Chapter Text
"OUT."
...Was about the last thing you heard before fleeing that accursed, purple hellscape. Boy, was that a getaway or what? You sure taught those ragamuffins a thing or two about BRAWLIN'. Nevertheless, you leave the large... castle? You suspect it to be one, anyways. You leave before venturing out into the purple landscape outstretched before you.
who... who were you again?
most people don't really know your name, you suppose. Most people either refer to you by various descriptors and adjectives. Nonetheless, your name is STANFORD, named after your very own father. You take a liking to PIPES, as well as BUSINESS ATIRE. You also happen to have a penchant for GOOFS and GAFFS, as taken from your parents. You have found yourself in a very interesting... realm? Planet? The whole place seems weirdly familiar to you, but you simply cannot put your finger on it. You wander around, seeing many odd, alien-like creatures wandering about. They seem to snarl at you, but that's about the worst they do. Even if they were to attack, however, you know that they would be very swiftly... SWEPT away. You feel one point of PRANKSTERS GAMBIT fizzle away out of shame due to that truly horrible pun. Shame on you.
You wander around fairly aimlessly, gawking and admiring the very intricate and clearly handmade designs that run amongst the walls and buildings. They all seem to be very well crafted. You must admit, you are impressed. The whole place reminded you a lot of Rome, except someone REALLY liked the color purple. You find it a bit drab, but it really isn't your place to say.
Then, you saw it. Oh my god. is... is that a tailor? Finally, a place for one such as yourself! you'd be able to discuss the intricacies of hat repair, the benefits of pipe-based smoking, and- Oh. They're closed. Welp. Not much to do now. You take the very little amount of tobacco you have stored in your wallet, and light up. Ah, that hits the... the.... hm... wait.. what kind of...
You look at the packaging of the tobacco again.
"JOSEPHS BRAND JOLLY GOOD SLEEPYTIME 'BACCO! FOR TRUE PIPESTERS LOOKING TO LIGHT UP THE NIGHT BEFORE HEADIN' OFF TO BED!"
Ah. This... that's not good. You.. you lay down in a small alley next to the store. at least its.. its comfy.. back... h..here...
Suddenly, you awake in a dimly lit apartment, from the looks of it. You are housed very snugly on a couch. Surprisingly, this place isn't purple. Wow.
You uncurl yourself from the cat-like position you were in and stand up, brushing yourself off, and checking your pockets to make sure everything was where it needed to be. Yep, everything's in... wait, this isn't your suit jacket! this one is a fashionable Midnight Black, a color so dark that even the text must be emboldened, and has the emblem of a Diamond on it. You do not remove it, however, as you believe it contrasts well with your polo, as well as your... wow, whoever gave you this outfit went beyond, you even have a new, sharp looking tie. Not only that, but your hat is the same shade. Either way, it would be rather rude to just take off an outfit some odd stranger who may or may not have kidnapped you made for you.
You wander around for a bit, stumbling amongst the various clutter, before tripping, stumbling, and almost falling on several floor knives. an outstretched hand supports your stumbling body, before switching on the lights.
"You're awake. 'bout time. Right, up with you then, come with me."
From the looks of things, the rather distinguished gentleman seems to be wearing the same attire you are stuck in. You suppose he was the one who dressed you this way. He leads you to a dining room with a large square table in the middle, before flicking on a dingy, dark light, and ushering you to sit down, as he takes his seat.
"You don't look Prospitian, but you also sure as hell don't look Dersite, either. That makes you an unaccounted for trespasser. So, where exactly are you from."
You think for a moment. You could say earth, but that might just sound silly. you say the first thing that pops into your mind.
"UM... THE TAILOR."
"Well, sure, I guess, I did find you there, but you were specifically in a DERSE tailor, whilst not even being a carapician. You're all... Fleshy."
These words basically go in one ear and out the other. Derse? Carapicain? Prospitian? this is all so confusing, so you do the one thing you know how to. You shrug, pull out your pipe, and ask if he wants to smoke.
"I... to hell with it, sure. You need tobacco?"
You nod and he fetches his pipe out of a large chest, as well as some smoking tobacco, the label reads "JOSEPH BRAND JOLLY GOOD DAYTIME GETOGETHER 'BACCO!"
The two of you smoke for a while. You happen to catch the man staring at your chin momentarily.
"I NEVER HAPPENED TO CATCH YOUR NAME. FINE SIR."
"Me. Why, I'd happen to be the Draconian Dignitary, Agent to the throne, an-"
"YOU GOT A SIMPLER NAME, SON?
The dignitary seemed a bit behooved by this, but stated "Droog. Diamonds Droog. And now your name."
"MIGHT BE ONE OF THE FIRST TIMES SOMEONES ASKED ME THAT, FELLA. THE NAME'S STANFORD."
You outstretch a hand
"PLEASURE TO MEET YOU, MR. DROOG."
He claims the hand, as they lock into a very firm, yet inviting handshake. Droog notices just how... seemingly smooth the outsiders hand was. Not a single bump, ridge, or callous. He tipped his head in affirmation.
"YOU MIND TELLING ME WHAT I'M DOING HERE?"
"Found you passed out near the tailor, you seemed to be almost frozen over, so I took you home and got you someplace warm so I could interrogate you, but now, well, seems its turned into a little chat, now hasn't it."
"I SUPPOSE IT HAS."
The 2 sat there momentarily, puffing away, seemingly admiring each other's stylistic features, Stan noticed just how seemingly rugged Droog was, though he wore seemingly ridiculously regalwear, he feels as though there's something lying behind those eyes.
And, as for Droog, he noticed how... Well, seemingly perfect Stan truly was. every single feature, from how his chin hasn't a single hair, nor nick on it, indicating perfect shaving. The clothes he was wearing before were very well taken care of, as well. His pipe was made from beautiful marble, something even Droog had not seen before.
They looked into each others eyes for a moment.
This... This was going to be a long day.