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Summary:

If you could go back in time, what would you tell yourself?

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Larry has never been more embarrassed in his life.

It’s the third ever CPU Kerfuffle, yet the fifth he’d ever participated in. Or, rather, the first again? Whatever, time travel makes everything weird.

Either way, he was there, ready to fight. It had been years since his last tournament, but he made sure to practice every now and again. He knew he couldn’t afford to slack off, though getting his doctorate did distract him quite a bit. That, and, er, having a rock in his shoe, as it were.

Y’know who didn’t have a rock in his shoe? The Florida Man, strutting around the greenroom as if he owned the place. A seemingly permanent smirk was on his face as he razzed the other fighters, showing off his “chaotic energy.”

God, he was so annoying.

“-and basically, I’m a local celebrity. You’ve seen the headlines, right? Tell me you’ve seen the headlines.”

Right now, he was bothering The Saltiest Gamer, who was making it clear that he wanted nothing to do with him.

“I get it, dude, you’re a big deal or whatever. Why don’t you go tell all that to, uh...him. That doctor over there. You’re supposed to be fighting him later anyway, right?” The Gamer suggested, motioning over to Larry. He glares daggers at the kid, trying to shake his head subtly, but he is offered no mercy.

“Oh, great idea! Thanks kid.” The Florida Man says before mozying over. Behind his back, The Gamer shrugs to Larry, snickering to himself before running off. Larry, despite himself, becomes very eager to beat up a child.

“Soooo, Home, was it?” The Florida man asks, leaning above him. Larry nods.

“That’s me. Pleasure to meet you, Florida Man.” he sighs, not bothering to hide his displeasure. If Florida Man notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Oh, please, the pleasure’s all mine. After all, I’m gonna be your favorite person pretty soon.”

“And why’s that?”

“‘Cuz! You’re looking for the cure to losing, and I’m about to win this whole tournament. I’ll be a prime specimen for your research, won’t I?”

Larry looks away, rolling his eyes.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah! And I don’t come cheap, just so you know.”

“You’re already thinking about payment?”

“Well, yeah. Unfortunately, being king of newspaper headlines doesn’t pay the bills, so a bit of tournament money, plus some work as a lab rat… That’s gotta add up, right?”

Larry feels his heart sink. He remembers being in this position, of needing extra cash no matter how he got it. Such a simple motivation, a common problem. And, yet, look where it got him.

“...I’m sure it will.”

Just then, the speakers go off. The tournament’s about to begin, and all fighters are expected on stage for introductions.

“Well, would you look at the time. C’mon Doc, let’s get out there.” Florida Man says, gesturing for Larry to follow him. He does, of course.

-

Larry staggers back in from his fight with Sword Goku. There was a reason that guy became the leader of Team Clutch, he was no pushover. Still, though, Larry was able to take the fight, comfortably leaving him in the Grand Finals. Now, as he waited through the Loser’s Finals, he had a moment to patch himself up and rest.

Or, so he thought.

The Florida Man was still there, sulking. He was sitting on one of the benches, staring blankly at the concrete floor. His foot tapped on the ground, the only sound accompanying his mutterings.

“I can’t ask J0hn again, that’d be too much. I could ask the people here, but… No, no, they wouldn’t. Maybe ICEE’s is still hiring…?”

He hasn’t noticed Larry yet. He stands there, unsure of whether to make his presence known or to slip out before he’s spotted. He doesn’t get the chance to make a decision, as Florida Man looks towards him.

“Doctor…? Uh, I mean, hey Doc. You done out there?” he asks, regaining his smirk. It’s the fakest thing Larry’s ever seen.

“Yeah, I… I just finished. I’ll be back out there soon enough, but… Are you alright?”

Florida Man cocks his head, trying to look confused.

“‘Course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? ‘Cuz, I mean, it’s not like you heard my insane ramblings just then, right?”

“Actually, I-”

“Right.” Florida Man interrupts, walking forward and placing a hand on Larry’s shoulder. He gives a confident nod, as if he’s trying to comfort Larry. “Anyway, I better get going. I’ll see you later, when I take the championship from you, got it?”

Before Larry can say anything else, he’s off. The next time he sees The Florida Man, it’s from a distance, as he walks with a woman clad in red, promising him large sums of money for an “experimental procedure.”

-

“Ow, ow. Ow ow ow.”

The Florida Man dragged himself offstage, barely holding himself together. Drips and globs of himself fall onto the hard floor as he struggles to hold a solid shape. Everything hurts, partially from his impromptu battle with Hamburger Helper, partially from performing so many transformations in such quick succession. He still wasn’t used to this, not by a long shot.

Unable to move much further, he slumps against the wall, waiting to pass out or die or whatever. He was probably being overdramatic, but still. This hurt like hell.

“...Larry?”

The Florida Man looks up, seeing a short man in a black coat. He smiles, or, at least, tries his best to.

“Oh, hey Doc. Haven’t, uh… Haven’t seen you in a minute.”

Larry frowns. The Florida Man looks, frankly, pathetic. He remembers moments like these, especially early in his abilities. Too much stress would destabilize him, be it from physical damage or just an overabundance of emotion.

“Larry, you’re… Would you like some help?” Larry offers, carefully keeping his voice as calm as he could.

