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Everything seemed to standard today. Peppino was busy collecting the rest of the Toppin's, wherever he was; Pepperman was probably working on his latest art piece, a painting, or sculpture perhaps; The Noise must’ve been preparing for his big fight with Peppino, sure to make the scene a spectacular one, regardless if he won or lost the fight. Noisette was probably there in the Noise's studio, supporting him all the way.
And the Vigilante? Well, he walked around, with nothing special to do.
Sure, he had that bounty he could be working on. But what were the chances that a strange intruder would show his face today? Other than his usual work, tending to his dairy cows and his small farm, today was quite the slow, uneventful day for the lone ranger. Which was fine, in all honesty. His body ached with soreness after fighting Peppino, and he wasn't looking for another body-straining beat down anytime soon. That bounty could wait.
Everyone played their part in the tower. Pepperman designed advertisements and promotional material for the Pizza Boy brand, all the while working on his own portfolio in hopes he’d find better work. The Noise served as an anti-mascot of sorts, antagonizing the tower’s supposed delicious pizza only to be foiled in his attempts to destroy it, both in advertisements and in reality.
Like the others, Vigert had his own job, and it was to make sure his cows produced the milk that was used in Pizza Boy’s cheese. Wheat was also something he handled, of course, but that wasn't the specialty he had been hired for.
But being a swift, hard worker - and having several other farmers to help in sectioned areas - he eventually ran out of things to do, which was shocking, considering how busy his farm had always felt before. Somehow, even if the other farmers were quite dimwitted and dull, they still managed to put in their fair share of work and effort, and it meant today there was not much left to do. So he had left the colorful "fun farm" to dwell in his home in the desert, lacking the friendly faces and the wandering cattle he usually worked around.
The Vigilante glared at the vast, empty Oregano Desert in front of him, seeing a tumbleweed pass by in a soft breeze. He was so bored and so mentally out of it that for a moment, the sight didn't bother him in the slightest, but when his reaction caught up, he aggressively jerked up with caution. A tumbleweed herd was the last thing he needed to form right now!
To those unaccustomed to the rampant plant, it may seem comedic and charming when one tumbles in the wind. But for those familiar with the weed's destructive power, seeing one was a horrible sight.
Bringing himself over to the weed with his tall, leather boots, he brought a rough foot down upon the thorny bush, stomping as hard as he could to crush the plant's form. This tumbleweed was just big enough that even a small cheese slime like himself could tear it down, but he'd still need to dispose of it, lest it spread more seeds, or its thorns poke any unsuspecting passerby.
Collecting the sharp branches carefully with his sturdy gloves, the Vigilante searched for a place to safely dispose of the weed. Known for their choking of crops and force during windstorms, the poor man was weary of them, fearful of what a mass of tumbleweeds could do if too many grew here.
As he walked, he didn’t pay much attention to the world around him, or the way his grip on the plant weakened. His mind was somewhere else, remembering a time of fire and fury. Tumbleweeds are incredibly dry and flammable, and he had seen their true natures come out many years ago. That horrible fire, the tumbleweeds dancing and bouncing in the wind, bringing the flames right to his grandfather’s house…
He shook his head violently, snapping himself away from his plaguing thoughts, not allowing himself to feel those painful emotions which tried to bring themselves to his surface. Life taught lessons, some painful in nature, and that lesson was to never let a tumbleweed get by undisturbed on his property.
Making his way to his small, humble home, the Vigilante dumped the tumbleweed's remains in a sturdy trash bag; he'd have to keep a lookout for suspicious looking sprouts on his land now, or he'd have hell to pay trying to collect and destroy a mountains worth of Russian thistle.
In the comfort of his cabin, he could see a hung up picture of his old John E. Cheese watching over him, pitchfork in grasp. Normally, the image would comfort him after a long day but… right now, he needed to think of something else.
It was too late in the day to visit Noisette; her café was closed by noon, so she was likely busy helping the Noise in his studio or something, and the Vigilante wasn't exactly in the mood to watch the gremlin find various ways to hurt himself on camera.
