Day 156

[from Murder by Pixels]

As soon as Sapphire heard the news, her eyes lit up like fireworks. Hurriedly snatching up her phone, she selected Jesse's name from her contact list and put it to her ear, impatiently waiting for her to pick up.

When Jesse finally did answer, it sounded as though they had just woken up. "Hello?"

"Jesse! Jesse!" Sapphire's voice was filled with an uncharacteristic excitement, her Irish accent blossoming forth as it always did when she got emotional. "Have you heard the news?!"

"No, what is it?" asked Jesse. "I haven't heard you this excited since…" There was a brief pause, as Jesse began to realize what Sapphire was talking about. "Wait, don't tell me-"

"Yeah!" exclaimed Sapphire. "The Supreme Court just ruled! Gay marriage is legal in all fifty states!"

There was a stunned silence on the other side of the phone as Jesse took in the news. When they spoke again, they were still noticeably tired, but also unmistakeably happy. "It's about time," they said. "It's not gonna solve all our problems, but it's a big step, that's for sure."

"I know!" said Sapphire. "First my country of ancestry, and now my country of birth… oh, I'm so happy, Jesse! I'm so happy I could cry!"

"Need a shoulder to cry on?" asked Jesse. "If my dad finds out about the ruling, then I might wanna get out of the house for a while anyway."

Sapphire nodded. "Sure," she said. "Come right over. We could celebrate with an Orange is the New Black marathon or something."

"I thought you'd prefer Steven Universe," Jesse remarked.

"Oh yeah, good idea," said Sapphire. "We'll watch that instead, then."

"I'll be right over," said Jesse. "I'll call you back when I'm outside, okay?"

Sapphire nodded. "Okay," she said. "See you soon."

"See you," said Jesse, before hanging up.

Sapphire put down the phone and leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. It was certainly true that this wasn't going to end discrimination - there would certainly be plenty of people resenting the decision - but in terms of equal rights, it was a massive step forward. I'm glad I lived to see this day, thought Sapphire.

***

[from Project Nero]

Summer was relaxing and watching TV when her phone suddenly vibrated on the table in front of her, heralding a text message. Picking it up, she unlocked it and saw that Melody had sent her the following message: "WE DID IT! Gay marriage now legal in Vale :D #LoveWins"

Summer smiled, and quickly fired off a reply: "Nice. So, fancy getting married next weekend? I'm free if you are~ xxx" When Melody did not respond, Summer realized she'd gone a bit too far and quickly fired off another: "Relax, I was just joking. I know you don't go that way. Still, that's pretty great news, huh?"

Summer could almost hear the little sigh of relief coming from Melody, as the girl finally responded. "I thought you were joking :3c", she replied. "But yeah, it's fantastic news. Everyone I know is happy to hear it."

"I'm sure they are," Summer replied. "I'm happy to hear it as well. It's about damn time."

"It really is ^_^" Melody texted back.

***

[from Aishiteru! Hikikomori-san]

"Hey, Yuuichi, you hear?"

"Hear what?" asked Yuuichi.

"United States legalize gay marriage," said Ilana. "Gay people can get married there now."

"Yeah, I heard about that hours ago," said Yuuichi. "It's all over Chirper and Nicebook."

"Oh," said Ilana. "I wonder if Katarina hear about news, wherever she is… I sure she be happy to hear it."

"Not really," said Yuuichi. "Not when it's still illegal in her own country. Hell, it's still illegal here."

"It is?" asked Ilana, surprised. "Why?"

"I dunno," said Yuuichi, shrugging his shoulders. "Guess this country's still a bit old-fashioned, in some ways."

"Maybe," said Ilana. "Is better than Russia, though, in many ways."

"Sure is," said Yuuichi. "Who knows, maybe we'll be next."

"Maybe," said Ilana.

***

[from Striker Man]

"Gay marriage is legal in America? Hah, took them long enough," said Striker Man. "We've had that here in Britain for years."

"You're the fifth person in this post to say that it's "taken them long enough"," said The Genius. "I think the writer has made his point clear by now, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, but I think what he wants is to show just how much the decision means to the LGBT community," said Striker Man.

"We're not lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender, though," said The Genius. "We're stick figures, we have no concept of sexuality."

