Ducks, Yucks, And A God
rating: +24+x

Anoati's Great Adventure, Part 1

Ducks, Yucks, And A God


Anomaly Report

The following anomalies are featured in this report:


Polynesian sculpture of a head, endowed with sapience and assorted limited anomalous abilities, those being vocal projection, telekinetic ability, material transmutation into metal, and mental possession. SCP-3416 believes itself to be a god and acts as such. Refers to itself as "Anoati," and to metal as "Anoa-stone."


Group of five sapient rubber ducks, stylized in assorted mobster attire. Instances of SCP-3947 have a mild reality-altering effect in which all affected entities act similarly to cartoons (damage taken is not permanent, weapons can materialize from nowhere, and certain rules of physics are shirked for cartoon effect). Instances of SCP-3947 have unique, exaggerated personalities reminiscent of New York mobsters.


Sapient memetic agent in the form of a joke. SCP-3369 can transmit its consciousness into individuals affected by the memetic agent, appearing as a mental voice in the mind of carriers. SCP-3369 has the personality of a New York standup comedian. It is unknown how many individuals are infected with SCP-3369.

It had been a slow day for The Great Anoati. Most days, though, had been slow ever since he was encaged by the wicked “Foundation” tribe. He stared idly at the recently-offered tribute of fowl in front of him. The Foundation gave it to him, rightfully. He had deserved it. But in all truthfulness, he was bored, though he’d never admit it.

He spent the first couple hours of the day once again attacking the obviously-weak anoa-stone walls in his chamber. He was certain they would fall any moment. After all, who could make anoa-stone better than him? He laughed at the thought as he continued to strike his self-made anoa-stone duck beak against the shining grey wall.

He spent the next couple of hours pacing the cell. Of course, he couldn’t actually walk since he lacked legs and a body, but levitation was very much suitable for the purpose. He had to keep himself in shape somehow. He raced laps and laps around that damned cage.

After he was tired enough to barely lift himself, he sat down upon his pedestal to think. He thought of his island and his people. They knew how to respect him. They knew what real power was. He thought of this “Foundation,” those makers of weak anoa-stone. He thought of Dr. Simons. She understood. Only she. One day he’d leave this containment chamber.

“Ey boss, where’s the exit ta this thing, huh?” A voice carrying an exaggerated New York accent (though Anoati couldn't identify it) interrupted.

“Patience, Pinstripes. I’m telling ya, dis vent’ll lead us straight to their coffas! Keep movin’.” An older voice said.

“Sh-sh-sh-should I blow it all up, boss?” A shrill voice shrieked.

“Blasty, don’t touch nothin’.”

“Shut it, boys. I find vent, up here.” A feminine voice with a thick Russian accent snapped.

A few small, metallic creaking sounds followed, ended with a large banging noise as the cover of an air vent fell from the wall.

“We’re in.”

Anoati was surprised to see that this voice was coming from none other than a small duck with a strange texture, curiously clad in a blue dress with a balaclava. This texture was rubber, though that was also a thing Anoati had never known.

“Comrades, stop! There is no wealth in this room!” The duck shouted. No sooner had it said this than it was pushed out of the vent by an even smaller duck in a leather jacket and sporting a pompadour.

“Quit hoggin’ da door, Natasha! I want some cash!” It yelled as it pushed its way out of the vent.

“Get back here, Tiny! Ya gotta look fo’ traps first, or else they’ll getcha!” A duck in a pinstripe suit and fedora yelled, looking out the vent.

“He-he-he-he-hah!” An unstable voice cawed, as a duck covered in blast armor leaped through the opening, dragging down the suited duck and a final tuxedoed duck with a pencil-thin mustache, collapsing in a pile on the floor.

“Welp, I suppose we’re in da thick of it now. What have we here?” The tux duck said, straightening himself out and turning towards Anoati.

“Visitors! What a welcome occurrence!” Anoati bellowed, surprised yet pleased.

“Aw, shut it, headman.” The Boss said, observing the room, finally seeing the pile of fowl before Anoati. “Da hell is dis?”

