Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Behind Caine, a red curtain opens to dramatically reveal the title of today’s adventure: “Super Star Sticker Chart”.

A giant, gameshow-style grid descends from above. Trumpets blare and confetti bursts out of thin air. Alongside childish doodles of happy suns and sparkly rainbows, each of their names are listed at the top of blank columns.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Pomni says dryly as she drags a gloved hand down her face.

“Nope!” Caine answers helpfully and begins to explain. “Throughout the day, you all will need to earn stickers by showing off your good behavior.”

The rest of the circus is not nearly as enthusiastic as their ringleader on stage.
They look at each other apprehensively.

Clapping and forcing a smile, Ragatha was the first to break the awkward silence. “I think it’s kind of cute! Positive reinforcement, right?”

“Gold stars, huh?” Jax grins as he mulls it over. “About time someone recognized my genius.”

“What if I accidentally do something bad? I always do something bad…” Gangle mumbles, anxiously hugging herself.

Zooble crosses their mismatched arms. “This has ‘psychological warfare’ written all over it.”

Kinger may not know what he’s getting into, but salutes anyway.

“Let’s hurry, that drop-off line can be a nightmare!” Caine opens a shining portal and shoves everyone inside. “And remember: Be kind, be nice, and be better than everyone else!”

Stepping out of the digital wormhole, they are greeted by a pastel landscape. Cartoon clouds drift lazily across the ceiling. The colored walls are plastered with motivational posters like "Sharing is Super!" and "Teamwork Makes the Dream Work!" The air smells like applesauce and crayon wax. A glockenspiel version of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” plays on a loop.

This place is unnaturally cheerful… That’s never a good sign.

Pomni scans the area. She’s immediately suspicious of every crayon, cushion, and cubby.

Only part of the room has a tiled floor. There’s an oversized sink and a set of cabinets pushed against the closest wall. Accompanied by two floor easels, a long table in front is surrounded by brightly colored, blocky chairs. On the opposite side, the tall frame of a house stands next to a series of shelved bins. Separated by a low bookshelf, the back of the room contrasts with the primary color theme of everything else. With beanbags and pillows resting underneath a small canopy, it almost seems cozy.

In the middle of it all, the circus stands on a large, circular, rainbow colored rug.

Pomni feels her nerves getting the best of her. All she can think about is the worst-case scenario. And given the boundless nature of their adventures, that scenario is very very very not good.

“That thumb taste good, hm? You want a binky too?”

Snapping out of her thoughts, Pomni removes the tip of her gloved finger from her mouth. She doesn't remember how it got there.

“Leave her alone, Jax!” Ragatha shouts, her voice an octave higher than normal. Did Caine autotune their voices?

Pomni looks up at the bickering duo. Their voices were not the only things Caine changed.

Jax had lost the majority of his height, standing a few inches below Ragatha. Now longer and floppier, it seemed he had less control over his ears too. Ragatha had also lost a few inches. With the addition of ruffled straps and extra tulle in her skirt, her patchwork dress almost resembled a tutu now.

Pomni turns to examine the others in the room.

Albeit both now had childlike proportions, Gangle’s and Zooble’s appearances didn’t change a whole lot. Kinger looked much the same, aside from the absence of his cross headpiece. He now came across more as a pawn than a king.

Pomni notices her outfit was modified too. Her puffy shorts had morphed into a short, flowy, yellow skirt. Although she's still wearing gloves, Pomni can tell her jester outfit is much softer than before.

“Yeah, no thanks. I’ll give myself up to the Gloinks before I pretend this Care Bear gulag is anything but a trap,” Zooble deadpans, plopping down cross-legged onto the colorful rug.

“Well, at least the Gloink Queen isn’t here. In fact, I don’t see anything that would attack us immediately.” Upon seeing Zooble’s noncommittal shrug, Gangle’s self-doubt creeps in. “Right?”

“I don’t see anything like that either.” Kinger says for an entirely different reason. He is staring at a 9-piece floor puzzle with the intensity of Sherlock Holmes during a particularly peculiar case. There’s one piece missing.

The missing piece is not more than a foot away from Kinger. Zooble sighs and moves to hand it to him. “Here, try this.”

Kinger carefully places it into the center of the puzzle, completing the picture of a Monarch butterfly.

/DING!/

All eyes turn to Caine's Super Star Sticker Chart. Below Zooble’s name, a glowing golden star had appeared.

“No way that counts.” Zooble squints at the board like it had personally betrayed them.

