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The millisecond Agent Three of the New Squidbeak Splatoon reached their apartment, they flung themselves on the bed. Sure, they were exhausted, but it was more than that.
Agents One and Two are the Squid Sisters. They'd been talking to the Squid Sisters over the headset for the past MONTH.
Three couldn't focus on that when dealing with the Octobot King, aside from a brief uncontrolled thrill that shook all their tentacles when they started singing Calamari Inkantation. Three took care of that with a ten-second solo squid party, which they prayed the Squid Sisters didn't actually notice.
Three rolled over, giggling to themself, and flung their limbs like starfish, both to shake them out and stretch because squit were they gonna be sore tomorrow and just—the glee had to go somewhere. Sunday, they'd get to actually meet their fellow agents in person. Tomorrow, they rest. And then Friday—
Three sat up in horror, about sixteen muscles protesting because Friday was the Squid Sisters concert.
They couldn't fan out over the Squid Sisters if they're coworkers! There had to be a law or something, that'd be seriously unfresh. But Three had a backstage pass. They could get an autograph after the concert. They can't give that up!
Three grabbed one tentacle and chewed on the end as they thought. There had to be a way to get that autograph without the Squid Sisters knowing who they were. And then, when they meet in person as agents for the first time on Sunday, Three will be cool as a sea cucumber; calm as a sleepy starfish; fresh as, well, the Squid Sisters themselves.
Or almost as fresh. No one was as fresh as the Squid Sisters.
***
Concert Rules
In order to ensure the safety of our performers and all attendees of the venue, anyone attending our performances agrees to...
Three skimmed through all the info about presenting tickets, staying in your section, no outside food or drink... there it was. Updated that morning, even.
To ensure the safety of our performers, no outfits or costumes that omit identity shall be permitted. This includes mascot costumes and other clothes with excess padding or the ever-popular gillyweed suit. And yes, we are also excited for the return of The Great Zapfish, but zapfish costumes are also not permitted.
Well.
Three glanced behind them, at the fin arm-loops and gills and giant oversized head with holes for looking out through the nostrils.
There went that plan.
***
“What do you mean, you don't sell the power mask?” Three demanded. “I need that power mask!”
Annie flinched, but Moe swam in their face. “Need or no need, bub, that thing is hot . You want it? Be prepared to do some legwork.”
Three gulped and took a step back. Moe was way too intimidating. “You—you mean I have to talk to that—” their voice cracked, and they mentally scolded themself, because that was seriously unfresh. “The alleyway guy?”
Moe snorted and swam closer, backing Three up until Three was pressed against the display by the door. “You want that, you've gotta earn it, kid,” he said. “And lemme tell you, the squid who sells it? You'd best be ready for a kraken hard time.”
Three decided they didn't want to know.
***
When Three reached the venue, the ticket taker looked them up and down. “So you know, unless you have a medical permit, you won't be allowed backstage with the gas mask on,” the lobster said. She clacked her claws on the ticket, marking it, and handed it back. “It's too easy for someone to get away with things and meld into the crowd after if we can't see their face. It doesn't go with the rest of your outfit, anyhow: you're all dressed up with that shirt and tie, and those great blue slip-ons.”
Three ducked their head and scrambled for a lie. “But I can't be seen by the Squid Sisters with acne! ” That seemed logical. No secret agent fansquid here, not them, nope.
The guard's eyes softened. “Tell ya what,” she said. “Concert's not for another three hours; you're earlier than a hungry anglerfish. Go home, get some make-up—yes, make-up, if you don't shift it won't wear off—and come on back.”
Three walked away in shame. Once outside, they stuck one tentacle in their mouth and chewed it as they thought. Was there anything they could do to go unrecognized?
***
The small backpack made it with them through security, and the concert was such a bop . Sometimes, they were sure Callie was speaking directly to them—which was silly, no way she could see them clearly with all the bright lights on stage. But then it was time to use their backstage pass and go meet them.
It was time.
Three opened their backpack. First came the fake contacts; they decided on fire red for this. Next, on went the snorkel mask. They adjusted the snorkel dangling down until it wouldn't get tangled, and then pushed their tentacles inside the blowfish bell hat they bought just for the occasion. When they checked in the mirror, they grinned in pure triumph. They barely recognized themselves; no way would Callie and Marie!
Then they ran to the door with the guards around it, and pulled out their ticket. That same lobster clapped a claw on their shoulder. “Knew you could cover it up, squiddo,” she said. “But... oh, you squids. Is this what's considered 'fresh' now?”
Nope. But that was okay. Callie and Marie would never know it was them being this seriously unfresh. Not with their tentacles hidden and their eye color so changed, and the mask! That was genius.
The tour of the dressing rooms was the freshest thing ever, and they almost bounced as they asked if that's where Callie did her make-up, what sort of sodas did Marie keep in the mini fridge, oh squids that bulletin board was covered in fan art people sent them, COULD I TOUCH THE MICROPHONE?