"Doesn't that make us asexual, which still comes under LGBT?" asked Striker Man.

This threw The Genius for a loop. "...you know, I can't argue with that," she said.

"Can I marry this pickle jar now, then?" asked Stuporwoman excitedly, holding up a jar of pickles.

"No, Stuporwoman," said Striker Man, "you can't marry a jar of pickles."

"Why not?" asked Stuporwoman.

"Because a jar of pickles is an inanimate object, and you can't marry inanimate objects," said Striker Man.

"Why not?" asked Stuporwoman.

"Because... uhh... damn, this is harder than I thought," said Striker Man.

Luckily, The Genius picked up the slack. "You cannot marry an inanimate object," she said, "because an inanimate object cannot love you back. Would you not want a partner that can love you back?"

"It does love me back!" said Stuporwoman. "It loves me back with flavour!"

"How can someone so stupid make such valid points?!" remarked Striker Man.

"I think the same about you sometimes," said The Genius.

"Disclaimer: the author does not condone, nor promote, the idea of marriage between humans and inanimate objects," said Striker Man. "In fact, I don't even know why he brought this whole discussion up, to be honest." Stuporwoman represents the crazies who think same-sex marriage is a slippery slope, and that next you'll be able to marry your dog, or your brother, or a helicopter, or an ice cream cone. "Ah, I see."

"...so can I-" You can't marry a pickle jar, Stuporwoman, end of story. "Awww." You can marry someone who likes pickles, and eat pickles together with them, though. "Ooh, that sounds even better! Okay, I'll do that then!" Good for you.

Day 139

[from Striker Man]

"Well, this is going to make retrieving the treasure a whole lot more difficult," remarked Striker Man, looking up at the ghostly figure hovering above them.

"The treasure?" repeated Faruk, amused. "Ha! You can take it! Riches will mean nothing once I rule this world once more!"

"Wait, really?" said Striker Man. "You don't care about all this treasure?"

"Of course not!" said Faruk. "Who needs gold and diamonds when you rule the whole world? I just had these trinkets put in my tomb in order to lure adventurers like you here, so that one day I would finally be released to- are you listening?"

Striker Man was not listening. Instead, he was greedily stuffing as much gold into his arms as he could carry. "Something about world domination, whatever, don't care," said Striker Man. "You did bring a bag for all this gold, didn't you, Genius?"

"It's The Genius," said The Genius, opening her suitcase to retrieve a large burlap sack. "And sincerely, I am perturbed by the abrupt manifestation of this maleficent apparition."

"I don't see any Disney villains anywhere," said Striker Man, looking over his shoulder.

"No, I mean, should we not be concerned about that floating figure talking about taking over the world?" asked The Genius.

"Who cares?" said Striker Man. "We're rich!"

"You are mindful that this work requires some level of narrative conflict, are you not?" asked The Genius. "Stuporwoman, are you eating the treasure?!"

"It tastes like Switzerland," said Stuporwoman, before burping up a six of diamonds that now had six actual diamonds embedded in it.

"I thought narrative conflict meant arguing with the narrator," said Striker Man. No, Striker Man, it doesn't. "Yeah, like that," said Striker Man. No, Striker Man, you can't make a plot around arguing with the narrator. "But-" Yes, I know, Looney Tunes already did it, but- "Wait, how did you know what I was going to say?" Because I'm the narrator. "I thought you were making it up as you went along?"

"Who is he talking to?" asked Faruk, as me and Striker Man continued to argue.

"Striker Man and I," corrected Striker Man, just before a portion of the ceiling collapsed on him. "Hey, you did that on purpose!"

"Ignore him," said The Genius. "He and my other colleague both have serious cognitive deficiencies." She waved a hand at Stuporwoman, who was gnawing on a particularly large ruby and seemed confused as to why she couldn't bite it in half.

"Serious cognitive what?" repeated Faruk.

"Basically, they're both idiots," said The Genius.

"I see," said Faruk. "So, are you three going to oppose my new world order, or not?"

"We will oppose," said The Genius.

"Really, I'm not that fussed," said Striker Man.

"Will there be squirrels in the new world order?" asked Stuporwoman.

"Of course not," said Faruk. "There is no place in my new world order for mere lower life forms."

"Then I propose!" said Stuporwoman.

"Oppose," corrected The Genius.

