I've Got the Strangest Feeling This Isn't Our First Time Around

19

"Jesus Christ!" Spike complains, out of breath. "We're not even halfway done moving everything in here! I might have to sell my car to save on rent."

"All of Molly's stuff is in here." Luigi replies. "Apparently she never had any children or family to pass it on to, so I was the next best thing. Which means this is all mine."

"Fantastic." Spike says sarcastically. "On top of all the shit we just brought in here from our old apartment."

Luigi starts to walk away, but Spike stops him.

"Hang on! You're not even just a little intrigued by what might be lurking around here?"

"Moving in here was your idea." Luigi reminds him.

"Because she had a connection to your parents!" Spike says. "And who knows? She might have something valuable in here you can pawn off."

But at Luigi's glare, Spike backpedals, "Sorry, did I say pawn off? I meant show off!"

He opens one box, and sees, "Look at all these pictures!", then hands them to Luigi, before going into another one and gasping.

"Luigi, do you even know what's in here???"

"A nosy roommate I'm a second away from evicting?"

"You got yourselves a record player!" Spike says excitedly. "Super classy."

"And old fashioned." Luigi quips.

"Let's put it together!" Spike gets an idea. "Why not? Now I'd have something to play all my parent's records on!"

Luigi pays him no mind, too busy flipping through the pictures, until he stops cold.

"What the hell." Luigi says, voice gone cold.

"What what?" Spike comes over to take a look.

"That's Molly, with me. But someone ripped out is holding me, not her."

"Weird."

"Weirder: who was it, and why?" Luigi wonders, flipping it over.

Wake up.

"Any ideas about this?" Luigi barges into Snoozemore's office, slapping a photo on his desk.

"So you've started going through your foster mother's things." Snoozemore notes.

"My things." Luigi reminds him. "Who's holding me in this picture?"

"Your parents helped develop the dream lab's technology into what it is today. Molly was an old friend."

"How old?"

"As long as I've known them." Snoozemore replies.

"What do the words on the back mean?" Luigi flips it over. "Wake up?"

"I wouldn't know." Snoozemore says.

"Isn't that convenient?" Luigi snarks. "When I don't want to know anything, you force it down my throat. When I do, you're suddenly radio silent."

"Mm, no. What do I have to gain by lying to you?" Snoozemore asks.

"Off the top of my head? 3." Luigi says, counting them off. "One, you know more about me than Molly ever did, and for some reason you want me to stay dumb to that. Two, you think I'm so fragile I can't handle whatever it is you know. Or three, you actually don't know anything, and just want me to think you do so I'll keep working here."

"You missed one." Snoozemore replies. "I decide when and how I divulge information, and if you or anyone else in this lab deserves to know what that entails."

"Fine. Four things to gain." Luigi replies smoothly.

"You think you just hit it out of the park, don't you?" Snoozemore crosses his arms. "Tell me when you find out if it's a home run or a foul ball."

In reply, Luigi flips over the photograph again. "Someone was ripped out of this photograph of me and Molly. Who?"

"Typically when someone is ripped out of something, it means whoever ripped it was trying to cut off all ties." Snoozemore attempts to hand Luigi back the photograph.

"Oh, no need. I got it right here." Luigi taps his temple, then walks out.

"There you are!" Mario hands Luigi a mug right as he walks into the conference room. "Espresso with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles, which can only be called an abomination to espresso?"

"What about Snoozemore?" Luigi asks.

"I don't think he drinks coffee." Mario replies.

"No, not that." Luigi waves it off, "Snoozemore more or less admitted to me he knows more about what we're really doing here."

"That's Snoozemore for you." Mario says, sipping his own coffee. "Doesn't divulge anything, but always finds a way to get it out of all of us."

"Does that mean you two Neanderthals are trying to build that old record player by yourselves?" Pauline asks, inserting herself into the conversation.

"Yes, why?" Spike crosses his arms, then when he sees the way Pauline steals a look at Mario, demands, "What was that for?"

"If you want, me and Mario can come over and take that off your hands for you." Pauline replies.

"Because we're such Neanderthals that can't put together a simple record player and need a woman and college dropout to do it for us?" Luigi scoffs.

Spike coughs, "Asshole."

"Come on, you know I'd never say that to your face." Pauline rolls her eyes. "But this is old school technology that needs a delicate hand. Something you two are in short supply of."

Spike coughs again, "Asshole squared."

"She's not wrong." Mario shrugs.

"Mechanics are all about fixing for functionality, administrators are all about the tiny details that go into vintage technology."

Luigi laughs outright. "Okay, I think you two just became public enemies one and two."

"And to that, I say this." Spike declares.

"My major tackles all different aspects, okay? A tiny record player is a cakewalk."

"Oh yeah?" Pauline says. "So you know that if you put the wrong cartridge in it, it's gonna sound like a dying animal?"

Mario looks at the screen, "Uh oh, looks like we better get ready."

"So when can I come over?" Pauline asks, to which Spike stands up and leaves with Luigi, saying nothing.

"What did I say?" Pauline doesn't get it.

"Paulie, I love you to death, but a smooth talker you are not." Mario says cheekily.

"Are you kidding? My dad thinks I'm an amazing talker!" Pauline protests.

"And thank you for making my point." Mario replies as he walks out as well, Pauline following,

"What is that supposed to mean?"