Year 2 – Shift 6 – Muffin
“Who are you again?” The Golden Wiener stood like a wall of muscle before them, blocking the way into the castle courtyard.
“Tugger MacShlong.” Mark tried hard to smolder, but failed. “And this is my companion, Lady Dixia Pounding. We’re from the Chode Island chapter.”
The Wiener held a long, hard stare. “Helmut Head been a good Head Boy?”
“Before he was eaten by that cow!” Muffin smiled brightly.
“We’ve been under Buster Nutting for a hot minute.” Mark adjusted his signature trucker hat, somehow still persisting through the shifting. This time, it read He’s a 10, but in pesos. “You sure you’re a Wiener, friend? You should know this.”
The man, whose nametag read Rex Chubber, stepped aside and gestured for them to enter. “Let’s go, MacShlong. Men’s barracks are in the north yard.” He pointed toward a large, hotdog-shaped building. “Lady Dixia, I can accompany you to see the king.”
Muffin smiled. “No thanks! I’m gonna go with Tugger.”
Rex stiffened. “The king requires an audience with all female New Meat to register with the Erective Service and be assigned a role.”
Eww.
“Why? I’m already a Lubetenant.” Muffin giggled, leaned forward, and tapped his nametag. “Private First Ass.”
Rex flushed and went silent. He stepped back and gestured for them to enter.
Mark went through first and into the large, mostly empty courtyard. Muffin fluttered after him.
“You should have taken the chance to get next to the king!” Mark said.
“What would I have done, Mark?” Muffin scanned the tops of the walls and roofs. “Our job is to find out what they know about us.”
“I think we can get in over here.” Mark ducked into an alley before they reached the barracks. “The Head Boy will have what we need.”
Muffin looked through the maze of alleys between the elite guards’ housing, trying to find anything that stood out. “This place looks kind of abandoned.”
“I know.” Mark looked around uneasily. “Canonically, the Golden Wieners reproduce asexually, so you rarely see Wienerettes, but this is crazy.”
The houses were run-down, and the small fountain squares were empty, their wells dry.
“What do you mean, canonically?” Muffin asked.
Mark’s aura shifted instantly. “Just…the way they were made.”
Muffin stopped in the center of a dusty fountain square and shook her head. “The way you made them. Why did you make them that way?”
Mark shifted uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his neck, careful not to break his two-inch ketchup-red nails. “Muffin…I…you know what? I don’t know. I thought it was funny. So did Cody and Simone.” He shrugged. “And Sara.”
“But why is that funny?” Muffin asked. “To give them such hard and lonely lives and names that are just absurd? Why?”
Mark sighed. “Because I never thought any of this would happen. I never thought for one second that I would actually meet someone named Throbbert, or even Muffin Top.”
His words hit her chest like a hammer blow. “My…my name? You picked my name?”
Mark shrugged, almost defeated. “No. You and your brother are the exceptions. But I picked the rest of your family’s names.”
Muffin felt dazed. “Mountain?”
“Cody,” Mark said. “An off-the-wall comment that turned into a recurring meme. He’s actually an actor and strongman from our world, famous for playing a character named ‘The Mountain.’”
It was hard to knock the spirit from Muffin’s sails, but this storm was close. “Me? Muffin?”
Mark sighed and shrugged. “Muffin…”
“Tell me, Mark.” Muffin folded her arms over her chest.
He threw his hands up and shook his head. “Sara. She named you Muffin Top because she loves muffin tops.”
Muffin didn’t know whether she wanted to cry or scream. “I don’t know what that is!”
Mark scoffed. “That’s because I changed the lore for Sara. You know muffin tops as cupcake plugs.”
Muffin’s jaw fell open, and she slapped a hand over her mouth, mortified. “We’re all just jokes to you. How could you?”
“Muffin, I…”
Muffin turned and almost bolted, but stopped. Sara had done so much. She would at least talk to her.
“No. Don’t.” Muffin faced the alley again. “Let’s just get what we came here for.”
“Okay,” Mark said. “It should be in that big one there.”
Muffin followed his finger toward the villa at the end of the street.
“Villa de lo Palpitante y lo Pulsante,” Mark said. “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.”
“Goddammit,” he whispered under his breath as they headed toward it.
“Okay, I got this!” Muffin chirped, pepping herself back up as she floated beside Mark.
Two more steps, and a man emerged from one of the Spanish colonial pueblo-style houses and locked eyes with Muffin. “You there! You’re not allowed back here!”
A quick scan of his uniform showed that his rank was Major Wood, second-highest of the Wieners.
“I’m so sorry!” Muffin fluttered over to him. “I absolutely got lost looking for the king’s chambers!” She reached out and tapped his shoulder playfully. “That private at the gate was no help at all!”
The man considered her, then Mark. “Who’s that?”
“He’s my pet!” Muffin shrugged and pointed down the alley to the right. “This way, right?”
Major Wood blustered in confusion. “Um…yes. Wait. Hold on!”
He left his doorstep and crossed toward them with purpose. He was a solid wall of muscle and grit. He stopped directly in front of them and leveled a hard stare at Mark, then Muffin. His eyes settled uncomfortably low on Muffin’s chest.
“Those sure are some nice honkers.”