“Nah, I think I’d like to just become a puddle of pain and unethical science on the ground, thanks… Please help.”

With a single nod, Larry got to work pulling The Florida Man off of the ground and taking him to his office. It was a process, to be sure, but one he was accustomed to by now. With some effort, Larry managed to get him on the exam table without too much of him dripping over the edge.

“Hey, Doc, I… Sorry.” Florida Man mumbled.

“What for?”

“You probably don’t know what to do about this, huh? I mean, I know you work with a lot of different kinds of people, done a lot of good work, but… I’m just saying, not many doctors know how to help goo-men.” he explains, rambling absentmindedly. Larry’s expression softens as he steps towards him.

“You’d be surprised.”

Larry takes one of Florida Man’s arms, inspecting the gash there. Without hesitation, he just slides the gooey skin overtop of it.

“OW! What the hell?” Florida Man exclaims, yanking his arm away.

“Hey, hold still! This is how we fix this.”

“What?”

“Look at your arm!”

Florida Man does as he’s told, and sees that his arm is fine. It still hurts, but the wound itself is closed. He inspects it for a moment, mildly amazed. As he does, some of his solidity returns to him.

“...How did you know that?” he finally asks, looking back at Larry. He shrugs.

“I’m a doctor. I know how to fix people.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Larry interrupts. “Now, let’s get you all fixed up, okay?”

Florida Man wants to ask more, but keeps his mouth shut. Either way, he knows he has to keep a closer eye on the doctor from now on.

-

The day’s getting closer.

Everything is beginning to fall apart. Dr. Order is still champion, having just wrapped up CPU Kerfuffle 18. Larry has talked a bit with Iggy about the plan, and while he’s certain it will work out...that doesn’t stop him from worrying.

“Hey Doc.”

“Ah!”

Florida Man stands in Larry’s office doorway, looking unimpressed, having arrived unnoticed. Larry takes a moment to calm down after being snapped out of his thoughts.

“Larry, hello. I wasn’t expecting you here.” he explains, adjusting his coat. “What do you need?”

Florida Man shrugs, stepping into the office.

“Oh, I dunno. Just thought I’d drop by and ask about those spirits…and why you know so much about them.”

Larry sighs.

“Like I told you before, I can’t talk about it now. You’ll know when you know.”

“And I know that’s bullshit. Come on, Order’s running the place. If now’s not the time, when is?”

Larry hesitates. He can’t say anything now, that’d put the plan in needless danger. But, still, Florida Man won’t let this drop so easily.

“...I’m a doctor, Larry. I know a lot of weird things. Speaking of which, how’re you feeling? I know it wasn’t in you for long, but knowing what spirits can do to people…”

“Oh, I’m fine. Not sure Danthony can say the same.” Florida Man snaps back.

“You know I couldn’t have done anything about that, right? I mean,” Larry argues, holding up his new robotic arm. “I was a bit preoccupied.”

“Still, why’d you go to her first? You could’ve talked to Iggy, or Jenny, or literally anybody else!”

“I did talk to Iggy. We have a plan, so please, just… Don’t worry, okay?”

Florida Man looks extremely worried. Eyes on his hands and neck opened to look at Larry incredulously, but eventually closed as Florida Man put his head into his hands.

“Fine. Fine! Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out either way. Thanks for nothing, Doc.”

Florida Man turns and begins to walk out of the office. Just before he can leave, however, Larry calls out.

“Larry!”

“What?”

“...You’re doing good. Keep it up, and, I, uh…” Larry hesitated. Was this too much? Probably. But, whatever. He deserves this much, at least. “I’m proud of you. I hope you know that.”

Florida Man looked back at Larry, refusing to make eye contact. His expression was soft, yet unreadable. He said nothing for a moment, his skin beginning to drip ever so slightly.

“...Thanks, Doc. I dunno where that came from, but… Yeah.”

Florida Man left the room in an awkward hurry, emotionally conflicted. Larry smiled to himself, though it was somewhat pained.

-

Seven years ago, Florida Man sits alone in a field. It was for the best that he arrived somewhere unpopulated, but that still meant that he’d have to walk all the way back to New Donk with the rock in his shoe.

Speaking of, it was time to take care of that, wasn’t it? He looked over at the shimmering spirit floating above his hand. It was weak now, sure, but it would flourish with time. And, well, it’s not like he had anything but time right now.

He stood, allowing his new form to take hold. It was one he had gotten to know well through his time with the CPU Kerfuffles, one that he had technically already chosen. The spirit entered his chest easily, as if it always had belonged there. Before he’s even given a moment to take it all in, a car horn interrupts him.

“Hey! You there!”

The driver beckons for the man to come closer. He does just that, standing by the rolled down window.

“You lost?”

“No, I’m alright. Just a bit far from home, I suppose.”

“Yeah? You need a ride? I’m heading out to New Donk, if you wanna come.”

The man nods, entering the truck. The two take off down the dusty road, seeing the faint silhouette of the city in the distance.

“You got a name, son?”

“Lawrence. Lawrence Home.”

“Lawrence? Now that’s a city name if I ever heard one. Mind if I call you Larry?”

Larry smiles.

“I’d prefer it, actually.”