“Great quackin’ quails, Boss, dem’s ducks in dat pile!” Pinstripes yelled. The other ducks began assorted panicking.

“Have you come to pay your respects to me, the Great Anoati? For that is me, the all-great and strong!”

“Dis is messed up!” Tiny yelled.

“Ge-ge-get back to da vent!” Blasty shouted, pushing his way back to the wall.

“You pushed me down, ya dolt!” Pinstripes screamed, slapping Blasty.

“I followed T-Tiny! Hah! Now w-we’re all stuck here!”

“Silence your mouths! What tribute do you nomads offer to me?” Anoati questioned, fully understanding that the conversation was veering away from him.

“Listen ta him, ya dumbbells!” The Boss said, silencing the gang. “Now watcha want, ya statue?”

“Statue? I am much more than simple statue! I am Anoati, divine ruler and powerful leader! I am god! Now, offer tribute and sacrifice or-“

“Yeah, yeah, and what’re you gonna do, huh?” Pinstripes questioned, menacingly patting a spiked club.

“Da, what do you do, headperson?” Natasha asked.

“Refer to me by my name! And I demand tribute, or you shall bear witness to my rage!”

“Howsabout dat? Stony-boy here’s tryin’ da extortion game?” The Boss called to his gang.

“Heh heh, I sez we break his neck!” Tiny shouted, pulling out a large bat.

“Ya ignoramus, he ain’t got no neck!” Pinstripes yelled back.

“Silence! Anoati has no need for your blathering! What brings you…creatures to this place?” Anoati asked, hovering a few feet from the ground.

“Whatcha think? We’re here fo’ da cash! Now where ya hidin’ it?!” The Boss menaced, poking a wing at Anoati.

“You come seeking the fabled treasure of Anoati!? Begone, for it is far beyond your reaches, you strange duck-creatures! Your greed serves only to annoy me!”

“Who you callin’ creatures?” Tiny roared.

“More importantly, where is treasure?” Natasha added.

“Boys, if we want dis treasure, we’re gonna need to rough dis guy up good!” The Boss said.

“Enough of your imputence!” Anoati bellowed. The ducks had gotten close enough to him to be in his range, and he flung the tuxedoed duck into the chamber’s wall. “I will suffer no more of it!”

“No one throws the Boss that way! Get ‘im!” Pinstripes cried, launching at Anoati with his large crowbar.

“Hyeh-hah-hah-hah! Now we’re talkin’!” Blasty laughed, pulling a comically simple flamethrower from nowhere.

Tiny, too, ran towards Anoati, flinging himself through the air like the other ducks with his baseball bat, a sharp nail driven through the top. Natasha brandished a handful of knives, tossing them towards Anoati.

Anoati threw them in every direction, smashing their oversized weapons against each other. Still, they came back with more giant weapons. Anoati knew not what sorcery this was, but knew he must slay these evil creatures. But whatever blow he inflicted upon them by their own weapons, whether it be an axe or an anvil, they always seemed to bounce back. Even seemingly fatal attacks did little to injure them.

“Take this!” Anoati shouted as he turned the Boss into pure Anoa-stone. He moved no longer, now shining a lustrous sheen.

“W-w-w-what’d you do!?” Blasty screamed, rushing to the immobilized bird. The other birds joined in too, surrounding him.

Anoati tried flinging them away. “Get back here! Anoati has not finished!” Alas, they were out of reach. “Come here and fight me!”

“Quiet, the Boss needs sum serious treatment!” Pinstripes yelled at Anoati, yanking a hospital bed from the air and shoving the Boss onto it.

“You shall not insult Anoati this way!”

“Jeez, have sum respect!” Tiny shouted, shooting a stern glance at Anoati.

“No, I-“

“Halt your words, godman. This is not your concern.” Natasha said, now holding a too-large bone saw in one wing. “Now, who knows dee medicines?”

“I can g-g-give it a shot! Lemme at ‘im!” Blasty said as he took the bone saw, bending it into a duck-shaped outline on the metal Boss. Dejected, he turned to the others. “Welp, th-th-that’s all I got.”

“I haven’t fini-“

“Wait! I got sum C-C-C4! We can b-blow the metal right off!