"No," said Stuporwoman, looking confused. "I wanna fight him, not marry him."

"Well, I guess I'm outvoted, then," said Striker Man. "Fighting it is. We're still stealing the treasure, though, right?"

"Of course," said The Genius.

"In that case," said Faruk, "you will all perish here!"

Faruk raised his hand, and began to fire purple bolts of energy at the three adventurers. Of course, none of them hit, because there wouldn't be a story if they all just suddenly died. Taking advantage of this, Striker Man began shovelling as much treasure as he possibly could into the sack. "We'd better get out of here quickly," he said. "We can always come back for the rest later."

"Excellent idea," said The Genius. "Let us depart for now, and recrudesce subsequently."

"I thought we were leaving and coming back later?" said Striker Man.

"We are!" said The Genius! "Come on, Stuporwoman, stop eating. You will get a stomach ache."

 "No I won't," said Stuporwoman, before swallowing an entire gold bar.

***

"Ohhh… stomach hurts…"

As the trio sprinted back out of the pyramid, Striker Man carrying a heaving sack of treasure on his shoulder, Stuporwoman suddenly doubled over, clutching her abdomen.

"I told you not to eat all that treasure!" said The Genius.

"How can she even get stomach ache when we don't have stomachs?" asked Striker Man.

"That doesn't matter now," said The Genius. "We must egress post-haste. Fortunately, I came prepared as always." Reaching into her briefcase, The Genius pulled out a helicopter - yes, an actual full-sized helicopter - and set it down on the ground. The three clambered inside, shutting the door just as an energy bolt from Faruk ricocheted off the hull. The evil spirit had now caught up with them.

"Do you know how to fly this thing, The Genius?" asked Striker Man.

"Of course I do!" said The Genius. "Would I have brought a helicopter unless I knew how to fly one?"

The helicopter's rotors began to spin, gradually picking up speed until the machine lifted off from the ground. Faruk, who had never seen such a contraption before, merely looked on in surprise, allowing the trio to fly away unscathed. "Phew, that was close," said Striker Man. "Now then, how much money do you think all this treasure is worth?"

"I thought we were prioritizing the defeat of that evil pharaoh?" asked The Genius.

"I know, I'm just asking," said Striker Man.

"I think it's thiiiis many!" said Stuporwoman, holding her arms a little way apart.

"That's not much," said Striker Man. "Also, aren't you still sick?"

"Oh yeah," said Stuporwoman, before clutching her abdomen and moaning.

"I think first we should get her to a hospital, to get those jewels out of her," said The Genius. "Then we should plan some kind of counterattack."

"Sure, but can we do that later?" asked Striker Man. "The writer's hands are starting to hurt. What a wimp." And then the helicopter blew up. "Wait, what?" Just kidding.

Day 115

[from Striker Man]

"You think Ryan's done with his exams yet?" asked Striker Man. "It's been seven weeks now." In that time, Striker Man and friends had been stuck in the temple, unable to proceed with the storyline without the narrator present. Striker Man was currently sitting on a swinging pendulum of doom, casually reading Steven Gerrard's autobiography - "I like the part where he doesn't win the Premier League" - while The Genius was attempting to play poker with Stuporwoman. The key word in that sentence is "attempting".

"Three nines," said The Genius, laying her hand out on the table. "What do you possess, Stuporwoman?"

Stuporwoman took one look at the cards in her hand, and then ate them all. "I'm hungry," she said.

"Why do I even endeavour…" muttered The Genius. "Nevertheless, now that the narrator is present, we can advance."

"Can it wait a minute?" asked Striker Man. "I've just gotten to the part where Stevie G doesn't win the Premier League."

"You're the one who was complaining for two score and eleven days that we were impuissant to advance due to the narrator's nonattendance!" complained The Genius. "And you've been making those Steven Gerrard jokes for an entire month now! It is not amusing!"

"Someone's a Liverpool fan~" said Striker Man jokingly.

The Genius sighed, but otherwise ignored him. "Let's just get going," she said. "Come on, Stuporwoman."

Stuporwoman gobbled up the rest of the playing cards, then followed The Genius as the two stick figures headed further down the dimly-lit sandstone passageway. Striker Man, realizing they really were going to leave him behind, quickly scrambled off of the swinging axe and followed them, stowing his Steven Gerrard book away in that strange hammerspace that all stick figured were apparently able to access.