Maybe he should visit Pepperman? The two weren't necessarily friends, things having been awkward between them before. While he did want to improve their friendship, the cowboy wasn't so sure he could handle that guy's loud, attention-demanding voice right at the moment.
The cheese slime pinched the non-existent bridge of his further missing nose, briefly deciding what he should do. He wasn't willing to make small talk with anyone in the tower, and he certainly wasn't going to work on bounties when his body begged for rest so badly.
Someone like him typically refrained from napping and resting when they could. It was seen as weak in a way, or lazy to be wasting precious daylight hours. But this time… this time, it would be okay to let himself rest. He wasn't going to get work accomplished like this, and it wasn't like he had anything better to do.
Being a cheese slime, his home was quite small for ease of access, and his bed was what a human person would consider just a large basket, a pillow placed inside for comfort and a blanket on the side for warmth. It was humble in appearance, but boy, was it comfortable.
Ready to hit the hay, the cowboy took off his trademark hat and crawled into his "bed." He was admittedly a bit of an insomniac most of the time, but even just laying there with his eyes shut, wrapped up in a soft, hand-knitted blanket that had been a family treasure seemed to relieve some of the exhaustion in his body.
That was until several minutes later, when he was just about to loll into a deep sleep, he jerked and rose from his basket, disturbed by the sound of a distant, crashing impact.
A loud boom and the sensation of the wood plank floor shaking beneath his slimy form alerted his attention. Everyone had become accustomed to the occasional thump and bump ever since Peppino and his friends had shown up to the tower, but this was much louder and more powerful… If he didn't know any better, he'd say it sounded like an explosion!
So much for getting some shut eye. Frankly pissed off, the cheese slime grumbled under his breath, throwing his blanket off of him. He didn't take lightly to strangers trespassing on his property, and property destruction? Oh, he wouldn't tolerate that at all.
The Vigilante didn’t waste any time; his cowboy hat placed back on his head, he grabbed his two favorite guns which rested nearby. One was an uzi, the gun he typically used in times of emergency; the “bullets” were actually balls of cheese, which could stun their target or even injure them if fired in succession, but couldn’t fatally wound someone like his pistol could. He never used his pistol if he had a choice. Taking a life was something he’d had to do before in acts of self-defense, but it wasn’t something he ever wanted to repeat. Still, he kept it on him, just in case.
Slithering as fast as he could, the Vigilante searched for the source of the commotion when he exited his cabin, and soon enough, voices drew in his attention; off in the distance, there were four distinct figures. One he immediately recognized to be Peppino Spaghetti, but the cowboy's anger only grew when he spotted that friend of his, Gustavo, and his intimidating, large rat companion as well. Not only did the guy have the nerve to trespass on his land, but he brought his friends along too!?
Except it appeared that it wasn't only Peppino who was causing all the ruckus. Separate from the group stood a fellow dressed in a long trench coat, the Vigilante knew to be Mr. Incognito's getup. The brim of the man's hat casted a dark shadow upon his face, once again leaving his face obscured, just the same as in his wanted poster. In the strange figure hand was a bomb, decorated with the face of none other than the Noise!
It made no sense for Mr. Incognito to
be
the Noise… Not only was the TV actor busy, but if he was going to antagonize Peppino or even the Vigilante, he certainly wouldn’t use a disguise to do it. No, whoever this was, he had a reason to hide his face, but the cowboy would have to give the Noise a few strong words later about protecting his weapons, lest someone like this guy steal them. Unless the mascot gave away his bombs for free. Maybe the Noise had actually hired this bomb-wielding attacker, and there was a camera hidden somewhere capturing all of this?
The Vigilante wasn’t going to get answers if he just sat there. Though an eager, stubborn part of him was eager to put Peppino in his place, catch him and collect that bounty money, prove he wasn’t a failure… he had enough brains to know it would be a losing battle. The Vigilante couldn’t defeat the Italian when they were one-on-one, so how would he be able to face two guys and their menacing rodent?