Pinstripes whacked him in the head. “Blasty, don’t touch nuthin’!”

“Ya know, dey say laughta’s da best medicine! And since we don’t got real medicines, lemme cracka joke!” Tiny proposed. "I heard dis one over in da west wing! Sum folks in cells wus tellin' it to each otha!" At this point, Anoati started shouting at the mobster ducks, doing so loud enough for him to completely miss the joke.

“I shall rip your tiny strange beaks from your tiny strange bodies! I will keep your heads as trophies, and make coats out of your strange, naked skin! Finish your fight! Are you not warriors? Fight me! Cowards! Get over here!”

“I’d be more than welcome ta do just dat.” The Boss said, hobbling out of his bed. “Hot dog, that joke cured me! Really is da best medicine, huh!”

“How did you do that?! No one destroys my Anoa-stone! What have you done?!”

“I told ‘im a heckuva joke. Now let’s go beat up dis heckuva joke!” Tiny said, now brandishing an axe and flying towards Anoati. All the other ducks followed, attacking Anoati again.

Elsewhere, Dr. Simons was having a pretty good day. There was a light workload, nice weather, and even free donuts at the front desk. All she had left to do was give Anoati a visit. Sure, he could be a bit… much, but she had learned that really, he was a kind being. Since she had gotten him to stop being angry all the time, the visits had been relatively simple and pleasant. She said hi to Florence, the single security guard at the door (there used to be four of them before Anoati became less hostile).

Then she opened the door to find Anoati engaged in flinging weapon-wielding rubber ducks around him like he was some miniature sun in a tiny galaxy of ducks.

She sighed.


“Yes, Dr. Simons?”

“We’re going to need Task Force Omega-16 in here, stat.”

“On it.”

Within the minute, a group of armor-clad operatives carrying unwieldingly-large hammers and burlap sacks rushed into the chamber. Though Dr. Simons couldn’t watch, she could hear a large series of crashing noises, the sound of a piano falling, erratic gunfire, and some thumping sounds. The task force came out with their burlap sacks closed, small hectic figures writhing and threatening from within. She then decided to talk to Anoati.


“Anoati, I’m disappointed.”


Now in their bathtub, stuck within a large containment chambers, the mobster ducks reconvened.

“Fellas, we’ve been stiffed! We neva got no treasure, and I gots a big ol’ bump where ya dropped da piano, Tiny!” The Boss growled, puffing on a big cigar.

“Sorry Boss.”

“Betta be! Next time, we’ll find dat ancient treasure!”

The ducks floated around for a second, growling and angry.

“At least I saved ya from da metal, ey?” Tiny said.

“Saved me? Ya mean the joke ya told me? Dat joke stunk!”

“Well I was a fan of it.”

The ducks searched around them.

“Who da heck said dat?” Pinstripes shouted. The voice each duck had heard was masculine and had a New York accent, though it was much less exaggerated than the ducks’.

“Don’t bother, I’m inside all of your tiny duck brains.” The voice said.

“Watcha doin’ in there?” Tiny yelled.

“More importantly, who are ya?” The Boss shouted.

“People, people, settle down. I’m The Joke!”

“Beat me to da punch,” Pinstripes muttered.

“Hah, looks like I’m not the only comedian in the room! I came from the joke the greaser duck told. That’s me.” The voice said. “But for real, I think I really like you fools. Let’s talk.”

“Dere’s only thing I wanna talk ta you about, and dat’s gettin’ you outta my head! What’s it to ya, huh?” The Boss menaced.

“Okay, okay, not huge fans on the whole “voice in the your head” thing, I get it.” The Joke in their heads said. “But let me tell ya, in the short time I’ve known you guys, I’ve been impressed! All of you and that Anoati guy — that was something! Real comedy gold, if ya ask me!”

“Get to your point, joke-person.” Natasha snapped.

“I wanna stay around a bit more with you guys. You’re going back to Anoati, right? I can read the room. C’mon, let me in on it.” The Joke said. “All I’m saying is that you could use some extra manpower.”

“…Manpower from a ghost voice?” Tiny asked.