Muffin’s brain broke. Her hand rose instinctively to her Twin Goose pin. She searched him for only a second before spotting the fiery-headed bird pin on his lapel.
“Nice Pecker!”
Major Wood stood calmly, examining and weighing her in his mind.
“Someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Mark asked uncomfortably.
“Come with me.” Major Wood gestured toward his home. “Not in the street. There are dicks everywhere.”
Muffin followed without question until Mark tugged her wrist.
She turned toward him. “He’s safe. Trust me.”
“I don’t know anything about this.” Mark scanned the surrounding homes. “This has to be something Craig or the king did.”
Muffin took a moment to contain her irritation and did so flawlessly. “Mark. Do you believe we are people, like you?”
Mark stepped back and shook his head incredulously. “Of course, Muffin! I—”
“Do you know what self-determination is?” Muffin stopped him from JADEing.
Mark froze, baffled. “How do you…”
“We are capable of creating just as much as you, Mark.” Muffin nodded once and smiled. “Now, come with me or stay out here. You have that choice too.”
Muffin turned and followed Major Wood toward his home.
Mark followed.
Once they were inside, Major Wood shut and locked the door. He and Muffin turned toward the very awkward Mark.
“Mark,” Muffin said, “this is a member of an underground union my parents have been part of since we founded the Shart Oubliette.”
“Top family?” Major Wood raised an eyebrow. “We can certainly use your eye, then.”
“Wait.” Mark shook his head. “How many underground labor unions are there in Tawagoto?”
“Three as of now,” Major Wood said. “We’re having a meeting. Come. Having a Top here will be welcome to all.”
He pulled a golden cock sconce, and a hidden door slid open. “It’ll close behind you.”
Major Wood descended the staircase. Muffin and Mark followed him into a room full of men and women.
Conversation stopped.
Everyone in the room glared at the strangers.
“This is—” Major Wood began.
“Hi, everyone!” Muffin cut him off. “I’m Muffin Top of the Shart Oubliette! This is my coworker, Mark!”
The room eased almost immediately.
“A Top? Here?” someone asked.
“Hey!” A woman nudged a large, amply bearded man. “Ain’t the Tops with the resistance now?”
“Yep!” Muffin said freely.
“Muffin!” Mark widened his eyes at her.
“Don’t worry, Mark Guy.” The big, burly Viking-looking man stood and towered over Muffin. Her knees buckled slightly beneath the weight of his massive build. “In this room, you can be a world-class wrestling trainer, a Wiener, a random hot Viking guy, or the creator of the world with a penchant for trying to do bigger and more outlandish things to get your best friend to see you. We aren’t enemies here.”
“Yeah,” Muffin said. “These are the kind of people who raised me when we toured from town to town growing up. These are good people. Family. Even if they’re different factions up there, down here we’re just people.”
Mark looked both ill and proud. “I’ll just watch, if that’s okay.”
“It is,” the random hot Viking dude said. “I’m Jakk Feryll. I oversee this chapter of the UFC. The United Fighters Collective. We’re a group of people whose jobs involve fighting in some form or fashion. Mortimer Meatsword of the Wieners was just sharing with us. Go ahead, Mortimer.”
A young man, maybe in his thirties, stood and continued. “As I was saying, working for Tater Tot is killing me. He’s always demanding, demanding! Like, when are you going to pay more for that extra time away from my family?”
Muffin leaned toward Mark and whispered behind her hand. “We call King Dong Tater Tot because he looks like one.”
Before Mark could process that, Mortimer continued.
“He just cut ten more guards. My shifts have more than doubled. And he’s always nasty. I’m just…” Mortimer stopped for a long moment. “I think I’m done. That’s all. No comments, please.”
Jakk nodded and let the silence settle before turning to Mark. “Why did you come here?”
Mark looked around the room and shrugged. “Why am I here? Because I want information. And because I want to help fix what I caused.”
“You can’t fix us, Mark,” Jakk said.
“I don’t want to fix you,” Mark clarified. “I want to fix the bullshit I caused for all of you. Unfair labor. Abusive practices. A king who randomly destroys thriving towns full of people. I made the world that let this happen. Now I need to do something.”
“You can’t,” one of the Wieners interrupted. “I can’t tell you more, but Tater Tot knows everything. He knows how you run things, and he even knows you sing show tunes in your sleep.”
Mark’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he forced them back down.
He knew something.
“I see,” Mark said. “Thanks for that.”
“Miss Top,” Jakk said, “your family, the Shafted…why did you join the Earthers?”
Muffin beamed. “I can’t speak for everyone, but I joined because I needed something new. All the bad things in my past…I kept getting the same results because I kept trying the same things in different ways. It never worked. So I tried something different.” She paused. “And it’s working, except for our setback.”
The air in the room grew heavy.
“Were there any…casualties?” the same Wiener asked.
Muffin couldn’t bring herself to answer.
“Twenty-two,” Mark said. “Tater Tot killed twenty-two people. Two were children. Brian and Brunhilda.”
Silence filled the room.
Then a small, lonely voice spoke.
“Can I come and see Etokuso?”
Muffin searched the room until she found a familiar face that lifted her spirits more than any information could.
“Mora! What are you doing here?” Muffin smiled. “Yes! Of course you can!”
Mora stood and pulled her hair back, revealing her honkers pin.
“Because I’m nothing like my dad.”