Yes it was, squiddycola, they took the best art home with them, and no.
When the tour was over, they got to meet the Squid Sisters. Callie and Marie. Three took a moment to stop before the door and took a deep breath, in, then out. Their tentacles were secure up in their hat, their diving mask hadn't slipped. It was time to meet their heroes.
“Other person's left,” said the guard escorting them. She pressed a claw to their back and pushed them forward.
There they were. Marie, leaning back in her chair, elbow propped on the table, sucking soda through a straw; Callie, seated next to her, scribbling in a notebook. They both looked up when Three entered, and Callie's grin was wider than any they'd ever seen. “Hey! Welcome to the autograph room, sit down, how'd you enjoy the concert?”
Marie sat up. Her smirk made them think of angels. “First time, squiddo? I'm surprised to—”
Callie elbowed her. “Ignore her, she gets cranky after the first five meet-and-greets.”
Three took the free chair. They stuttered their way through their name, and saying how much they loved the concert, and they loved the Squid Sisters, while the two of them exchanged looks.
“Almost been five minutes,” Marie commented at last. “Come on, squiddo, let's take a pic together.”
Three would deny squealing until the end of time. Callie and Marie stood up, called in the guard, and told Three to hand over their phone. Callie and Marie handed over their phones, too—Three knew they were gonna delete the pictures as soon as they were taken, they just wanted to be nice, make it seem like this was as special for them as it was for their fans. It worked.
The two moved on either side of Three. “We'll do our 'stay fresh' pose on the count of three,” said Callie, “and we want you to pose with us!”
“Any pose you do will be fine,” said Marie.
Three couldn't stop smiling. The lobster counted to three, and they jumped and crossed their arms as they flung them in the exaggerated arcs of the Squid Sister's classic Stay Fresh pose.
The lobster grinned as she handed back their phones. Three checked their picture: perfect. “All right, your visit's over,” she said. “Come on, squiddo. Time to get out of here.”
“Bye, Callie,” Three said, still beaming. “Bye, Marie.”
“See ya, squiddo,” said Marie, but Callie grabbed them and pulled them into a super tight hug, and when she let go and shooed Three out, Three couldn't stop smiling.
Best. Day. Ever.
***
Three straightened their hero suit before going down the drain. Time to meet their fellow agents. They had to remember: right now, Callie and Marie were not the Squid Sisters. They couldn't afford to fan out.
Cap'n was waiting for them. “Afternoon, squiddo,” he said, tapping his bamboozler on the ground. “Didja sleep okay?”
No. Three was too excited after the concert. They did fall asleep eventually, but woke up wired , and played an hour of turf trying to make that wear off. “I did okay, Cap'n. Are Agents One and Two here yet? I'm looking forward to finally meeting them.” Good. That sounded good. Profreshional, collected, calm. Not a fansquid, not them.
Cap'n chuckled. “I'll introduce you in a minute. I've got a new photo on my board that I want you to see.”
Another conspiracy? Or, no, maybe Cap'n found another old one. He had plenty of Callie and Marie when they were just inkblobs, pictures that Three was privileged to see. They didn't need Cap'n to encourage any further before they walked over to the board and examined it and... oh no.
Dead center of the board. Callie and Marie posing in their Squid Sister outfits. Between them was an inkling, jumping to be taller, with red eyes and a diving mask, tentacles shoved into their hat, posing with arms crossed.
Oh squit.
“We thought it'd be great to keep a picture of the first time we met,” said Callie behind them, and they whirled. While Three was staring at the picture, Callie and Marie had come out of the cabin.
Three's mouth opened and closed while they tried to come up with words.
Marie didn't help. “That's quite an outfit you've got on,” she said, nodding at the pic.
Finally, Three found words. “I—I didn't want you to recognize me,” they mumbled, looking at the ground. “You—you shouldn't have to work with someone who, who... you must think I'm so unfresh.”
Someone threw an arm over their shoulders. Three flinched and looked up an inch to see Callie grinning at them. “You're adorable,” she said, and gave them a squeeze. “And you're absolutely fresh.”
Callie thought they were fresh? “Really?”
Of course, squiddo,” said Marie, waving one hand. “You're one of our fans. And you were considerate enough to consider the whole 'may not wanna be fanned over' thing. That gives you bonus points.”
“Come on inside,” Callie said, steering them; Marie followed. “We've got crabby cakes. It's gonna be a party.”
Three couldn't believe it. This was the best, the best, the BEST ever. But... “If, um, if you knew it was me... can we take down that picture? I look stupid.”
Callie paused and looked back at Marie.
Marie flung her own arm over Three's shoulders, on top of Callie's. “No,” she said. “In fact, we're gonna hang onto that. Show it to every agent who joins after you for the rest of forever.”
Oh no.
Still, as Three was led inside, they couldn't help but feel things could've been a lot worse.