Chasing after Peppino and his gang wasn’t an option. This Mr. Incognito guy, however? Well, Vigert would see if this newcomer could handle the job. Besides, now would be a good opportunity to learn how this guy ticked, how he pulled his punches, if the bounty hunter ever wanted to capture him in the future.
Both parties had yet to notice the Vigilante creeping onto the scene, his flexible body hunched and squished down as he slithered closer. He’d use their ongoing fight to his advantage; as long as the disguised figure was distracted, he could get closer, and jump in on the scene. Plus, a part of him did sort’ve hope Peppino would get beaten to a pulp, even if it was embarrassing that the cowboy couldn’t do it himself.
Bomb in hand, Mr. Incognito tossed his explosive towards the two Italians; “Peppino! Be careful!” Gustavo shouted.
Peppino was ready, and with surprising accuracy, he caught the Noise bomb in his hand. He drew his arm back for a moment before shifting all of his body weight forward, swinging the bomb right back towards its user.
Elegantly, the trespasser jumped and dodged the bomb as it burst into an abrupt explosion upon the ground. While the Noise’s bombs were designed to only damage a small amount of surface area, getting hit by one of them was no joke; the Vigilante recalled a story Noisette once told, of an accident within NTV Studio where an unsuspecting employee had been standing in the wrong spot in the wrong time. At least Mr. Incognito here was fast enough to avoid a possible hospital trip.
Springing out from the souls of the outlaw’s shoes were distinct roller skate wheels, and Peppino was barely given a second to react as Mr. Incognito skated towards him at accelerating speed. The wheels weren’t designed for such a sandy terrain, but the speedster kept his legs steady as he circled around his targets, disorientating them before he unleashed his attack!
Somehow hidden away behind the back of the perpetrator was a large, brightly colored mallet, decorated in shades of pink and yellow, and Mr. Incognito held the heavy-looking weapon with his hands effortlessly, swinging it violently towards Peppino. From the sidelines, it was awfully clear to the watching Vigilante that Mr. Incognito had a set target, disregarding Gustavo and his pet if they weren’t a direct threat to him at a given time.
Though Peppino tried his hardest, his feet weren’t quick enough to avoid his oncoming fate as he was suddenly struck right in the face with Mr. Incognito’s mallet, sending him face-first into the sand.
“Peppino!!” the shorter Italian cried in horror before his face suddenly shifted to one of anger. Wasting no time, Gustavo threw his companion at the cloaked figure in hopes to disarm him, but his effort was pointless as Brick was hit by the hammer like a croquet ball, tumbling and rolling back to his sender, knocking them both to the ground with a dramatic
thud
.
The Vigilante was… impressed! Sure, Peppino was already rushing back onto his feet, but Mr. Incognito had still managed to accomplish so much in so little time. It may have been three against one, but that sole attacker was doing astonishingly well. The cowboy would be lying if he said he wasn’t in awe of this man’s swift moves.
Maybe… the Vigilante didn’t need to arrest this outlaw here. If this guy was actually able to defeat Peppino, then they could carry him off to Pizzahead, and Mr. Incognito could be pardoned of his past and current transgressions. The boss would do
anything
to get his hands on Peppino, so it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination. Sure, Mr. Incognito was a trespasser, on the Vigilante’s land no less, but he was doing everyone in the tower a favor right now by making Peppino eat the dirt. As much as the Vigilante would’ve normally sworn off the idea of accepting help from a criminal, his hate for Peppino was far more passionate. That, and his newfound admiration for this mystery fellow…
Before the Vigilante could collect this thoughts further, Mr. Incognito pulled out a small device from the sleeve of his trenchcoat, pressing the bright red button which appeared to be the device's only notable feature. However, before everyone's eyes, the little remote was reconstructed into a contraption with jets - the Vigilante realized the strange thing was a jetpack!