“I mean… you did help Kinger?” Ragatha offers.

“We’re being conditioned like toddlers! This is emotional manipulation wrapped in glitter glue.”

A saccharine jingle plays from above.

“The faster you earn those stickers, the faster you get to go home!” Caine announces over the intercom. “For now, it’s time for creative expression! Head to the Craft Table, my little glue-gobbling glitter goblins! And don’t forget: collaboration is a great way to earn those stars!”

“I hate this adventure.” Zooble mutters.

Chapter Text

The cast trudges toward the craft table with the collective enthusiasm of a funeral procession. Stubby, plastic chairs scrape across the tiled floor as they take their seats. From pipe cleaners and popsicle sticks to every shade of glitter ever conceived by marketing demons, Caine had conjured plenty of supplies for them.

Ragatha tries to rally the rest of the toddler-sized troop. Grabbing lengths of string and a bulky container of chunky, multicolored beads, she hopes her smile doesn’t look forced.  “Let’s try to make the best of this situation. It’s been a while, but I think I remember how to make a bracelet with this stuff. Want me to show you, Pomni?”

/DING!/

A gold star now glows under Ragatha’s name on the Sticker Chart. She beams. “We’ll be out of this place in no time!”

Kinger, already at the far end of the table, seems genuinely pleased with the outcome of events. He pulls a pinecone out from his robes and douses it in glitter glue with utter glee. With a nonexistent tongue poking out in concentration, he begins affixing as many googly eyes to its surface as will stick.

Pomni averts her gaze, trying to solely focus on beading her bracelet. It’s very hard to ignore how similar Kinger’s primitive creation is to an abstraction.

Zooble eyes the box of dried pasta. The selection is suspiciously robust: conchiglie, farfalle, cellentani, rotelle. The shapes almost feel curated. It reminds them of their box of parts back at the circus. Zooble picks up a glue stick and mutters, “Might as well weaponize the boredom.”

“And what are you working on, Ribbons?”

Gangle flinches, arms curling protectively over her paper. “Nothing.”

“It sure looks like something.” Jax smirks. “I think Ragatha would be flattered to hear you-“

“Jax!” Gangle squeaks, desperately trying to cover up her furious blush.

Too easy. As he predicted, her reaction left the drawings unguarded. Jax effortlessly pulls them closer, but his smile of satisfaction instantly slips.

It’s not Gangle’s usual level of work. She’s an extraordinary artist. The deliberate details. The purposeful color positioning. The haunting emotional clarity of her expression. It all made Gangle’s artwork perfect blackmail material. But this?

This was… scribbles. Chaotic swaths of red, green, and purple, crossing and crashing with no structure. It wasn’t even abstract. It was impulsive!

Jax silently slides the paper back, watching Gangle return to it with the same intensity any other one of her pieces warranted. Did she realize what she was doing?

Then Ragatha screams.

It’s raw. Wordless. She lurches forward and upends the entire container of beads. They scatter across the table and spill onto the floor. The sea of plastic washes away her sad, tangled, unfinished bracelet.

The room freezes.

Even Ragatha looks stunned by the violence of her outburst. Red-faced and breathing heavily, she stares at the colorful wreckage. The illusion of normalcy had slipped clean off her face.

/DING!/

Everyone watches the gold star under Ragatha’s name fade from existence.

A moment passes. Her forced smile returns.

“Oh my goodness. I didn’t mean to do any of that!” Although they can hear the hollowness in her voice, Ragatha is back to her cheerful self. “I’ve made quite the mess.”

“Are you okay?” Pomni asks slowly.

“I’m fine! I’m fine. I just got a little… frustrated!” Ragatha laughs. It’s a short, bright, and brittle sound. “My hand-eye coordination is a lot worse than usual right now. Not exactly conducive to making bracelets, huh?”

She starts to clean, hands shaking.

Pomni kneels beside her. Neither speaks. They gather the scattered beads one by one, plastic clicking as it falls into its rightful container.

/DING!/

A gold star appears beneath each of their names.

Zooble holds up their finished macaroni art. Through various shapes and sizes of dried pasta, the manifesto reads: "DOWN WITH THE DAYCARE".

Jax groans in agreement and faceplants onto the table. “Let me know when snack time starts.”

A playful jingle chimes, high and cloying.

“You’re right on schedule, Jax!” Caine’s manic joy can be felt through the intercom. “Put away those projects and prepare for a fantastical feast!”

