Fetch Us Our Red Hunting Hats, Everyone Mocks and Wants to Kill Us

[Deblod100]

((Mortimer Schaub continued from Don't Text and Walk))



(OOC: Sprite of Mortimer is made by Fenris)

"So when are they going to start the nukes? It's been too long."

Russell mused, when he was trying to eat some chicken tenders. It was a miracle that Strawberry Letter Pavilion had a Chili's with good quality service than the Applebee's nearby.

Actually, let's pause the VHS tape here.

We must set the scene.

5 young men at a booth. One gap in the seating. Inside of a Chili's with staff (bless their hearts) for being better than the other Chili's in town.

Among the chips and salsa on the table, there was Mortimer eating some Southwestern egg rolls for dinner, though let's talk about these 4 boys who, unaware to themselves because they think everyone around them are NPCs, are actually NPCs. They all have a similarity against Mortimer.

It's easy to guess why.

But let's make this obvious...

[+] I think you know the correct answer here

(OOC: Quality art is made by Yonagoda. Art has been edited by Mortimer's handler with the award-winning digital software known as Microsoft Powerpoint)

Now, let's pull the camera back and focus on these 4 gentlemen.

Starting from left to right, while Mortimer remains in the middle.

On our left, wearing a white dad cap over his short brown hair, a thrift shop shirt featuring the logo of the band Goldfinger, shorts, and flat bottomed Vans shoes, was Oscar. He was munching on half a rack of baby back ribs that came with fries and white cheddar mac and cheese. Oscar comes from Meadowbrook from one of the most aggressively middle class families imaginable. His parents listen to such mainstream taste as Coldplay and Destiny Child, which were a far cry from how Oscar listened to Incubus and Earl Sweatshirt with a dash of skate punk in the mix. His parents were also fans of The Amazing Spider-Man films from 2012 to 2014, considering them better than the original Spider-Man trilogy or the newest one that is part of the MCU. Oscar is a skater boy, who said "See ya later, boy", though for the rat pack, he knows his stuff with God of War. One of his skateboards even had Kratos on the deck. His favorite skate sport is the reservoir at Majestic Park. There is also his interest in werewolves, to which he would deny being a furry.

In truth, he was a furry. But everyone in the squad knows this.

Next up was Louie, who had blond wavy hair, a meek demeanor, and feasting on a Santa Fe salad. A complete social outcast who lived in Meadowbrook, but it might have been due to the fact that his parents are Harry Potter fans in the midst of the 2020's. His mother cosplayed as Harry Potter once. Now, it seemed like they were jumping onto the Wicked craze from last year. The rest of the squad under Mortimer's command had to get him toughen up. Good for them for teaching him to be a sneaky bastard when necessary, but it was a teenager version of street smarts. Mortimer wanted him to not end up as a soyjak or even post soyjaks. Those images were so overbearing and the joke always got old when it came to strawmanning. Morty knew that he was on the spectrum, which could explain his high grades and good GPA for school. Besides bringing a Nintendo Switch to school to play the Legend of Zelda, the squad keeps him around because he knows a little too much on Manhunt and explaining things in great detail about what was in the game.

Then, there was Carl, who had already eaten dinner back at his place and had ordered dessert of a molten chocolate cake. He was dressed up like a wannabe greaser with his slicked back and shaved at its sides black hair and a black leather jacket. It was a complete open secret to everyone at Red Rock that Carl lived in a part of Las Vegas that was much rougher than Skyline Heights. He was said to be living in an area directly by Malone Circle Park, so he knew a lot on what happened over there at night. His father, who was the one to mostly take care of him, voted for President Canon. Both back at 2016 and recently at 2024. Carl's father walked around with a red cap with one of Canon's slogans and lounged at his living room to watch episodes of Jeopardy. He was still better than Carl's mother. Carl hated his mother and his dad did, too. She was a skinny bitch, but she doesn't do a damn thing. She wasn't even employed or wanted to be employed and ironically fit the deadbeat dad trope than Carl's actual father.

Though, his father was kinda racist.

...Well, how racist again?

