagross’s Power.

Body 21 (9)

Myst 71 (16+3)

Nerve 26 (10)

Abilities: Mystic Trigger

Accolade Pending: Lagross’s Power suspended due to multiple instances. Awaiting resolution.

Attention, this User has been flagged for exclusion from the System by executive order.

There it is. Thank God I can still inflate my stats. “How much you want for it?” Jeb asked.

“For you?” Ron asked. “On the house.”

“These, on the other hand,” Ron ran his fingers over the case full of artifacts before opening the wooden lid with a dramatic flourish. “These will cost you.”

Jeb nearly squinted at the sheer amount of wealth on display blasting him in the face. Ron didn’t actually have to work a day in his life, the farm was just something to do.

“I’ll take the slave collars,” Jeb said, pointing. That’s right, Ron snagged these at the end of the first tutorial.  “I need control lenses, and examples of circuitry.”

Jeb went through and started identifying the wands on display.

Wand of Flowing Barriers

The ultimate intersection between personal protection and affordability, Life-aide’s Wand of Flowing Barriers releases a thin film that instantly settles into the air, creating a malleable barrier that is difficult and time consuming to penetrate, giving you the opportunity to escape or launch a counter-attack!

Whether you need protection from monsters or simply need to buy time to make yourself presentable, Life-Aide is on your side!

Warning, choking hazard. Do not use Wand of Flowing Barriers in a manner other than for its intended purpose. Do not tamper with Wand of Flowing Barriers. Doing so voids all warranty and may result in serious injury or death. Life-aide is not liable for any damages caused by using the product other than for its intended purpose.

“Ehh….

Jeb set aside the pearlescent wand and tossed the next one into the Appraisal cloud.

It was a simple steel tube with a ruler stamped into the side of the metal and a couple different sliding focus rings along the side.

Wand of Sand-blast.

The right tool for every job. The wand of sand-blast sends a fine blast of sand out, potentially blinding opponents. But wait, there’s more!

The wand of sand-blast can also be used to sand furniture and other projects, even steel and gemstones. It can even be used to cut and polish at different settings. It’s the perfect tool for the crafty son of a bitch in your family this holiday season.

Warning, blinding hazard. Do not use Wand of Sand-blast in a manner other than for its intended purpose. Do not tamper with Wand of Sand-blast. Doing so voids all warranty and may result in serious injury or death. Ricter’s is not liable for any damages caused by using the product other than for its intended purpose.

“Interesting. Next.”

Wand of Translocated Vision.

Need a clear point of view to fill out that map, or find true north when the canopy is blocking the sun from view? Look no further than the wand of translocated vision!

Creates a temporary invisible sensor linked to the caster at the focal point of the wand, with a practical range of up to a hundred feet. The user’s viewpoint will switch to the sensor’s immediately upon casting.

Scout Rabzi dens in advance, check around the corner of that tunnel for lurking Smorlocks, all without exposing yourself to danger! Smart wizards choose Tenacity™!

May cause nausea. Tenacity ™ is not liable for any motion-sickness or temporary loss of vision the user may experience. Do not use Wand of translocated Vision in a manner other than for its intended purpose. Do not tamper with Wand of translocated Vision. Doing so voids all warranty and may result in arrest for spying on the opposite sex.

“It boggles my mind, the gulf between the hyper-consumer tone of wands, versus the Grimm fairy tale tone of rings,” Jeb said, holding up the ivory ring on his hand.

“I think it’s because rings can’t be mass produced?” Ron said. “I mean, you made your fireball wand in less than a week, with scraps. I wouldn’t know the first thing about these rings.”

Something to think about, Jeb thought, eyeing the ivory ring.

*****

“Okay, two slave collars, the bubble wand, sand wand, peeping wand, and the gold ring of Body plus three. That’ll be eleven hundred bulbs, or seventy pounds of gold bullion. Would you like me to wrap that up for you?” Ron asked with a hint of a smile.

“Can I get a–“

“That is at a discount.”

“Just the barrier wand for now, then,” Jeb said, “I’ll be back in a couple days with more gold.”

“I don’t doubt it. I’ll be holding onto these for you until then.”

Jeb wanted to grumble aloud and impugn Ron’s family, but that would be a lie, so he settled for a glare.

“Thanks for the ring, Ron.” Jeb waved as he headed out, completely bled of gold by the heartless monster.