The copious amounts of craft supplies vanish. Their finished artwork is put on display: Kinger’s abstracted pinecone sits on top of a bookshelf like a cursed trophy. Gangle’s scribbled pages hang on the wall. Zooble’s macaroni rebellion rests behind the sink.

No one can confidently say what Caine manifests onto the table next is food.

Translucent gelatin cubes wobble in perfect synchronization. Goldfish crackers splash in small cups. Animal-shaped sandwiches are arranged on a plastic-wrapped tray. Pre-cut slices of glittery fairy bread dance on the table.

“Whoa.” Kinger marvels. “That juice box has a galaxy on the label. And it’s spinning!”

“Yeah.” Jax says, grabbing one. “Cool until it screams when you stab it.”

He pops the straw in. The juice box shrieks, brief and shrill. Jax calmly takes a sip.

Pomni eyes the sandwich creatures. She pokes one through the plastic. It growls. “Why does Caine’s idea of ‘food’ always feel like a dare?”

“Hold on! Isn’t sharing the number one example of good behavior?” Ragatha points out, watching Jax snatch two twisted marshmallows. “This could be a pretty easy way to get some stars.”

“I am sharing.” Jax argues. “I’m sharing the details of my culinary experience.” He bites into the sweet. His face contorts. “This tastes like bubblegum and regret.”

“Maybe we should, um… make a plan?” Gangle offers quietly, eyeing a bowl of fruit disturbingly decorated like clowns. “Like, divide it all up so it’s fair? No one gets in trouble.”

“Nothing about this is fair.” Zooble says, lifting a clown-pear and examining its frosting-painted face. “Look at this monstrosity.”

Kinger counts portions aloud. “Exactly one type of snack for each of us. Huh.”

“Alright then. I’m taking exactly one of each.” With surgical precision, Pomni carefully selects a portion of each snack and retreats to her chair. “See? Fair.”

/DING!/

“That wasn’t so hard.” Ragatha sits next to the jester with an identical set of unusual snacks. “I mean, if we all just take one—”

“ONE?!” Jax echoes, scandalized.

/DING!/

Jax clutches his second twisted marshmallow stubbornly, watching stars appear on the sticker chart. Everyone had something under their name. Everyone except him.

“Want to escape this nightmare?” Munching on their allocated amount, Zooble points at a marshmallow-less Gangle. “Give it up.”

“It’s mine.” He stomps his foot for emphasis.

“C’mon, Jax. Just play along.” Ragatha adds.

“I don’t want to play along!”

/DING!/

“We do not reward temper tantrums here, Jax! That’s Strike One!” Caine’s voice filters through the speakers. “A time out should help… 10 minutes sound appropriate?”

An invisible force drags Jax to a stool in the corner of the room. A cartoonish timer blinks into view. “What the [#@&!] is this? Caine!”

The stool spins, forcing Jax to face the wall, even if he tries to look away.

“Maybe 20 is better.” The timer adjusts itself.

No one comments on the drawn-out whine that follows in response.

Kinger blinks. “There are rules here?”

The jingle plays again, syrupy sweet and relentless.

“With that out of the way, it’s time to play! What are you pretending to be today?” Caine sounds like a gimmicky, children’s toy commercial. “Astronaut? Doctor? Mafia Boss? Fire Fighter? Our wonderful selection of costumes and props has a lot to offer!”

A dress-up trunk materializes on the central rug. Kinger nearly trips on his robes in his haste to reach it. The others follow at a more leisurely pace as Kinger rifles through the low-quality outfits and accessories.

After a moment of intense searching, he pulls out a crown. He examines it closely. While it was clearly a mass-produced, plastic replica, the crown had retained a level of grandeur. Surrounded by intricate gold trim, the light danced on its shiny gemstones. Judging by the texture, only the finest silk was used to create its velvet lining. The lack of tarnish on it confirmed that each arch and palisade had been well taken care of.

Kinger throws the crown over his shoulder. That’s not it. He returns to the trunk.

Scepter? No.

Palanquin? No.

Flask of holy water? Nope!

Royal Orb? That’s not what he’s looking for either.

“Are you uh…” Gangle watches the pile of discarded items around Kinger grow. “Are you looking for something specific?”

“Aha!” He waves a reflective orange vest. “I’m a safety inspector!”

She looks at all the childproofing in the room. “I don’t think we need one of those here.”