Mr. Incognito placed the straps around his shoulders, and with an energetic kick of his feet, was lifted several feet into the air. From there, Peppino and Gustavo would have no easy time combating him. From above, the flying delinquent tried to drop even more Noise bombs onto Peppino and his friend, his aim increasing in accuracy as each second passed. The risk of getting hit was steadily getting worse, and so Brick the giant rat was having to serve as a shield against the explosives for his more soft, vulnerable companions. “Brick” was certainly a fitting name for the thing.
Unfortunately for the Vigilante, not only did being airborne make bomb attacks especially easy, but it also meant the pilot got a direct view of everything from above, including the cheese curd’s not very subtle cowboy hat on top of his hat from where he stood several feet away. As soon as the flying Mr. Incognito had spotted it, his concentration on staying steady in the air weakened, a sudden hesitancy to his movements and actions.
That was the opening Peppino needed. As another bomb fell to the ground from a distracted toss from its owner, Peppino ran with precision and parried the bomb as it nearly struck his temple, sending it right back up into the sky.
By the time the cowboy realized what was going to happen, it was far too late. He yelled in a gruff voice, “Look out!”
Mr. Incognito didn’t have time to react. He tried to swerve away, but the soaring Noise bomb crashed into the disguised figure’s knee, causing him to lose control over his jetpack. Like a defected rocket, Mr. Incognito crashed into the ground, jumping and rolling away just far enough to avoid the explosion of his propelling device. So much for his escape plan.
He gripped his knee in pain, clenching his teeth before looking up… Mr. Incognito had landed right in front of the Vigilante.
Slowly, Mr. Incognito lifted himself by his elbows, and gazed at the cowboy that had distracted him previously. Although his face was still hidden by the deep, overwhelming shadow of his hat, the outlaw managed to lock eyes with the small bounty hunter, expression weary and concerned. What was only a few seconds of staring felt like hours, the cheese slime plagued by a sense of familiarity when he looked into those eyes, before being pulled back into the scene.
Peppino was sprinting right towards them both, likely even more on edge than previously now that the Vigilante had been added to the picture. Milliseconds flashed by as Peppino raced towards the two at Mach speed, his eyes trained on the cowboy. It was so fast, the crazed runner would’ve definitely struck the poor cheese slime, if not for Mr. Incognito’s interference.
Just as swiftly as Peppino ran, Mr. Incognito had jumped from the ground, his hand striking Peppino like a boxing glove, making him plummet into the sandy floor, having missed the Vigilante by only a few inches. It all happened so fast, and the cowboy's nerves were on high edge, every movement an instinct, but there in that moment, he was frozen in place, utterly amazed by Mr. Incognito’s fighting spirit.
The Vigilante turned away, studying their place in this battle, if they stood a fighting chance if they worked together. With Peppino knocked down, Gustavo had once again risen to the challenge, riding upon his large, hungry beast of a rodent. It occurred to the Vigilante how easily things could go wrong if he, a cheese slime, chose to tango with a rat of all creatures. Could he really depend on this cloaked outlaw to take care of yet another fight?
As his defender stood with an aura of confidence beside him, the Vigilante could see the subtle shaking of Mr. Incognito’s injured leg… The cowboy was reminded of his own current healing injuries, and he knew he couldn’t be as flexible or as durable as he would hope in this situation. Peppino had been thoroughly weakened, but the greedy glare of the large rat and the furious gripping of Gustavo’s fists told the Vigilante this fight wouldn’t end well if things continued. He was so
close
to getting Peppino locked up for good, but he couldn’t push the brave Mr. Incognito into hurting himself further.
The cowboy let out a heavy sigh. His grandpa had always taught him to learn his limits. The Vigilante couldn’t afford to lose another fight, to become even more battered and bruised, but admitting defeat even when provided aid from someone else was more than debilitating to his ego. If this had been a lone fight, he likely would’ve pushed on, his soul too stubborn to give up, but when a second party’s safety was involved, someone who his heart told him must be a good person for some strange reason… The cowboy found it harder to take risks he knew were stupid.
Drawing out both of his guns, the cowboy’s cheese-loaded uzi was aimed towards Gustavo and Brick, while his pistol was pointed right against laying Peppino’s head, a threat the Italian took seriously.