"How much further do you think this goes?" asked Striker Man.

"Probably a substantial distance," The Genius replied.

"We'd better press on, then," said Striker Man, "so we can get to the end before the narrator stops writing again for another six weeks."

Stuporwoman suddenly burped, regurgitating a playing card that she then snatched out of the air. It was the ace of spades. "Is this your card?" she asked, showing it to Striker Man.

"How do you keep doing that?" asked the incredulous stick figure.

"Doing what?" asked Stuporwoman, shortly before burping up the queen of diamonds.

Suddenly there was a loud clunk, as The Genius stepped on a loose floor tile. "Watch out!" she cried out. A second later, a hail of poisoned arrows began firing at the group from every direction. Of course, with the trio being mere stick figures, not a single arrow struck them, and the arrows clattered harmlessly to the floor. "Well, that was a pointless trap," remarked The Genius.

"I'd say it had rather a lot of points," quipped Striker Man. The Genius groaned at the terrible pun, and the three continued on their way.

After a few more minutes of walking and mild peril, including Striker Man almost falling down into a pit of spikes, the trio finally came across a heavy stone door. "This has gotta be the entrance to the treasure room!" said Striker Man.

"If so, then there will most likely be some manner of ambuscade ready to ensnare us," said The Genius.

"I don't think ambulances count as treasure," said Striker Man, a little confused.

"Ambuscades!" insisted The Genius. "It means traps! Opening this door will set off some kind of trap! I explained this to you in the previous instalment!"

"Oh yeah, so you did," said Striker Man. "I guess the narrator must have forgotten. Doesn't matter, the audience probably will have forgotten as well."

"Well, anyway," said The Genius, "we should be very careful when opening this-"

SLAM. Before the other two could react, Stuporwoman had rushed forward and charged into the door, knocking it down. The stone slab landed on the floor with an almighty crash, opening the doorway to the treasure room. In spite of The Genius' warnings, nothing else happened, except for a dizzy Stuporwoman staggering backwards and then vomiting up a straight flush. Striker Man poked his head inside the treasure room and quickly let out a gasp.

Inside the treasure room were numerous gigantic piles of gold coins, some of them stacked as high as the ceiling. There were other riches too: mounds of silver, heaps of precious gems, mountains of jewellery. And under the laws of finders-keepers, it was all theirs.

"Loot at all this- I mean, look at all this loot!" exclaimed Striker Man. "There's enough here for The Gaffer to turn our club into the next Barcelona! Heck, we could even buy Barcelona with all this loot! We could buy the entire league!"

"Or fund the cure for cancer!" suggested The Genius.

"Or buy lots and lots of pickles!" suggested Stuporwoman.

"Or we could just keep it all to ourselves," suggested Striker Man, prompting glares from the other two.

"Well, first we must retrieve it from within these catacombs," said The Genius. "Let the plundering commence!"

"Yeah," said Striker Man, "and let's start taking the loot while we're at it."

The three of them made their way into the treasure room. Still there were no traps going off. "I don't like it," said Striker Man. "It's too quiet."

"I'll take care of that!" said Stuporwoman, and with that she started spontaneously beat-boxing.

"That wasn't really what I had in mind," remarked Striker Man, "but thanks anyway."

Striker Man came to a halt in front of a particularly large pile of gold. "I think I'll start with this pile!" he said. "This will be our new 100,000 seater football ground, complete with golden lavatories, golden labradors, and a fifty-foot statue of Maxim Tsigalko! Made entirely out of gold, of course. Now, come to Striker Man…"

Striker Man reached out for the gold, but the moment his hand touched the pile, the entire room suddenly started to tremble ominously, the coins on the pile jittering and teetering. "What did you do?" asked The Genius wearily.

"I didn't do anything-" said Striker Man.

"FREE!" bellowed a voice that came from seemingly nowhere. "AT LONG LAST, I AM FREE!"

"I hope that's a genie, come to give us three wishes," said Striker Man.

"Ooh! Ooh! I wish for pickles!" said Stuporwoman excitedly.