He was trying to not be racist, since his job threatened to put him in some racial sensitivity class, if he kept up with the micro-aggressions. He really was trying, Carl knew. Though, to be safe since Carl's dad was a major conservative type, he didn't want to mention to his father that he was gay. It will probably be best if he waited until after his senior year. Back to focus directly on Carl, he used to be a part of the anime club, but he hated how it was becoming associated with "weebs" and dropped out to join the rat pack instead. He knows a lot of old school media like Akira and The X-Files, though he enjoyed playing zombie games. Especially Dead Island and its sequel. After he got arrested and sent to juvie one summer, he came out and bragged that being in jail showed how "tough" he was. His friends already know that he was actually arrested for having overdue unpaid parking tickets.

Lastly, probably as Mortimer as Mortimer Schaub himself, you have Russell. He seems harmless with messy dark brown hair and a pair of reading glasses, but he has some trashy taste in true crime. A lot of true crime. Probably one of the first things that Morty heard from Russell's mouth was how he was covering the Gabby Petito case. He lived in Skyline Heights like Mortimer, though he was deemed "unethical" by many. Probably because he likes to use torrent sites by engaging in piracy. It would be like every month for him to send his PC over to the Geek Squad to purge it of viruses. Russell has a shitty ad-blocker, which didn't helped. His parents were still good saints, but even while they were trying, there was still a flawed kid in the mix. His mother was originally from New Jersey, in which she described to be a "cesspool" of a high school. She wanted to learn, but her teachers didn't give a shit. Probably also didn't help that Russell mentioned a story by his mother once that one of her teachers was supposed to be in a porn movie. After Russell's mother got older, she did everything she could with the help of her family to get the fuck away from her town and migrate on the Oregon Trail over to Nevada. Russell indirectly got his interests in true crime from his father, who got a job as a UPS driver and was a fan of the show Dateline. His father even had copies of episodes of To Catch a Predator. Among the action figures in Russell's room, he was a fan of Batman. Unfortunately, he was a fan of Batman written by Frank Miller. Which then led to him being a fan of Frank Miller in general. In terms of video games, he really liked Mortal Kombat. To net him some views, he would post footage of all of the fatalities and brutalities of Mortal Kombat, using characters like Reptile and most recently, the T-1000, as test dummies to showcase all of the kills without getting flagged with a violence warning.

It probably made a bit too much sense that there was a good chance that Russell had some undiagnosed issues going for him. Mortimer thinks that he had ADHD or was heavily autistic or probably something else. All the boys can say about Russell was that he had horrible taste in women. Very horrible taste in women.

"Eat shit, you phony Amber Heard bitch."

Russell nibbled on his chicken tenders, while Mortimer rolled his eyes. "Russell, we doom-talking again?" Mortimer mentioned to him.

"Isn't Musk technically president now?" Oscar asked as a snide reply. Mortimer sipped his diet coke. "I mean, that was definitely a Nazi salute." Oscar continued, but Carl stopped him.

"Everyone knows that he was doing the salute. Everyone also knows that Musk has people gold farm for him on Path of Exile 2."

The other 4 young men let out a "ooh" in reply. "Good one, Carl." Mortimer said.

"Does anyone feel nostalgia for wanting to play Bloons?" Louie asked his friends.

"Bloons? That's so casual! Why not something like GTA 4?" Russell asked him.

"No, we need to bring back the CDI version of Zelda!" Oscar said.

"Amen, brother. That game is actually a masterpiece." Mortimer said.

"No... ac-t-tutally it's a post-modernist form of art that was too ahead of its time back then." Louie said about the CDI verison of Zelda to join in on the joke.

"Why can't Wade and Ray stop by here?" Russell asked Mortimer.

"I texted them, but they seem busy. I figured we enjoy ourselves, since the horror club isn't going to kill me anymore." Mortimer said, though Russell chipped in with a remark.

"You have Fray-Fray going to turn you into the next Brain Thompson."

"You mean assassinate me with a Jamba Juice?"

"The first recorded murder in history from Jamba Juice will be a victim named Mortimer. That's who."

"You should see if Panera Bread can chip in. They can try to poison me with a caffeine overdose." Mortimer snickered.

[Kermit]

((Stella Nyquist stepped in through the front entrance.))