“Yer welcome, come on back anytime. You too, Smartass.”

Smartass waved from Jeb’s shoulder before giving the necromancer a raspberry.

****

Jeb walked down the road, passing by the occasional rusting heap of steel that hadn’t been moved out of the street yet.

I wonder if I could use Ron as reinforcements, Jeb thought, only the sounds of overcrowding disturbing his thoughts: People fighting over scraps of food and children screaming. The usual.

Jeb had only two moral compunctions about using Ron’s zombies as extra workforce. First, he could see a thousand different ways Ron’s zombies could get caught trying to steal children, and those zombies were indisputably Ron’s.

Good way to get the ginger set upon by a mob with torches and pitchforks.

And second, the kid said he wasn’t a fighter. The only reason he’d been a fighter in the tutorial was because the alternative was death. Ron’s greatest aspiration was to start a business, get married and have kids. He was already halfway there.

As soon as ladies figured out the necromancer was young, single, had money, food, a place to live, and protection, well… he was about to get very popular, as soon as a woman was brave enough to investigate the mysterious owner of Working Stiffs.

Better to keep Ron out of the splash zone, blame-wise. I’d rather have him available for the long term rather than get him arrested or killed.

So If I’m not using Ron, then what’s my in? I need to start yanking kids off the streets, but without getting caught. I was considering using a custom built zombie to somewhat disguise my involvement from the casual observer, but that’s not gonna fly.

Honestly, Jeb didn’t have the first clue about how he would go about stealing children, because he wasn’t a psycho child predator.

I guess the first thing I would do is find some kids living on their own to steal. Jeb thought back to the kids dwelling in the bookstore.

Check.

Then I would case them, either by myself or myself or with loyal investigators. Then as soon as I got a solid idea of their comings and goings, I would exploit some flaw in their child-logic and lure one away from the group and pick them off.

Not checked.

Maybe I should’ve bought the Peeping Tom wand.

Jeb had prioritized his own protection over information gathering, and it looked like that was going to slow down his job. Not by a lot, given he was about to go home and begin producing gold bullion.

I wonder if I could hire a private investigator. No, It might be better to buy one from the slavehouse. Then I know they’re not involved.

“Nancy!”

A single voice cut through the chatter of humans littering the streets, dragging Jeb’s thoughts back to the present.

“Naancyyy!” Another voice echoed through the streets. Young.

Jeb frowned and changed the direction of his foot, heading toward the voices.

“Nancy! Where are you!?”

Jeb turned down an alley that connected to the next road over. Several men sat in the alley, conserving their energy, ribs sticking out like the dry twigs of a mummy. Jeb passed them without a second glance.

Can’t save everyone.

Jeb followed the voices to a small backroad, where he spotted about two dozen children marching through the street, hollering ‘Nancy’ at the top of their lungs, many of them crying.

There’s Rufio. Jeb thought, eyes narrowing as a memory triggered. And now you told a stranger Nancy’s name. Great. Good job.

Their Nancy is missing? Today!?

Jeb had been close enough to bump shoulders with the culprit! Had the bastard been listening when the kid mentioned Nancy’s name and used that to steal her? Jeb quickly ran through his memory of the day’s events and didn’t remember anyone being close enough to have heard them.

There was nobody in eyeshot, but there was a distinct possibility that Jeb had seen them immediately before or after if they’d been close enough to eavesdrop with magic.

Damn, I wish child-killers would just wear signs that said ‘I’m the bad guy’. Make life a lot simpler.

Jeb lurked in the dark of the alleyway for a moment, casing the two dozen mewling children of varying age, considering his options.

His eyes gaze settled on Rufio, the teenage leader of the pack. I need an in. He has an in. He’s a fighter, and he’s got a bone to pick with the guy stealing his people.

Oh god, I’m considering working with a teen. Kill me now.

Rather than off himself as was appropriate, Jeb followed the wandering horde of children until they mostly ran out of gas. Some of them still shouted for Nancy, while others wrapped their arms around their legs and curled up like pill bugs, weeping into the unfeeling asphalt.

Their leader had pulled ahead of the rest of them, calling out the girl’s name incessantly, his voice hoarse from overuse.