“Now, I don’t know why y’all were fightin’ on my property, but I’ll be havin’
none
of it,” the Vigilante grunted.
“
H-He
started it!” Peppino stuttered, his eyes shooting daggers at the mysterious Mr. Incognito. “W-We were just-a here to collect more-a Toppin’s! We-a d-didn’t-”
The cowboy interrupted him by pressing his gun into Peppino’s skin, signaling to him to keep his mouth shut as the Vigilante spat out, “I don’t care
who
started it. I won’t be havin’ trespassers on
my
land. I see you here again, and I’ll put a bullet in that thick skull of yers.”
It was a bluff, at least mostly. The cowboy had no intention of spilling blood so ruthlessly on his soil, but he wanted to make sure he properly put the fear of God into Peppino’s heart. Maybe then, the bastard would leave him alone from now on.
With an iron grip, the Vigilante grabbed ahold of Peppino’s shoulder, forcing him to sit up. Almost immediately, the Italian scurried away towards Gustavo, who lifted him up with strong hands holding his friend’s arms. Peppino was visibly shaking, his left eye beginning to swell and bruise, and his arms were littered with scrapes and marks.
“Get on, now,” the Vigilante commanded. “And don’t come back.”
Gustavo looked so enraged, the cheese slime as nearly worried he would press on, but Peppino’s whimpering glare as he awkwardly sat on top of Brick easily convinced the shorter Italian to drop the conflict. It seemed the Vigilante wasn’t the only one interested in keeping a partner safe.
Dangling a small cheese in front of the rat’s twitching nose, Gustavo led Brick away from the Vigilante, riding towards the portal door they must’ve used to enter his territory. As they left, the cowboy could hear Gustavo give Peppino words of encouragement and a promise of a nice dinner after they were all patched up. It was a shame that such a sweet little man was aiding that speedrunning lunatic.
Vigert’s attention on the leaving party was redirected on Mr. Incognito, who was limping in the same direction as the Italian pair; the disguised figure’s arms were crossed, hands gripping his sleeves as his adrenaline likely was wearing away and the pain was kicking in. Of course… He too was a trespasser, but the bounty hunter’s stern threats weren’t meant to be directed towards this fellow!
“Hey, wait!” Mr. Incognito turned around to face the Vigilante, seemingly surprised by his command. Still, the trenchcoat-wearing criminal stood and waited for the cheese slime to continue.
Vigi cleared his throat, trying to find his words as best he could. “You sure did a number on that Peppino… I’m mighty impressed. You don’t see fightin’ skills like that everyday.
“I… I may got a bounty over yer head, but… heh, I don’t think I got the strength to tie you up even if I wanted to. But no more trespassin’, ya hear? You did me a favor by kickin’ his ass, so I’d hate to have to round you up over a bounty.”
Mr. Incognito paused before nodding, and the cowboy could’ve sworn he saw a hint of a smile on that shadowed face of his. With a tip of his hat as a fair well, the outlaw now continued to walk away, exiting the desert lands. Vigert couldn’t help but wonder who that guy must be, and if he’d see him again. It wasn’t exactly clear why Mr. Incognito had brought himself out here to antagonize Peppino Spaghetti, but the Vigilante concluded that the Italian had a way of making enemies. It wasn’t too surprising.
He knew he probably shouldn’t let the disguised man get off so easily, but something in his gut told him he’d made the right choice. Usually, his gut only warned him of people to be alarmed by, seemingly charming people with harmful intentions… Never before had his intuition told him someone was
good
on default. But the way he had defended the cheese slime so bravely, that brief eye contact they’d shared… It spoke to the cowboy’s soul in a way he didn’t quite understand.
Well, if the cowboy had been tired before, he was exhausted now. Maybe later, he’d bring himself to the Noise, prod him with questions even though he was sure he’d get nothing but irritation back, but for now, he didn’t need answers. He needed that nap.