Scanned the room.

Saw Mortimer.

Blinked, double-take.

Turned and exited the establishment.

Got back into her Camaro.

((Drove off.))

[Cicada]

((Permission to write Rosa Hernández granted by LYourLocalAutist))






“Did you see that Camero that peeled off when we were parking?”
“ZL1.”
“Huuh. Didn’t know you were into cars, Rosa.”
“It looked familiar, like I’ve seen it on campus before?”
“It’s Stella’s.”
“... Oh yeah. You recognize her car?”
“I watch Varsity practicing sometimes. Taking notes.”
“Are they that good?”
“Best batch in years according to Coach.”
“They’re not even competitive circuit, right? Aura farming ahh.”
“Ooh wait, she’s the one you have a crush on, right?”
“Crush is putting it strooongly.”
“Still. Sucks I didn’t catch a glimpse of this supposed peak femme.”
“She’s pretty. Trust.”

"And here's your table ladies,"

so spoke a waitress with the energy of the open of her shift. One or two thanks. Four women shuffled, slid, splattered into the booth left of the other occupied one.

"And here are your menus." A few more thank yous. "My name is Bea, I'll be your server for this evening. If you have any questions please let me know, I'll be back to get your drink orders!" The waitress wandered off, spring in her step. Worn down, uncomfortable mattress sort of spring.

The camera briefly shunted over. In no particular order:

Leftmost. Rosa Hernández. Dreads dyed ghost blond, soft eyes, high cheekbones just like her older brother. Gen Alpha revival bohemian chic: earthy cream and brown shirt with polka dots and princess sleeves, relaxed white joggers, big round frame glasses. Infinity kitschy wood bracelets asymmetrically distributed over her two wrists. One hand holding Temu, the other hand holding local thrift stores. Eternal doomscroller of r/fauxmoi. She was her first period friend group’s go-to for indie pop a liiiitle less mainstream than Beabadoobee or Boygenius.

Skipping over her to the third girl at the table. Caitlin Wethersby. Curly brown hair, strikingly green eyes almost cartoonish in hue, chubby in body and face. Weeb... fashion, quote unquote; gray tee with a Pochita front and center; maroon yoga pants; way too many Genshin character keychains strung off her aged-to-imperfection brown pleather purse. DJ alias, taipan_forever. One of the more famous names among the perennial no-names of the suburban Las Vegas rave scene. The NGMI of the Vegas youth. 23 and a half, worked a shitty casino retail job to keep a bed in a one bedroom apartment with three other roommates. Free to play gacha enjoyer by force, not by choice. Boyfriend was even more useless than she was, his net worth tied up into three glass cases worth of gunpla.

Back to the girl skipped over. Jimena Marroquin. Wild wavy black hair left aesthetically undone to half bury her eyes, light brown eyes in an almond shape, gym influencer physique. Casual wear, a Red Rock spirit day tee, a blue marbled white skort down to the knee, a black smartwatch on her left wrist: 70 bpm average, 160 cal burned. Red Rock JV cheer flyer, already the standout talent of the freshman batch, yas bitch slay variety of arabesque. Currently focusing on getting her study habits together. A bit of tutoring from a certain Meghan Roberts had helped out. Jimena was confident she’d iron out the kinks in her grades by the end of the semester and be in a good position to join an all-star competitive team, as she ranted about at every single family dinner ever. Had… deeeecent taste in men. Half-kidding. She knew older was a long-term mistake, hormones aside.

Rightmost. Jimena's older sister,

[Mona Marroquín, Pregame Thread 3]

She was the light brown eyes in an almond shape done up in royal reds and golds, shout out to the approaching Lunar New Year; she was the fiery orange lipstick with a bit of extra douyin wet gloss; she was the light gray wool trench coat and the light gray white striped pageboy cap; she was the simple white undershirt and relaxed fit tan slacks.

You know the rest.

The two freshmen carried on their own conversation, something like:

“You think I have the hip flexibility for this one?”
“You coooould. I’ve been telling ya, like, hit me up during lunch. We can do stretch routines together.”
“I mean. I’m buuuusy.”
“Bitch when I leave you’re nose deep into Pinterest.”
“And I resent that ya don’t join me, mayne.”