Now’s a good opportunity, Jeb thought to himself, spooling out a strand of Myst and extending it out to where Rufio was staring blankly at the side of a building. With a little bit of effort, Jeb formed the string of glowing orange myst into some respectably legible writing, slipping it out onto the road.

Shut up.

You and me are going to have a talk.

Come into the alley.

Rufio’s eyes scanned the invisible message, then tracked over to where Jeb was pulling the unspent Myst back into his core.

From this distance, Jeb probably looked like…well, like an older dude stalking children through the dark streets of L.A. after dark, looming in an alley.

In essence: not good.

Jeb crooked his finger, grinning evilly to the grieving teen.

This’ll determine if this is the kind of kid I can use.

If he screamed for his friends, he was a little too smart to use. If he believed Jeb right off the bat, he was too dumb.

Ideally, Rufio would come alone, take nothing at face value, then try to kill Jeb. That was the kind of bloodhound Jeb needed. Rufio glanced back at his friends, squared his shoulders, and marched toward the alley, his expression grim.

Okay, so he’s not too smart. Let’s see if he’s too dumb.

“What do you want, pops?” He asked, raising his chin at Jeb arrogantly in a ‘punch me here’ kinda way. God I hate kids, because they all inevitably become teens.

“Before we begin,” Jeb said, choosing his threats carefully. “If you repeat what I’m about to tell you to anyone before it becomes common knowledge, I will literally give you a caning.” Jeb clicked his cane against the ground for emphasis.

He meant it, too.

Rufio crossed his arms.

“Spill.”

“I’m hunting the guy who took Nancy. I want your help flushing him out.” Jeb said.

“How the fuck do you know about Nancy?” Rufio bristled.

“Because you’re walking down the street shouting her name!” Jeb hissed. “Look, my plan involves housing you guys somewhere safe to flush the guy out, direct his attention towards me.”

“’Somewhere safe,’ huh?” Rufio asked.

“View this objectively. You kids represent a large pool of free power to some morally bankrupt cocksucker. If we remove your kids from circulation, he’s gotta make a move if he wants the gravy train to keep running.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“It’s my job.” Jeb shrugged.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Well, all you have to do is give me custody of your friends here, and send any more you find my way. Simple.”

“How do I know you’re not the one that took Nancy?” Rufio demanded, whipping his pistol out and pointing it at Jeb’s forehead. Jeb extended a strand of Myst out his foot, through the ground and snuck it up behind Rufio.

“You were there when he said her name. You were standing right there. Were you watching us?”

Passing marks.

“You’ve never seen me before then, have you?” Jeb said, slowly raising his hands. “I just arrived in town. Ask around.”

“You expect me to believe anyone is interested in helping us?” the teen demanded, the gun shaking in his hands as he psyched himself up to commit murder. “No, you gotta be the guy. You killed Nancy.”

“Well, if that’s what you believe, pull the trigger,” Jeb said, reaching a tendril of Myst up and flicking the safety on.

Rufio’s eyes narrowed, and he squeezed the trigger.

Predictably, nothing happened.

The next couple seconds were a blur of motion.

Rufio dropped the gun, stretching out his left hand and reaching for a pebble with his right. Green Myst gathered in his left palm.

Jeb whipped out his barrier wand and flooded it with Myst while pulling it from one side to the other like closing a curtain.

The pearlescent Wand of Flowing Barriers created what appeared at first to be a massive soap bubble. Take a giant wobbly bubble made by a huge bubblemaker, flatten it a bit and give it the ability to harden into a tough resinous substance, and you’ve got the idea.

The thin wobbly film turned from pearlescent to a hard sheen as it cured a fraction of a second before a blast of Myst-slime scattered off its surface.

Rufio snatched a pebble off the ground and whipped it forward with the tips of his fingers.

The tiny bit of rock smashed into the resinous substance between them, creating a trumpet-shaped deformation in the wall as its energy was stolen by the semi-stretchy material. It was a bit like watching ballistics gel stop a bullet.

The gun clattered to the ground, and Rufio threw three more rocks, stretching the wall until it began to turn pearlescent again from the strain.

Better leave soon, Jeb thought, reaching into his pocket with his free hand.

Jeb took out a notepad and scratched down the address of his mansion.

“Come visit us sometime. We can talk about how you can help me catch the guy. And remember, if you tell others about me before they already know, I will beat you.”