On the tip of her toes, Pomni peers into the Mary Poppins-inspired trunk next. Caine wasn’t kidding about their extensive options in outfits.

She pulls out a sandy tricorn. It smelled like seaweed.

“Hey! That’s from the Unsinkable Jewel! Looks like Caine shrunk some of the stuff from our previous adventures.” Ragatha explains and starts to dig through the trunk. “There should be a matching eye patch in here somewhere.”

Pomni got motion sick easily. The idea of an adventure on the high seas was not appealing to her in the slightest. “Is there a piece of digital lore from that I should be aware of?”

“The Unsinkable Jewel ended up at the bottom of the ocean, so... probably not?” She paused in thought before enthusiastically diving back into the trunk. “It did serve as a good introduction to swashbuckling though.”

Pomni doesn’t have a response as she jerks to the side, narrowly avoiding the plastic rapier thrown in her direction.

“Avast ye!”

“Ragatha, what are you doing?”

“What are ye doin’? Those pirates woulda skewered ya good alreaty. Get movin’, scallywag!” Her accent is horrendous, but she was committed to the bit. “Grab that there sword and show me ya won’t end up as shish kebab.”

Pomni struggles to hide her amusement. “Did they really sound like that?”

“Nay! They sounded worse!” Ragatha gestures wildly with her foam cutlass. “Salt makes ya throat dry and gunpowda from the cannons steals air from ya lungs. You’d be lucky ta hear ‘em over a gentle breeze let alone the howlin’ wind!”

“We betta put ‘em outta their misery and show ‘em the plank.” Pomni’s accent is just as bad, if not worse. Smiling, she grabs the rapier. “Then we’d ‘ave their bounties all to ourselves. Unless…” Pomni lunges towards Ragatha. “I skewer ya good first!”

Ragatha squeals. She parries the attack but the giggling jester is still on offense. So, Ragatha makes a break for it. Pomni takes chase, nearly running into Kinger.

“Slow down!” He yells. Kinger picks up his fallen clipboard and straightens his absurdly bright vest, grumbling. “And everyone thought there was no need for a safety inspector.”

“I got some more!” Gangle announces with an armful of wooden blocks.

Zooble nods in approval. “Add it to the pile.”

“Bend at the knees, Gangle!” Kinger advises. “No injuries on my watch!”

/DING!/

More stars were added to the sticker chart.

The wall’s construction was progressing as scheduled. At a little over 3 feet tall, it was the same height as Kinger. Their goal was to extend it from the rainbow rug to the edge of the tiled flooring. They were already two-thirds of the way there.

Zooble hopes the wall will be enough to keep out Caine and his insanity. Or at least slow him down.

Jax sulks onto the construction site. Kinger immediately secures a yellow hard hat to his head. 

“So…” Zooble wonders aloud as they stack wooden blocks. “What do you think Caine has in mind for when you get three strikes?”

It took every pixel of self-control in Jax’s tiny body not to cuss them out then and there. He takes a deep breath instead. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Watch your step!” Kinger cries.

Zooble doesn’t see the collision, only the wooden carnage left behind.

Fully decked out in pirate garb, Ragatha and Pomni lay atop a heap of wooden blocks.

Where did their wall go?

Apologies start tumbling out of their mouths. Zooble can’t hear them.

The wall was gone.

Their safety net. Their shield. Their last stand against Caine’s tricks.

It was all gone.

Zooble recognizes that the others are shouting, but can’t decipher what is being said.

Then, there is something on their shoulder. Through blurry vision, Zooble can see a ribbon and slowly follows it up to the soft smile on Gangle’s tragedy mask.

Gangle was here. She was not gone.

Zooble latches onto her, tears streaming down their face.

While she knew how hard it was to see something you spent so much time on then disappear in seconds, Gangle was not expecting such an extreme response from Zooble. She wanted to be supportive, but wasn’t prepared for this.

Gangle clears her throat loudly, gaining the attention of the rest of the circus. Her eyes flicker down to the crying Zooble in her arms. “We can always rebuild the wall, right?”

Pomni: “Yep!”

Ragatha: “Sure can.”

Kinger: “How convenient! There are plenty of materials already here to build a wall.”

Zooble hiccups. “It won’t be the same.”

“What if it’s better the second time around?” Jax proposes. Zooble doesn’t look convinced, so he continues. “In my very professional opinion, a couple of those plastic dinosaurs on the top would’ve greatly increased the cool factor.”