Mona, being the closest to the table of ... whatever the fuck that was, came off the loudest by a smidge.

”A whole extra table on top level’s possible like I said. I’m just saying I’m curious who you got coming in.”
“Just a couple girls, uh… maybe? Guys. Dunno who Camero girl’s gonna invite along.”
”Are you doing this to impress her?”
“I’d call it a switch up but she probably fucks with crazier scenes.”
”Mmmm. Way you’ve spoken about her, who knows. Oh shit, y’all are gonna be under twenty-one yeah?”
“Yep. No issues with that, right?”
”Just keep the fakes on you. But I’ll make sure the organizers know y’all are with me.”
“Hm.” A giggle. “What’s it like having clout, Cait?”
”Wish it made me money.”

”But. No, like. Girl. You know we hit this in sync.”
“Mmmm. What would I wear, I guess?”
“We don’t have to color coordinate anything.”
“Yeah but you complain all the time that all I know how to wear is workout clothes and my cheer outfit.”
“You used to be so much better! Like I get you’re in hyperfixating on sportsball mode but, c’mon. You’re the hottest bitch in our grade-”
“—X to dooooubt—”
“I just wanna show off with you, you know? ‘Mena. Throwback. Eighth grade social studies. We cracked every neck in that room dont’cha know?”
“I remember, I remember. Hold up-”

“I’ll take you out to the buffet at the Wynn. Been a while since we’ve been there.”
”Oh god, yeah. That’d be an adequate comp for my efforts.”
“You know I’m good for— oh, hey sis. What with the phone you’re thrusting in my face?”
”Opinion?”

TikTok noises joined the Chilli’s ambiance.

“Huh. Yeah, the two of you could pull it off.”
”Feels like a slower grind might be more the play.”
“Oh, that’s a good call. Rosa?”
“... Low key hung up on dude in front. He can get it.”
“I mean. Yeah, agreed. Cait?”
“Shrug. I’m accounted for.”
“But if you weren’t?”
“Not my flavor. Mona, you’re the token sapphic here, which of the girls is the baddie?”
“This my new lot in life? Mmm. First one if I had to pick.”

“Ladies!” Chiptune sweet Bea’s server call-to-arms cut through the blob of conversation and looping TikTok video. “Have we decided?”

”Think I’m ready to order. If that’s okay, sis?”
“Go for it. Cait, are you ordering?”
“Maybe a dessert? But in a bit, just drinks for now.”
“Rosa?”
“Yeah. Blackberry ice tea and the Nashville Hot Crispers, thank you.”
“Dang, sounds goooood. Uh, unsweetened ice tea please! Surf and turf sirloin, sub the mashed potatoes for extra broccoli.”
“Fancy.”
“450 cal, 60 g of protein.”
“Of fucking course.”
“Too much sodium but hey, I’m a salty bitch.”
“That's my girl. Same. Cait?”
”House marg, strawberry.”
“One brainwave, dang. Same for me please.”

The two of-age girls hit the high as possible five. Bea asked for their IDs. Caitlin Wethersby. Camille Dolor. Wink wink.

“Looks good to me! I’ll be back with your orders, ladies. Call if you need anything else!”

Mona settled in for a long and chill hang out with one of her best friends in the world. And her DJ friend, and her best friend’s best friend who, uh, actually kind of hated her but. Y’know, emotionally abused her older brother and all. Understandable, comprehensible antipathy. Mona would have judged Rosa more if there wasn’t a side eye literally every time she opened her mouth.

Her ears perked. Wait. Familiar voices in the booth behind her. She chanced a peek in case it was, like, one of the handful of friendly faces on campus and

Nope. Not a friendly face. Not at all. Hm. Mona should have been paying more attention coming in. Accursed habituation. She’d thought Applebees was a safe space, she guessed. Like, in so far as anywhere in driving distance of Red Rock was safe for her. Didn’t Morty know he and the rest of his goons were supposed to be losers that only had an established presence in, like, VR chat yiff servers or whatever it was they did in their free time? Mona shrugged inwardly. Outwardly, no response. Whatever happened happened and all that. She chanced returning to the disjointed conversations at hand.