He stuck the note to the tacky wall of clear magical resin and began clomping away. The wall was starting to degrade along the edges already, and Jeb didn’t wanna go for round two until the kid had a chance to calm down.

Rufio didn’t chase him, just stood there at the edge of the alley, fists clenched tight.

Jeb clomped his way back to his home in the dark of night, keeping his head on a swivel for teens with misguided anger and robbers who were just plain hungry. He wasn’t able to relax until he set foot inside the mansion.

Jeb hung his overcoat on the rack and stomped his way to the kitchen, where he was pleased to discover Mrs. Lang making sandwiches, making them half a dozen at a time with a practiced hand.

Jeb melted into the stool on the other side of the bar, listening to the pounding of hammer and nail, sawing and general boisterous atmosphere of the janitors and handymen fixing the holes in the staircase.

“I smell paint. Where did we get paint?”

“The boys took your jeep and raided a Home Depot.” The matronly old woman said, passing Jeb a sammich.

“Nice.” Jeb took a bite. “Free is good.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” She took a second glance at Jeb’s haggard expression. Long day?”

“Eh,” Jeb said with a shrug. “Bit of a mixed bag. A bunch of people threw me out of their shops for being human, almost got robbed, a kid tried to kill me a couple times, I met a friend from the Tutorial, oh, and I found out a little girl got killed this evening by the guy I’m looking for.”

Mrs. Lang’s hand froze, knife seized tight in her trembling fingers.

“You’re going to kill him…right?”

“That’s the plan, Mrs. Lang.”

“Good.” Her knife resumed spreading the homemade mayo.

Jeb finished his food and checked in on Eddie.

The first thing he noticed was the generator running outside the old man’s man-cave. It was rather quiet, with what looked like a series of mufflers welded to the exhaust and an extra-large tank. Deeper inside, the old man had an extension cord leading from the generator connected to several electrical goodies, namely a computer and what looked like an extra fancy 3D printer. On the floor was a smorgasbord of engines, motors, bits and pieces of electrical components that Jeb couldn’t even hope to name.

In the corner was a bomb-defusing bot with all its armor stripped away.

The old man was drafting something on the computer, his bifocals slipped down the bridge of his nose as he leaned in closer than strictly necessary and muttered to himself.

“How’s it going?”

“Completely breaking the laws of physics, that’s how it’s going.” He pointed at the myst Engine in the center of the room, feeding a trickle of myst through Jeb’s regulator and into the gasoline lens, which trickled liquid fuel into a receiver which in turn pumped into the generator’s tank, supplying the entire mansion with power.

“Are you telling me you can see the Myst being used by that thing?”

Jeb glanced at the whirling vortex of pale Myst being drawn into the tiny hole at the top of the engine.

“Yup.”

“How can it behave like a vapor, then a light ray!?” Eddie clutched his head and winced for a moment. “Nevermind. I gotta get those levels. Buddy will be done in a day or so, then we’ll see if you’re pulling my leg.”

“Did you make the thing I asked you for?” Jeb asked.

“Right over there.” Eddie said, waving his hand toward the bench dismissively, his gaze sliding back to the drafting program. “Now shut up.”

“Motherfucker!” Eddie growled when an error message popped up.

“Where did you get the printer?” Jeb asked, picking up the length of steel. It didn’t look like one of the household 3D printer’s he’d seen in the past. It was big and industrial looking with welded plating, and exposed guts twitching as the arm moved around..

“I stole it from Chuck’s house.”

“Who’s Chuck?”

“He was my nemesis. He’s dead now, and I know he would’ve hated to see me using his baby.” Eddie cackled.

“Well, you look like you’ve got everything well in hand.”

Eddie grunted.

Jeb left his technician alone and went to the room close to the stairs that he’d claimed for himself, passing by the men painting the walls with a nod.

Jeb entered his room and closed the door behind him, sitting down on the bed and staring at the wall.

Well, I guess we’re doing this.

Jeb glanced down at the metal rod in his hand. It was a length of steel, about a foot long, with a wicked bladed hook on the end. The hook itself was tiny, about half an inch from end to end.

The reason being…

Jeb slipped the Appraiser off his finger and put the hook through it. Holding the two objects with both hands, Jeb began to awkwardly probe around his scalp.

Tap, tap, tap, the side of the hook bumped against his skin…until it hit something that wasn’t Jeb.

There you are, you little bastard.