105 an inconvenient truth

"Esteemed future potential saviours of the world. No pressure. They are mobilising right now. Who they are and how they operate is beyond the scope of our current intelligence. What I can tell you is this, that there has been a maximum security breach in the collective imagination of planet earth. Do sheep dream of unelectric androids? Worse, but today's predicament rests on no less disturbing premises. Entities strongly influenced by the decade that you know as the 1980's are closing in on your city just as quickly as its boundaries are expanding and the frogs are reproducing. We need the big guy?" said Davis

Melanie, Erhard, and Koopa/Daly looked around. No big guy. 

"Who, Brandon?" asked Melanie, looking perplexed.

"Yes. If you want to slow the progress of this movement, find him. I've tried, but I missed him when I picked you all up. He was supposed to be there. He wrote me and perhaps some of the miscreants that will inevitably cause a great deal of trouble for you. I am a sentinel of sanity and I would love to help, but I have my own problems to worry about, and my next appointment is in 15 minutes. Good luck and Goodbye."

097

Lets recap, because I'm at a loss to completely place you in any useful linear continuum. Some one remind me why we're here. Davis being a complete tool.

This is not a cheap excuse for exposition. Koopa weighs in

But what if it is? Me pretending to be an invisible author

We're saving ourselves from the eighties. That's Mel (she's big(ish))

Specifically you're saving us from the eighties and doing your best to ignore me. This is Erhard

OUAEURVGHE Daly speaks
Translation: What are you doing? That's a stupid totally irrelevant question.

092

Melanie bent over and threw up. That was possibly the best ride she'd ever been on. Erhard crossed his arms and sneered. It wasn't clear if he was still upset about being drowned out by the buzz of Davis' arrival or if he was disgusted by Melanie's latest outburst. Davis looked quietly pleased irrespective of the root cause of his new comrades melancholy (not that their disparate dispositions were necessarily related). And Koopa/Daly continued to wail his/her indefetigable groan.

"What was that you just did?" said Melanie, after she'd recovered.

Davis knelt in starter block postition beside her "A valid question. We needed to get to safety. There's no telling how many agents of the eighties have already crossed over. So, I warped us here to this previously prepared secure way station, where I will brief you on what exactly the hell is going on."

"Good, but can you make it quick, I need to get back to the future, present, past or where ever we were to take care of some urgent, business." said Erhard

"Lets hear it, I suppose." said Melanie, when she really meant to say this is insane.

"OUAGHGHAO" said Koopa/Daly

"Excellent, lets begin then."

83.

ribit, ribit

"If you don't mind I was here first, and as you can see the situation is dire. Now you've said your piece about the 80's, horrible decade, but we've got our own problems to deal with." said Erhard

"With all due respect sir, with a wardrobe like that, you look to be the least qualified to make any comments on what was or wasn't, is or isn't fashionable. The 80's had its short comings to be sure, but it's ready to make a comeback." said Davis

"OAUGHUEHHE" said Daly and Koopa.

Erhard snuck a glance at his outfit, it was bright yellow and red, of course he knew that already, but he wasn't used to being insulted by strangers that materialised in brilliant flashes of light, he found it to be rather rude; All the more so, because his reclamation of the proverbial talking stick was so short lived, he'd been disarmed by the cocky guest almost immediately. He tried again" "Who said anything about fashion?" was all he could come up with. After that he thought of a million other things that would have been a hundred times wittier.

Melanie was about to make a psychological breakthrough and disencumber a portion of her inner child before these two strange men appeared on the scene, although they were no less strange than the man she was already dealing with, perhaps they leaned a little closer to normality than this ever-groaning zombie guy and for that she was resentfully grateful. Here she was getting bailed out again, same old Mel. Between these freaks, the redundant, overly abundant frogs; and the worst date of her life (the only date), she couldn't see how an invasion from the eighties could make things any worse.

"Authors with bad ideas, the return of the 80's, I don't understand." she said.

It looked like Erhard's attempts at heroism were marginally interesting at best to these people. They obviously couldn't be bothered with anything he had to say. Sometimes he didn't know what the point was in trying.

"All will be explained, friends." pronounced Davis, which was a rather forward relational label given that none of the group knew anyone else's name.

A ball of light surrounded them and shrank in on itself until they all disappeared. That's when Brandon showed up (and died).

78.

"If I may, I have been instructed to share this important message... Ahem, Dear Author, there exists a place where ideas go that nobody wants. Ever written a story before? Ever submitted it to a publisher? I know you have. Your walls are decorated with rejection slips. All unaccepted ideas wait in meme purgatory until they find a home or forever. There's simply no other way to deal with them." said Davis.

Melanie looked on quizzically. "Are you one of those ideas?"

Davis stood there for a very long time, then answered: "Yes."

68.

Davis arrived with a real live flash, the kind that reminds you of lightning striking within death's distance and knocks you on your posterior disavowing you of the gratitude of being spared due to your being really quite sore. Yes, exactly like that. The dead feel no pain. Getting there though that's the hard part.

He walked out of his crater, strutting like he'd just got the digits of the hottest girl on earth. There was definitely some overtly audacious pizazz in that chipper prance of his, the kind that made you sit up and say damn that boy can walk. Some where between the transition from crawling to walking there's an art form under appreciated by society at large, Davis was a walking Rembrandt. Even the frogs weren't an impediment, he simply squashed any that lay in his way.

He saw a mini assembly of fellow humans and moseyed on over.

"Greetings beings of planet of earth. I'm here to save you from the eighties."

Melanie looked him up and down. "You're too late."