Ragatha scampers towards the lower shelves, pulling out each bin and rummaging inside. “I don’t see any dinosaur toys, but there are quite a few dragon ones.”

“Fire-breathing dinosaurs? That’s a bonus!” Jax affirms.

“Oh! Can they wear capes?” Kinger asks from inside the dress-up trunk.

The rabbit shrugs. “Sure.”

“These race cars can run around the perimeter.” Pomni says, dragging over the plastic tracks.

“Only the cars that have flames on the side.” Jax declares. “Anything else is a no go.”

/DING!/

“Huh… Validation.” Jax looks at the star under his name. “That’s new.”

“What do you think, Zooble?” Gangle asks. “Want to give the wall another go?”

Beside Gangle, Zooble watches the others work together.

Jax is managing the group. He provides unnecessary oversight and back-handed compliments as needed. Ragatha restacks the blocks, carefully lining up each one to ensure maximum stability. After removing the non-flaming cars, Pomni starts to lay down the racetrack. And thanks to Kinger, several dragons and a few stray farm animals now wear matching capes.

Zooble starts to think they never needed a wall in the first place.

That tinny jingle plays over the intercom.

Zooble takes it back. They’ll need a fortress to get through this adventure.

Chapter Text

Overhead, the fluorescent lights dim and reveal a sea of glow-in-the-dark star decals. The upbeat instrumentals are replaced by the delicate plinking of a music box. Lullabies play in endless, hypnotic repetition.

On his color-coordinated mat, Jax sprawls dramatically. His chest rises and falls with uneven, loud snores in an over-exaggeration of sleep.

Slowly, slyly, one golden eye cracks open.

It seems everyone else has drifted off to dreamland. Those idiots.

He turns his attention to the Sticker Chart across the room. Illuminated by the ceiling’s artificial starlight, it’s neat columns of stars shimmer with an almost holy brilliance. They twinkle with promise.

Jax grins, teeth sharp in the half-light. He remembers that rush. The little thrill when a star glowed under his name. Recognition. Reward. Approval he hadn’t even known he craved.

And now? He wants more.

“Operation: Sticker Heist is a go!”

Jax wriggles free of his blanket and tiptoes across the floor: past Ragatha, snoring daintily into her pillow; past Gangle, whose porcelain mask trembles with each fragile breath; past Pomni, frowning even in sleep.

He clambers onto the cubby beneath the chart, his shadow stretching over the sleeping figures of his teammates.

The chart looms before him. The golden start stickers glow like coins in a treasure chest.

“C’mon, come to papa.” Jax croons, pawing at the stickers above him. He tries not to dwell on the fact that, even on his tip toes, he really needs to stretch to reach them.

He plucks a star from Ragatha’s column and smooths it carefully onto his own.

A gold star. Under his name. His chest swells. He revels in it.

But the sticker's glow starts to flicker.

Jax’s ears droop. What’s wrong with his star?

And then it dims, the edges of the sticker curl off the wall.

He desperately tries to hold the star in place. “Wait! Hey, no, no, no-!”

DING!

“Strike Two, Jax!” Caine’s voice is deafening in the quiet room.

Groggy groans to ripple across the mats.

Yawning and stretching, Ragatha sits up. Her pigtails are a mess, loose and frazzled. “What happened?” She turns towards the source of the commotion. “Oh Jax…”

Zooble rubs their mismatched eyes. “He didn’t even last an hour. Impressive.”

“What did he do this time?” Pomni grumbles, pulling her blanket over her head. She’d much rather stay in her cozy cocoon than deal with whatever this is.

Before Jax can answer, an invisible force yanks him off the ground. Much like a kitten being picked up by the scruff of their neck, Jax dangles from the straps of his overalls. “Hey! Let me go! Hands off, you piece of $#!%.”

The invisible force is unaffected by his insults, effortlessly dragging Jax unceremoniously back to the familiar stool in the corner.

Caine tuts in disapproval. “That’s another twenty minutes!”

Jax was not expecting the Caine’s voice to sudden become so serious. For once, he struggled to come up with a snarky comeback before being deposited onto the stool. With a cartoon timer ticking down with theatrical cruelty above, Jax crosses his arms in a petulant display of defiance. He looks like the definition of a naughty preschooler.

Zooble clicks their nonexistent tongue. “You’d think he’d learn by now.”

“Learning has never been his thing.” Gangle mutters.

“I was never good at learning how to read clocks either.” Kinger adds.