“Well, I got a couple of hosts being held over in the west wing. I know they’d be jumping at the opportunity to get outta here.” The Joke offered.

“Sure, buddy. And dat’s the part where ya stab us in da back, eh? I’m on ta ya!” The Boss shouted, pointing a wing at no one in particular.

“You can call the shots. I’m just here to see what happens.” The Joke said nonchalantly. “You guys are fun, and I sure could use the inspiration. Also, I know the entire site’s layout. I’m in the hearts and minds of employees throughout the Foundation.”

The ducks floated around for a bit in the languid bath water, thinking. The Boss puffed on his cigar a few more times while Tiny rubbed a dirty rag over a spiked club.

“Fine, we’re in.” The boss said, tossing his cigar aside. “Now how’re we gettin’ dere?”


“Hmph. Silly Foundation should at least try and hide air ducts from us!” Natasha puffed as she unscrewed an air duct in the west wing. It fell past a large sign on the wall reading "3369."

“Who the hell is there?” The woman in the cell asked. “Just… just move on, I’m not the person you want!”

She had long black hair covering a thin, blemished face. She wore an orange jumpsuit with the tag D-99168. She began speaking seemingly to herself.

“No, I’m not listening to you! Fuck off! Leave me!” She shouted.

“Great, we get da loon!” Pinstripes remarked.

“You’re one to talk.” The Joke said. “Come on, nothing? Tough crowd. Anyways she’s the one.”

“Den let’s nab ‘er!” Tiny whispered, carrying a large burlap sack.

Before the woman could react, Pinstripes and Tiny descended, wrapping her within the burlap sack. She struggled as the ducks hauled her back towards the vent.

“Awww, dere’s no way she’s fittin’ in here!” Pinstripes lamented as he pulled through the vent. The vent was indeed too small for the woman to fit. Blasty laughed.

“You j-j-just some elbow grease!” Blasty pulled out a bottle labeled “ELBOW GREASE,” smothering the contents on the air vent. This time, impossibly, the woman in the sack slipped inside.

“Well call me Wallace Shawn, because this is inconceivable! Now I know how Santa must have felt!” The Joke mused.

“Shut it.” The Boss said, annoyed.

“Gotcha, Boss.”


Now, Anoati wasn’t feeling very grand. Dr. Simons had told him off for fighting the strange duck-creatures instead of reporting them, which was a strange experience. Any other person, and he would slay them with his near-limitless power. But Dr. Simons-what was she? Was it… respect? Mortal humans weren’t worthy of respect! They were ants! They were-

“We’re baaaaaaack.” An exaggerated voice called through the air vent.

“Can I b-b-b-blow up the vent this time?” Blasty’s muffled voice asked behind the wall.

“Blasty, do not touch a thing. We are in.” Natasha said as the vent’s cover clattered onto the floor. And with that, five ducks, two of which were carrying a person-sized sack, entered the room.

“Returned for more combat, I see! Now I shall enact my rage!” Anoati yelled, excited to settle this.

“Hey, whoah whoah! No need fo’ dat! We just wantcha treasure! Now where is it!” The Boss interrogated. The sack the ducks were carrying was still thrashing around.

“Hey folks! I believe our captive here is convinced enough to help ya now! Her name’s Sarah Merrill by the way, probably beats “prisoner lady! You can let her out.” The ducks followed The Joke’s advice as the unkempt woman jumped to her feet.

“Oh Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?” She moaned, taking a look at her fowl captors and holding a hand to her head.

“You return with reinforcements! No matter, I can slay you all!” Anoati shouted, now becoming angered.

“Can ya just tell us where da treasure is?” The Boss asked.

“Harrumph!” The godly head scowled. “It is far away! Upon my island with my people across the blue seas, at the center of everything in the world!”

The ducks convened for a second, while Sarah leaned against a wall, still gaining her bearings. Finally, the returned to face Anoati.

“And ya know how ta get there?” The Boss asked.

“This “Foundation” has taken me far from my home! I know not where I am!”

“But if we took ya there?”

“If you should escort me to my land, then you would be rewarded greatly! But betray me, and face eternal agony!”