“What about Bea? She’s kind of cute.”
“I’m bi, not desperate. Hitting on wait staff should be illegal, et cetera.”

One ear open, that said. A passive absorbing of what the boys(™) were up to. Mona did have memories of the edgy gamer flavor of conversation from back in the day. Mostly lame and terrible, but like. Nostalgically so. Wait shit, was a barely eighteen year old even allowed to have nostalgia? Was she r/lewronggeneration now?

[Deblod100]

A presence of a goddess entered the building, only to leave when it encountered a rival.

Stella's arrival and quick departure went unnoticed by Mortimer and his troupe.

Perhaps, she would've attacked him when he was alone. Of what weapons she would've used, that answer is currently unknown.

"Hey, isn't the Razzies this month?" Louie asked the group. "Oh yeah! It's going to be a tough pick. I already know what movie is getting nominated nonstop. Serves those pricks right for stabbing us in the hearts." Mortimer said, seeing the Razzies as a form of karma.

"What are the nominations this year again?" Russell asked. "Most of the movies are comic book adaptations or superhero flicks." Carl replied. "Damn, now I want to see the 5th season of The Boys. They wouldn't hesitate to mock all of the shitty superhero movies, if that's the case." Mortimer snickered.

"Bets for Worst Picture?" Oscar asked.
"Megalopolis?" Louie started throwing out suggestions.
"Not Megalopolis. Movie sucks, but that movie tried too hard." Mortimer didn't want to give the film too much credit, since you have cheesy shit like this, when you have Adam Driver speaking like a Reddit moderator.
"Argylle?"
"Nah..." Carl groaned.
"Unfrosted?"
"Amy Schumer is probably going to get Worst Actress for that, but not Worst Picture."
"Reagan?"
"Not that either. But we had Dennis Quaid in that." Carl mentioned.
"And Dennis Quaid was also in The Substance, so we give that movie a pass."

"...Joke-"
"SHH! Don't speak that venom yet, Louie." Mortimer interrupted him, while nibbling on another egg roll. "Damn it, Carl. You're right. There's a lot of crappy superhero flicks that came out."
"Plus, there's no crappy superhero flicks that we can hate/mock watch on like Morbius." Russell commented.
"You're right on that. It's not even funny anymore, when you have the newest Crow film that's the same level of bad as Morbius."
"Isn't the new Crow movie bad as the other sequels after the original?" Louie asked them.
"Oh definitely." Carl chipped in.

"I was about to mention the Crow movie, but what about Kraven the Hunter?" Oscar suggested.
"Oh, that was also going to be my pick." Carl said.
"People don't give a shit about Kraven the Hunter. He only had one significant comic book story arc that everyone loved, but nothing else that stands out."
"Hang on!" Mortimer thought of a movie. "We're all still placing bets that Joker 2 will be the worst film of 2024, but what about Madame Web." Mortimer said, which caused his friends to let out a simultaneous chuckle.

"I didn't even watch Madame Web. That's the thing. That film had no substance." Louie said.
"Join the club, Louie. Nobody here had wanted to watch it. It's money to burn." Russell said, until he proposed another film as Worst Picture.

"Alright. Hear me out... Borderlands."
"Oh I hate that freakin' movie!" Mortimer immediately said with everyone agreeing. "Not in my top 10 worst films I seen, but it will be someone's list. Just as bad as Bio-Dome."
"Is Borderlands worst than Joker 2, though?" Carl asked a philosophical question.
"Well, no one cares about the Borderlands games anymore. That's a start. Second, Randy Pitchford was involved, so screw him. Third, it's like a Guardians of the Galaxy clone."
"Real." Oscar said.
"Why would they get Eli Roth to direct, if they made the film into PG-13? We needed him for Thanksgiving, not that shit." Carl mused.

"We do need to get our revenge on Todd Phillips somehow. God damn pretentious prick thinks it's funny to play us dirty like that. All of the so-called supporters of the sequel can die on the same hill. All with their hippy-dippy 'it's supposed to be an artistic statement' bullshit." Mortimer said, with the 4 boys agreeing.