Showtime Showdown (Reversed Story, BATIM + SB)

Chapt. 3 |☆| Part 1 - Dreams of the Past

Adrenaline is one hell of a thing.

You can think one moment that you're just stressed, entirely in your own mind, and the next you're unconscious on a cold wooden floor with hands shaking you.

And the next, you're...
...not.. awake.

When Henry opened his eyes, he wasn't greeted with the sepia-toned studio, but a familiar desk;
Half-finished artworks lay strewn about, a cutout of a familiar devil darling standing against a wall.

With a deep breath, he sat for a moment, before lifting himself off the chair with a grunt.

Looking to the side, there was no 'extra room' with more desks, and- stepping out into the entry room- everything was pristine.

Almost eerily so.

It was like it hadn't changed since he'd left.

The only difference he found was that, instead of the usual bustling and life, the only noteworthy sound was the scribble of a pencil on a pad of paper.

And the only person present was a very particular man.

Joey Drew had always been a looker in his younger years, he took a lot of pride in keeping up appearances.

Well-dressed, with a button-up that he'd rolled up the sleeves of and those matching vest and pants he'd always proudly strode around in;
he'd scratched the back of his head with the back end of the pencil he was holding, perking up when Henry spoke.

"...Joey?"
"Henry! Old pal," chimed the man, turning to look with a smile on his face. "You're in quite the pickle right now, aren't you?"

"Joey, what's going on?"
"Well, I'd tell you if I knew!" He chuckled, shrugging with a bit too much cheer as he checked his watch. "I'm a Figment, after all."

"A.. figment?"
"Your imagination, Henry!" He chimed, tapping the side of his head with the pencil as he gestured with the hand holding a notepad.

Among the pages were doodles of things all too familiar by this point.
Bandit, Bendy and Boris, 'Sammy', that.. thing..

"That imagination is what brought this place to life in the first place, and now, it's brought all this back to the surface of your mind, hasn't it?"

Henry furrowed his brow, exhaling and looking around as Joey moved to set the sketchpad down.

"...Between me and you, old pal, your puppet friend doesn't seem like he came from here."
"I.. noticed that." He awkwardly responded as Joey moved back to the sign, climbing to sit on the railing in front of it.

"Well, you know what it means, right?"
"There's more 'you's out there, and I need to get ready to go to another planet?"
"I- Henry!" The man blurted, getting a laugh from Henry as his ears flushed red. "You are so incredibly rude, you know that?"

He cleared his throat, crossing his arms as Henry's laughter died down. "Hoho-hooo, sorry, It feels like I've wanted to say something like that for.. years."
"Apology considered!" Joey responded, puffing out his chest.

"Aanyways," he started, relaxing once again as Henry went back to his serious expression. "This means there's gotta be some reason that puppet boy's here!

I know you probably already planned to, but do your pal a favor and keep your eyes peeled, alright?"
"...Sure, but- Why do you care so much?"

Joey checked his watch, eyes widening.
"Oh! Look at the time."
"Joey."
"You're gonna be waking up right about..." "Joey, I asked a questio-" "Now!"

|----|

H

enry's eyes snapped open.

With a sigh that was a mixture of frustration, exhaustion and general dread, he allowed his eyes to focus before shifting to sit upright.

Henry was on a cot, in a room.
One with a hammock just off to the side above a trunk, an unoccupied little nest of blankets beside it in the empty space.

Looking at the cot he'd been left on, Henry was pleasantly surprised that his legs didn't give out as he stood up off of it, body still heavy and sluggish.

But, well.. he couldn't just lounge here forever.

Henry needed to get ready, and get out of here.