“Yeah, sure. Dat works for us.” The Boss agreed. “So let’s get outta here.”

At this, Sarah joined the conversation. “Huh, we’re getting out of here?” She was now visibly excited.

“Yeah we are! And da Joke wants ta take you too. Let’s go!” The Boss declared. “Boys, waddya got?”

Tiny spoke up. “Boss, I got a hole in me pocket.” Sarah sighed. Her disappointment was interrupted by Tiny pulling a sizable black circle from his pocket. “Now let’s blast outta dis prison gig!”

The Boss turned to the gang. “Lock and load, fellas.” Anoati floated towards them as they gathered.

“Haha! I shall wreak devastation upon these evil men!”

“Now dat’s more like it.” The Boss said.

“I still do not like you though! Now let us battle!”

Everyone ran to the wall as Tiny brought the hole into the wall. The Boss and Pinstripes loaded comically-simple tommy guns. Tiny smacked a spiked baseball bat into his wing, and Natasha materialized handfuls of knives into her wings. Blasty just laughed as he pulled on straps of explosives.

“Does this woman know how to fight?” Anoati questioned.

“Ehh… no.” She admitted. “ I can just follow you in the back.”

“Nonsense! I shall possess you, and you shall fight alongside us!” Anoati boomed.

“Wha-?” Sarah almost said, before stopping mid-word. As this happened, a different voice came from her mouth. A New York, male’s voice.

“Wowee! Now this is what I call lip service!” It said.

“What foul sorcery is this?!” Anoati questioned.

“Oh where are my manners? I’m the living joke, they call me SCP-3369. Anoati, living joke. Living Joke, Anoati. Pleasure to meetcha!”

“What?” Anoati was lost.

“Well for most I’m the voice in the back of people’s heads, but it looks like Sarah’s not in control anymore. Feels good to have a body!”

Sarah stood still for a moment, saying nothing. The ducks fiddled with their weapons, hitting each other’s heads while doing so.

“Huh. Body doesn’t seem to be moving. Just the mouth. Heh, ain’t this awkward.” The Joke remarked.

“It is because I control the body! Your power is nothing compared to mine!” Anoati laughed.

Pinstripes turned to the talking two. “It’s time. Hit it, Tiny!”

With this, Tiny pushed the hole into the wall. As it made contact with the wall, the blackness of the circle drained away with a vacuum-like sound to reveal a large, nondescript lab space. Scientists in lab coats fussed over microscopes, carrying papers and typing on computers. The sound of the hole caused many to look at the disturbance. What came next, none of them expected.

“Hit da floor, nerds!” Pinstripes shouted, spraying the room with cartoon bullets. Scientists were thrown back with the force of rubber bullets. The world-altering cartoon aura that surrounded the ducks meant that all their attacks were non-fatal, leaving the innocents to be knocked out at worst.

Tiny rushed into the fray, swinging his bat like a crazed berserker. He laughed the whole time. Blasty was laughing too, chucking miniature bombs into the scientist faces. Anoati bellowed a mighty warcry as he floated through the room, levitating pens and turning them to Anoa-stone. They blasted through the air into fleeing lab coats. The Boss stayed in the back, chewing on a cigar and shooting his tommy gun back-to-back with Pinstripes. Knives flew from Natasha’s wings, and Sarah was tossed around the room like a poorly-controlled puppet, flinging punches and kicks around the room.

“Looks like I’m a regular Bruce Lee over here!” The Joke mused. Within minutes, the room was still, littered with unconscious scientist bodies.

“Heh, dese schmucks don’t know what hit ‘em!” Pinstripes chuckled.

Tiny turned to the group. “Duhhh… what now?” He asked. Sarah chimed in in the joke’s voice.

“Everyone, wait.” She remained still. “Anoati, move me to the center of the room.”

Sarah moved with a disconnected gait into the room’s center, almost tripping over a few bodies.

“I just heard something really great, guys. So there’s this Dr. Roy fella I’ve been friends with for a while. He doesn’t actually know it, since I’ve never talked to him because you know how these Foundation blockheads are. Anyways, I feel like we really woulda hit it off. Fun guy.”