The cheerful jingle chimes and the room reverts to its initial daytime setting. Pomni misses her blanket already.

“Rise and shine, my radiant little sunbeams!” Caine trills. “Time to stretch those legs!”

The ceiling lights become impossibly brighter, eventually morphing into a sunny sky. The shelves and cubbies melt and reform into multicolored jungle gym. The reading nook turns into a sandbox shaded by a large, overhanging oak tree. The rainbow rug beneath them darkens into a blacktop and the surrounding floor transforms into grass.

And overseeing it all, is Caine. Now sporting a neon vest and oversized sunglasses, he's perched on top of the jungle gym like a kindergarten god.

“Welcome to recess!” Caine is way too overenthusiastic for the usually, undesirable role of playground monitor. “Remember the rules: No running on the blacktop, no throwing sand, and, most importantly, no fighting!” His voice drops. “I’ll be watching.” His cheerful demeanor returns as quick as it had left. “Oh! And play nicely with the others!”

Caine blows into the whistle hanging on his vest.

NPCs flood the outdoor space.

Digging in the sandbox and pushing each other on the swings, the mannequin children are easily the loudest. Their voices are shrill but their squeals of laughter are even worse. The group of young candy citizens playing tag, shrieking across the grassy field, aren’t much better. The miniature orbsmen playing basketball on the blacktop are at least quiet. But as seeing their version of playful pushing could easily give one of the circus members a concussion, no one was too keen on interacting with them either.

Zooble watches the horde of small Gloinks swarm the jungle gym. They overcrowd the steps, pushing and shoving each other in a disorganized mass. They cram onto the bouncy bridge, some squeezing through the railing and are forced back to the steps. They tumble down the slide like marbles, clumping at the bottom, only to scuttle back up and repeat the process.

“Great,” Zooble mutters. “Now it’s infested.”

One Gloink hops up to them and croaks, eyes blinking at different times.

Zooble stares down at it. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to play with you.” They nudge it away with their foot, but the Gloink just bounces back like a rubber ball.

“Leave me alone.” Zooble growls. They pick up the Gloink and chuck it across the playground. Out of sight, out of mind.

Kinger is quickly distracted by a butterfly. “Why, hello there!”

Enamored by its pretty colors, Kinger happily takes chase. Through the orbsmen’s basketball game, around the Gloink-covered slides, and into the field of running candy kids, he's oblivious to his surroundings but miraculously avoids everything.

Pomni lingers on the blacktop, hands fidgeting. After having been on so many of Caine’s adventures, she’s learned not to draw attention to herself when they’re left to their own devices. Although, that plan goes out the window when she spots a familiar yellow and green figure.

Across the playground, Gummigoo and his candy-colored crew are skipping rope in perfect rhythm.

Anxiety causes Pomni to freeze mid-step. She has to consciously remind herself not to gnaw at her gloved fingers again.

Do they remember her? Should she approach? What if she embarrasses herself? What if they—

“Excuse me, Miss.”

Pomni startles. A lime green, gummy hand is extended toward her.

“Would you like to play with us?” Gummigoo asks with a wide, toothy smile.

Pomni’s anxiety disappears in an instant. “Yes! I-” She blurts. Her voice comes out too loud. She winces and tries again, softer this time. “Yes. I’d like to play.”

The other two gummy children cheer and begin to chant: “Sing the song! Sing the song!”

Pomni falters. She doesn’t know any songs. Her shoulders tense. What if that means she can’t play?

Gummigoo seems to notice and explains kindly. “We sing the song and you jump when we say. Easy! I’ll show you.”

He steps into the middle of the rope and tips his hat. The other two being to turn the rope, their voices rising in sing-song rhythm:

“Sugar, sugar, twisty sweet,
Hop on candy bunny feet-”

Pomni smiles shyly. It actually looks like fun.

“Stretchy taffy, one, two, three,

Who can jump as fast as me?”

Gummigoo leaps outside of the rope and grabs Pomni’s arm. “Ready?”

“Ready for wha-!” She yelps as he pulls her into the middle.

Without missing a beat, the chant continues:

“Licorice lace and lollipop spin,

If you stumble, you don’t win- “

Her heart races. But for once, it’s not in fear.

Pomni follows Gummigoo’s rhythm, jumping in unison. The floppy ears of her jester hat bounce. The bells jingle with every hop. Pomni’s laughter causes her stumble. She squeaks but recovers quickly. The gators hoot and holler in support.