Sadly, it was not a genie. Instead, from out of the enormous pile of coins came a ghostly-white stick figure with a long purple cape that fluttered out behind him despite the lack of wind. His eyes were completely red, and glowed faintly in the dim light of the treasure room. "I AM FREE!" proclaimed the figure. "NOW THAT I HAVE RETURNED TO THIS WORLD, I, FARUK AL-FARUK, WILL SET ABOUT CONQUERING IT AS I DID THREE-THOUSAND YEARS AGO!"

As Striker Man and The Genius looked on in horror, an oblivious Stuporwoman asked, "Do I still get my three wishes?"

Day 84

[from Striker Man]

"Hey, it's only been twelve days? That was fast. The author must be running out of ideas. Oh, and I'm already at the pyramid, that's cool."

Striker Man was indeed outside the Pyramid of Faruk al-Faruk, whose riches he had been tasked with plundering in order to save his football club from bankruptcy. He had enlisted the help of his two best friends, each of whom had unique skills, to make the job that much easier.

The first, Stuporwoman, was Striker Man's oldest friend. Not that she was that old. How can you tell the age of a stick figure anyway? In any case, Stuporwoman was agile and a surprisingly good fighter, but had an IQ of about -17. Right now, for example, she was facing in completely the wrong direction, oblivious to the enormous pyramid right in front of the trio.

The second of Striker Man's friends was significantly more intelligent than not just her friends, but almost everyone else in the entire world. Her name was The Genius, and she was currently staring at the pyramid with interest, adjusting her glasses with one hand while holding a briefcase full of science things in her other hand.

"This is unequivocally a most enthralling discovery," she said, her speech as bafflingly verbose as ever. "An Ancient Egyptian pyramid in the middle of Sussex… how phenomenally anachronistic."

"A what?" asked Striker Man.

"It's a very interesting find," The Genius clarified, forcing herself to dumb down her speech.

"It is," said Striker Man. "How much treasure do you reckon there is inside?"

"Unquestionably, its worth is practically incalculable," said The Genius.

"And is that enough to pay off my club's debts?" asked Striker Man.

"Yes," said The Genius simply.

"Alright," said Striker Man. "So, how do we get inside? That's a big stone door there, and I don't see any handles or buttons or anything." He pointed at the pyramid's entrance, which was sealed off by an enormous sandstone slab.

"Be not apprehensive, Striker Man," said The Genius. "I have made preparations." She set down her suitcase and opened it. Inside were numerous stoppered flasks, more than such a case could conceivably contain, each one half-filled with liquids of various different colours and consistencies. These were The Genius' concoctions, and she carried one for almost any possible situation, including, for example, if one wishes to melt through a large sandstone door.

The Genius pulled out a long test tube full of bubbling purple liquid, and another full of pale blue liquid, and advanced towards the door. Pulling out the stopper, she threw the contents of the test tube over the stone slab, and in an instant it began to dissolve. Within moments, the only trace of the door was a caustic purple puddle on the floor. The Genius poured the pale blue liquid on top of this puddle, and the acid was swiftly neutralized and became no more dangerous than a puddle. "One can still drown in four inches of-" I meant a shallow puddle. And stop breaking the fourth wall, you guys! "My apologies."

"Nice going, Genius!" said Striker Man, possibly the first time this sentence had been said non-sarcastically. "Alright, let's get inside and-"

"Not so fast," said The Genius. "The passageways will almost inevitably be brimming with pitfalls and ambuscades."

"Well, that's convenient," said Striker Man. "If we fall into any of the pitfalls, we can get to hospital quickly."

"Ambuscades, not ambulances," said The Genius. "It means traps."

"So the ambulances are traps?" said Striker Man.

The Genius sighed and facepalmed. "Let's just get inside and misappropriate the riches within," she said. Taking out another stoppered flask, this one filled with luminous green fluid, The Genius shook it vigorously and it began to glow brightly. Using this to light their way, The Genius entered the dark interior of the pyramid, with Striker Man close behind.

"Come on, Stuporwoman," he said, "we're heading inside now."

Stuporwoman, who had been staring intently in the wrong direction the whole time, suddenly turned to see where the voice had come from and was astounded. "Look, Striker Man!" she exclaimed, pointing at the pyramid. "There's a giant pointy thing over there!"

"We're going inside the pointy thing," said Striker Man dully. "Come on, hurry up."