“Moy bog, get to the point!” Natasha shouted.

“Well this Dr. Roy guy just left a meeting with the director, and he said that this guy’s leaving right away in a van outside to a certain Polynesian island for assessment! It’s perfect!”

The ducks cheered at the sound of this.

“And n-n-now, I blow up da room!” Blasty shrieked.

“Blasty, don’t touch nuthin’!” The Boss snapped.

“Well, let us go onwards! We will use this ‘van’ object to lead me home! Forward!” Anoati proclaimed.

“…and it’ll lead us right to da treasure, eh boys?” The Boss chimed in towards his gang. They giggled as the group left the lab into a steel hallway. They continued down it for a matter of minutes, with no one in sight.

“Wow, it’s emptier than Tiny’s brain in here! Thank god for Sundays off, right?” The Joke joked. Anoati began to slow.

“Um, people! Wait for the Great Anoati!” He rumbled as he commanded the mind-controlled Sarah towards him. She carried him on an arm and continued her run through the hallway.

“Looks like someone ain’t so all-powerful after all.” The Joke quipped.

“Silence! I could have you killed with ease! Anoati simply tires after spending many hours exerting his powerful ability of levitation! He now seeks rest for the next battle! Continue onwards!”

And so the party rushed onwards. Soon, the Joke had to speak.

“Uh, guys? One problem I may not have mentioned earlier: the van doesn’t show up for another hour.”

The group grumbled.

“Why couldn’tve ya told us earlier, ya two-bit joke!?” Pinstripes snarled. “Well, we know a place ta hide out for a bit.”

“No! A mighty god such as Anoati shall not hide!”

“We don’t got time fo’ dis! Da guards’ll show up any minute! Quick, turn ‘ere!” The Boss commanded. Anoati griped and yelled as the group made a sharp turn into a sizeable closet. There they remained, biding their time for the fight ahead.


“So, what’s your damage?” The Joke asked Anoati. They’d been idling in there for the better part of an hour, spending most of the time accidentally attacking each other. The non-ducks spent most of their time trying to prevent the ducks from doing this.

“Hmph! I have never been damaged! I am a god!” Anoati muttered, nesting in Sarah’s lap like he had for the past hour.

“Sure, buddy. But in the short time I’ve met ya, I can tell you’re not alright. Say what you want, but I can feel you.”

“Heretic!” Anoati scoffed. The ducks remained silent, listening in.

“It’s okay. I’m not judging. Matter of fact, things haven’t been smooth sailin’ for me either.” Anoati remained silent, listening. “Hey, wanna hear a joke?”

At this time, the ducks began fighting again, this time with Tiny running from everyone else. The antics were loud and distracting. By the end, the joke had told itself.

“…well? Whaddya think?” Anoati paused for a few seconds.

“I do not understand it! What is this ‘car’ thing? Or a ‘bar,’ what is that?” Anoati questioned, very confused.

“Ah, screw it. Still, it means a lot to me, ya know? Since, well, it is me. I know it’s not the best joke, but I try. Most people don’t even appreciate it. Just makes me feel…alone, ya dig?” The Joke said, as Natasha removed the crowbar from Tiny’s Head.

“Loneliness, hm? I never understood the thing! Anoati is beyond mere emotion! Anoati is a mighty god! Well, you have been loyal minions.” He said to The Joke. “Lately, Anoati feels…restless? Everything has been wrong since these “Foundation” men have taken me away! What have I become?”

“Eh, Anoati? Can ya make this body nod in sympathy?” The Joke asked.

“It is done! I can do that, yet am I not a god? Why do I not feel it? They treat me as a prisoner! I must return home immediately! It is not right in this wicked place!”

“I get ya. Let’s get out of here, buddy.”

“I am no ‘buddy!’ I am your god!”

“Sure thing.”


The ducks peered out of the cracked door. They watched as two armed guards strolled down the hallway.

“I am on it.” Natasha stated. She pulled a rope besides her, and two anvils dropped on the heads of the guards, incapacitating them.