The noise draws a crowd, singing along to the song. Even Ragatha and Zooble are there, clapping to the rhythm.

The rope spins faster.

“Candy kids go hop, hop, hop,

Don’t you dare let your feet go stop-”

“Oh! She’s doing so well!” Ragatha acclaims.

“Or she’s about to faceplant.” Zooble is both apprehensive and enthralled by this idea. “Place your bets!”

“Sugar bunny, don’t you fall,
Or the rope will take it all!”

Pomni is out of breath but keeps up the pace, the rope a blur.

Then, her foot catches. She tumbles to the blacktop with a yelp. The crowd collectively winces. Ragatha and Zooble rush forward.

Despite the minor dent in her pride, Pomni wears a dopey smile. She was grinning like an idiot and didn’t want to stop.

Zooble helps her sit up. “Congrats. You survived candy CrossFit.”

“Are you okay, Pomni?” Ragatha asks in concern.

She nods breathlessly, giving a weak thumbs-up. The crowd cheers at her recovery!

Gummigoo helps her stand. “You did better than me my first time.”

“Better than me too if I were to try.” Ragatha adds. “You did great!”

“Caine has to give you a sticker for that performance.” Zooble insists.

Gummigoo gestures to Pomni’s scrapped up knees. "We might need a grown-up to help you with those though.”

Too busy enjoying the endorphin rush, Pomni hadn’t noticed. And now that she had, the pain made her eyes water.

“You two stay with Pomni. I’ll go get Caine.” Ragatha orders, running off to find the humanized chattering teeth toy.

Zooble despised thinking of Caine as a “grown-up”. He was the most immature out of all of them. Although, given their situation, that might not be true right now. The thought makes Zooble feel uneasy.

They feel something attach to their leg and, without looking, Zooble knows exactly what it is.

That overly clingly Gloink had returned with two of its friends, demanding to play.

“Hey! Ever heard of personal space?” Zooble tries to pry off the trio of Gloinks with little success. They sigh and turn to the jump roping duo. “Stay with the Gummy Gang, Pomni. I’ll be right back.”

Dragging the growing tumor of Gloinks on their leg across the playground, Zooble hobbles to the sandbox. They detach their Gloink-covered appendage and throw it over the short, dividing wall. Zooble starts hopping back to the jump roping duo.

But their sacrifice was not enough. The Gloinks wanted more.

Upon hearing the battle cry, Zooble turns to see very single Gloink, now armed with sand toy weapons, standing on the sandbox wall. Wearing a sand bucket as a helmet, the original demanding Gloink slowly raises a brightly colored spade.

“Oh no.”

The head Gloink drops the spade and their army descends upon Zooble.

Quickly replacing their missing leg with an arm, Zooble runs. They bob and weave through the grassy field, a tactic that usually worked to evade the Gloinks. But Zooble was usually a foot taller before.

“Ow!” Gangle shrieks as Zooble shoves her aside.

The wave of Gloinks crashes beside her as they roll past, but Gangle doesn’t pay much attention to them. She curls her ribbons into tight fists. The sight of yet another comedy mask in pieces makes her temper flare. She points accusingly at Zooble. “You pushed me!”

“What?! I barely touched you! You tripped over your own-“

Caine whistles loudly. “No roughhousing, Zooble! That’s one of your stickers removed from the chart!” He reprimands.

Zooble freezes, stunned. “What—?!” The Gloinks catch up, tackling them in a dogpile.

“And thank you for letting me know, Gangle! I’m glad someone remembers the rules. You’ll get another sticker when we’re back inside.”

Gangle preens at the praise. The Gloinks parade Zooble's disassembled body parts back to the sandbox.

“It’s hard to watch all of you gremlins at the same time.” Caine re-materializes beside Pomni and Ragatha. He offers two plasters to the teary-eyed jester. “Sun or Moon Band-Aid?”

With the glove not in her mouth, Pomni silently points to the blue one and watches Caine carefully bandage her knee.

“Good choice. I don’t like the sun either.” Ragatha agrees, half distracted by the sight of Gangle retreating into the jungle gym. She was wearing her tragedy mask, but it did nothing hide her sadistic smile. “She… she’s going to do that again, isn’t she?” Ragatha thinks aloud.

And it doesn’t take long.

Trying to prevent the Gloinks from burying Zooble alive, Kinger confidently declares himself King of the Sandbox and demands they stop. The Gloinks pause, unsure of how to proceed.

They look at their original leader who taps their sand bucket crown with a spade.