"Yes, ma'am!" said Stuporwoman. She happily skipped off after Striker Man, and the three friends entered the pyramid in search of the treasure within.

Day 72

[from Striker Man]

"This is nonsense. I'm supposed to be Animatron's mascot, their central character! I'm their oldest creation, after all! Why haven't I gotten a Project 20:15 post yet?"

Uhh, Striker Man-

"StarLight's gotten five posts already! Five! And I haven't gotten a single one! That's totally unfair!"

Striker Man-

"Seriously, if he doesn't start posting about me soon, I'm going on strike, because-"

Striker Man! This is a Project 20:15 post about you. Now could you kindly put the fourth wall back, please? I'd like to get on with the story.

"Oh, right. Sorry about that, Ryan. But seriously, you haven't done anything with me since 2008, what's the deal with that?"

…

"…oh, all right, I'll put the fourth wall back."

Having replaced the fourth wall, Striker Man was suddenly and conveniently interrupted by a call on his cell phone. "Mobile phone!" I told you to put the fourth wall back! "Sorry." Striker Man was interrupted by a call on his mobile phone. He picked it up and answered it. "Hello?"

On the other end was The Gaffer, the manager of his football club, whose name I can't be bothered to think of right now. "Hey, Striker Man," he said. "Listen, could you come to the club for a bit? We've got a bit of a problem and I'd like to discuss it with you."

"Why me, gaffer?" asked Striker Man.

"Because you're the main character," said The Gaffer. "I'll be in my office, waiting for you."

"Okay," said Striker Man. "I'll be there in a jump cut."

***

"You wanted to see me, gaffer?" said Striker Man, as he entered The Gaffer's office.

"Ah, that was quick," said The Gaffer. "Sit down and we'll get started."

Striker Man promptly sat down on the floor. "I meant on the chair," said The Gaffer. Striker Man promptly sat down on the back of the chair opposite The Gaffer. "Alright, now you're just being silly," said The Gaffer. Striker Man promptly sat down normally on the chair, and The Gaffer shuffled a stack of papers and began.

"Okay, so, our club's financial situation has become increasingly perilous," said The Gaffer. "In hindsight, we probably shouldn't have bought all those Brazilian megastars using money we didn't actually have. Or gold-plated all the toilets. Or hired Jamie Oliver to do the catering."

"You shouldn’t have done that anyway, his food is terrible," said Striker Man.

"It's healthy," said The Gaffer.

"Same thing," said Striker Man.

The Gaffer ignored this last comment, because it was stupid. "Anyway, the point is," he said, "we're currently £50 million in debt, and if we don't pay up soon, the debt people are going to come and repossess the stadium and probably break our kneecaps. Luckily, I've found a solution to our problems. Here." He handed Striker Man a print-out of a photo of an ancient pyramid.

"What's this?" asked Striker Man.

"It's a piece of paper," said The Gaffer.

"Yes, but what's on it?" asked Striker Man.

"That's the Pyramid of Faruk al-Faruk," said The Gaffer. "It's an ancient Egyptian pyramid that's said to contain mountains of treasure. Like, literal mountains. Gold and diamonds and all kinds of stuff. It's also conveniently an hour's drive from here."

"What's an ancient Egyptian pyramid doing an hour's drive from Sussex?" asked Striker Man.

"Beats me, but I'm not gonna complain," said The Gaffer, shrugging his shoulders. "Anyway, since you're good at doing action-y stuff, I'd like you to go to the pyramid and plunder it. Steal as much of its riches as you can, and bring them back here to the stadium, so we can use them to pay off our debts. And maybe buy some more Brazilian megastars."

"Why not English megastars?" asked Striker Man.

"English megastars?" repeated The Gaffer, amused. "In football? Yeah, good one."

"Good point," admitted Striker Man. "So, should I go break into that pyramid now, or-?"

"Wait until the next Project 20:15 post," said The Gaffer, "the author's a lazy git and can't be bothered to write that part yet."

"Well, that'll give me plenty of time to prepare, then, since I'll probably be waiting two more months," remarked Striker Man. "By which time he will have written four more posts about StarLight."

"Bloody foreigners, coming over here, stealing our air time," joked The Gaffer.

"You know," said Striker Man, "it's a good thing the author can't hear us, or he'd probably cut us off right about n-"