“Alrighty, lets go! There’s an exit really close to here! Just gotta take two more rights!” The Joke said joyfully.

The strange group ran through the facility before coming to a final door.

“Open this gate!” Anoati commanded. Natasha was already at the control panel. Within seconds, it slowly pulled away. Natural light shines through the opened door, illuminating an asphalt parking lot, as well as a troop of well-armed soldiers.

“Chert, they were waiting!” Natasha remarked. “Get back!”

Explosive gunfire erupted throughout the hall, as Anoati and company jumped to the side of the door.

“Well, the joke’s on us, isn’t it?” The Joke mentioned. “We’re not getting through all of that in one piece.”

The Boss stood unsteady. “Darn it, dis can’t be it! What about ya island? How will ya get dere now? Dis story ain’t over! Dat’s it, I’m going in! Follow me or be left behind, robber ducks!”

And with that, the ducks jumped through the doorway. Gunfire ricocheted and multiplied, as did shouting.

“L-l-let me handle this!” Blasty yelled over the ruckus.

Pinstripes spoke up. “Blasty! Don’t touch-“

“No. Blasty, blow it all up!” The Boss shouted.

“Hyeh-hah-hah-haaah!” Blasty yelled, as a mighty, thunderous explosion rang throughout.

Anoati and The Joke heard The Boss as the explosion settled and gunfire continued. “Head-man! Joke-man! Get goin’!”

“What about you, you crazy duck?” The Joke asked.

“We’re held up here, it looks. I heard ya story! Sad stuff! Go on, get to ya island! Fuggedaboutit!” He yelled, as he disappeared into a blast of dust and flame. Anoati and The Joke rushed through the doorway.

“Stick to the side. The van’s right there!” The Joke said. The mind-controlled Sarah, carrying Anoati, sprinted into the back of the van, closing the doors as they did so. They heard shouting from the front of the van, separate from them by a thin wall.

“Damnit, what the hell’s happening over there? Do we have all our supplies!?”

“Let’s get out of here!”

“But we’re supposed to wait for authentication! We can’t skip that!”

“Oh yes we can! See that explosion? That’ll be us in a few minutes! Now drive!”

And with that, the van zoomed off. After a couple of silent minutes, The Joke began breathing heavily.

“What ails you, ally?” Anoati asked.

“Aw hell.” He said, regretfully. “I… I need to leave now.”

“No! I command you to stay!”

“Anoati, they’re taking the other hosts hostage. Sarah here’s not the only host of me they kept. They’re holding guns to my other friends, telling me to come back.”

“Forget them! There is no cause more worthy than aiding Anoati!”

“No, I’m not a killer. I’m sorry, but I need to leave.” He said heavily. “It’s a shame. Sarah…she was a good person. That’s why I had the ducks save her. I wanted her to have a better life than this. I really liked her.”

“Do not say this! Do not leave!”

“Anoati, make Sarah open the door.”


But even as he yelled no, Sarah opened the back door of the van. The rumble of the highway filled the back of the van.

“It can’t be like this!”

The joke paused. “Huh… maybe it won’t! Anoati, you’re a god, yeah?”

“Of course Anoati is a god!”

“Then…erase me from this girl’s mind. I don’t know if you can do it, but if you can take away Sarah’s control, you can take away mine. She deserves it.”


“Anoati? Do it. I won’t let them die.”

“Fine!” Anoati screamed. The light and focus in Sarah’s eyes began fading.

“But hey, if you’re ever around, come give me a visit here, huh? See the show! I’ll be here every night.” The Joke said, in a mirthful tone tinged with sadness. “Thanks for watching.”

And with that, Sarah slumped to the floor. She turned her head and looked around.

“So who the hell are you?” She said, in her normal voice.

“I am The Great and Powerful Anoati!”


Back at the site, a different van took to the road. This one had been parked right next to the one Anoati had gotten on. Dr. Roy, covering his head as he scrambled through the battle zone, slammed the side door closed as he got in this van. It took off towards the airport, on its way to the Pacific.

Anoati’s van continued its way to Site-72.

Now, for more fun, take a look at Aleph-NullAleph-Null's submission here!

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