~~~~~
Tucked in the warmth of his blanket and basket, a young Vigert looked up at his grandfather who had placed him there so lovingly. Across the room, Snotty was already softly snoring, ever so tired from the day’s wild adventures. It would’ve been so easy for the little cheese slime to dose off just as quickly, but something pressed him to stay awake.
“Grandpap?”
Old John E. Cheese looked at his dear grandson through his glasses, surprised he hadn’t fallen asleep already. “Yes, boy?”
“...What do I do if… if somethin’ goes wrong, and you’re not around?” Hearing such a question come out of such a cute kid was troubling for the older cheese slime, but he also just knew how Vigert could be. He’d always been mature for his age, but it also meant he looked at negatives much more frequently than anyone else. While other slimes simply played and wandered mindlessly, Vigi was always observant, careful in every action. It made him bright and articulated, but stubborn and constantly suspicious of everything.
With a gentle touch, John rubbed his grandson’s cheek as he looked at him, studying his face as he answered, “No matter if I’m with you or not, I trust you to do the right things. Trust your gut, Vigert, it’ll lead you when you’ve got nothin’ else.”
The older cheese curd planted a kiss on the young cheese slime’s forehead, even though Vigert’s face was one of confusion and frustration. That wasn’t the answer he’d been looking for.
“But- that’s not-”
“We can’t predict everything, boy. Sometimes, we’ve got to let the water flow and follow the stream. You’re smarter than you realize, Vigert… You’ve proven to me how intelligent and brave you are. If you or someone else is ever in danger, you come to me, but if you have to handle things yourself, I know you’ll do a wonderful job, just as you did with Snotty.”
Wide, childish eyes looked up at John, trying to absorb his words, but it was clear in his little face just how tired and sleepy he was. The farmer couldn’t help but chuckle, watching his grandson attempt to stay attentive when his small body yearned for sleep.
“Follow yer heart and yer gut. I know you’re gonna grow up to be such a brave man one day… Now get some sleep, you silly kiddo,” John whispered, using his hand to lean the future vigilante into his pillow. The two shared a glance, and a smile, before the tiny cheese slime’s eyes closed peacefully.
~~~~~
Evening had fallen upon the now quiet Oregano Desert. The Vigilante had awoken from his nap a bit later than he had wanted, but he did feel much better having rested for a few hours.
Exiting his bed basket, the cowboy rubbed his eyes and crawled through his cabin, his mind still lingering on the day’s events. He wished he had asked more questions. He wished he hadn’t just acted like a bystander. He wished he had helped Mr. Incognito more, he should’ve done more for him, he should’ve at least said thanks!
Absentmindedly turning on the lights in his cabin to combat the easing darkness, the Vigilante’s eyes were once again brought back to the portrait of his late grandfather on the wall. It felt less intimidating now. He could just imagine what his grandpa would say right now; “
Stop overthinking things, Vig! You’re stressin’ me out just listenin’ to ya!
” The lighthearted thought made the cowboy smirk.
He wondered to himself if his grandfather would be proud of him. It was a thought that, admittedly, came to his head a lot. Once his primary family had passed on, Vigert had been aimless for months. It’d been several years now, but still his grandpa never left his mind. Would he have thought Vigi had gone too easy on someone he was supposed to collect for a bounty? Submitted too easily to Peppino’s companions? Or would he have admired his choice to listen to his gut, and let Mr. Incognito go?
The answer should’ve been straight forward. Of course John would’ve been proud of his grandson for choosing what he felt was right. But Vigert, always so stuck in his head, convinced himself he must’ve disappointed the spirit of that old farmer. Nothing was ever good enough by his own, self-imposed standards.
Hopefully the Vigilante would get to see Mr. Incognito again, he could ask the questions he should’ve asked in the moment. He hoped he hadn’t scared the poor fella off. Peppino, on the other hand?
Well, if his story about collecting extra Toppin’s was true, that meant he was saving up to rent a boss gate from that Mr. Stick guy. That meant Peppino was preparing to fight the Noise…
Pouring himself a shot of whiskey, the cowboy drank the throat-burning beverage. He knew who he'd visit tonight.