Then, they look at Kinger. He takes a moment to scramble for and put on his own sand bucket crown.

Kinger’s crown is a lot bigger than their leader’s. Therefore, Kinger must really be the King of the Sandbox!

The Gloinks immediately abandon Zooble to welcome their new monarch.

“Caine!” Gangle calls. “Kinger is letting the Gloinks climb on him! It’s not safe.”

“Safety violations are very serious! Minus one sticker, Kinger!”

Kinger gasps. “But Zooble wasn’t fit for the throne!”

“Plus one for Gangle for her dedication to rule enforcement!”

The tattling continues.

“Caine! Pomni cut in line for the slide!”

“I wasn’t!” Pomni protests, halfway up the ladder.

“Minus one for Pomni, plus one for Gangle!”

Pomni glares at the smug bundle of ribbons.

“I’m just,” Gangle shrugs not-so-innocently, “following the rules.”

Ragatha watches the scene unfold with a prominent frown. Although the Sticker Chart wasn’t visible during recess, she did not like the sound of Caine awarding Gangle with so many stickers. Gangle was not supposed to be the model student. That was Ragatha's role.

So if Gangle can play dirty, then so can she.

In the now Gloink-free sandbox, Ragatha hums to herself as she builds a sandcastle. She levels the a sandy tower with expert precision. Come to think of it, Ragatha can’t remember the last time she built a sandcastle. She was enjoying the creative outlet more than she thought she would.

But this sandcastle wasn’t being built for fun.

“Hey, Gangle?” Ragatha’s voice is sweeter than syrup.

“Um… yes?”

“Come help me decorate! I want the tallest, most dazzling castle. Your artistic skills would help alot!”

Flattered, Gangle shuffles over. “O-okay.”

“Great! Hold this for me.” Ragatha hands her a full bucket of sand.

Gangle struggles to hold up the heavy bucket but doesn’t want to disappoint.

“When I say so, flip it over for the second tower, alright?”

Gangle nods. “Got it!”

As if preparing the ground for the sandcastle’s new addition, Ragatha sweeps her hands under the sand . “On three. One… Two…” She throws handfuls of sand up in the air, showering them both in a sandy snowfall. “Three!”

Gangle startles, dropping the bucket and shaking out her ribbons. There was sand everywhere!

“Caine!” Ragatha cries sweetly.

Oh no. Gangle freezes when Caine blows the whistle.

“Gangle! C'mon, no throwing sand was one of the first rules I gave out. That’s one less sticker for you!”

Gangle opens her mouth to argue but no words come out. To an outsider, it clearly looked like she had destroyed the sandcastle and covered Ragatha in sand.

“And thank you, Ragatha, for trying to involve your friends in constructive play!” Caine pats Ragatha’s head in approval. “That’s the kind of teamwork we like to see. Another sticker for you!”

Ragatha ducks her head and clasps her hands in mock modesty. “Oh, I didn’t do anything special. Gangle just got… a little carried away.”

Gangle whirls on her, ribbons twitching in anger. “You set me up!”

“Now, now.” Ragatha wags her finger. “Nobody likes a sore loser.”

Zooble wheezes with laughter. From their perch at the top of the jungle, they yell. “That’s playground politics, baby!”

Beside them, Kinger applauds. “Ragatha played you a fiddle and it sounded beautiful!”

“I think the tattletale just tattled her last tale.” Pomni adds.

Gangle groans in defeat.

The cheerful chine rings once more and their surroundings morph back to the indoor daycare.

The walls regain their pastel colors. The rainbow rug reappears. And, most importantly, the Sticker Chart is back in view.

“My, my little munchkins! You were terrible influences on the others!" Caine through the intercom. "Let’s try something a little more structured. We’ll be doing a Soft Skills Scavenger Hunt!”

“I don’t want to play Dora the Explorer.” Jax complains.

“¡Casi lo olvido! Each treasure has a special phrase! Say it correctly or it doesn’t count.”

“Jax, why do you insist on torturing us?” Gangle asks.

Zooble side-eyes the rabbit. “Keep your mouth shut next time.”

In a burst of confetti, a chalkboard appears. An invisible hand scrawls a short list in chalk letters:

1. A shiny apple

2. A plush heart

3. A golden block

4. A rainbow crayon

“Find them all,” Caine announces, “and you’ll unlock the secret prize! Go, go, go, my little ducklings!”

Ragatha examines the list closer. “If we split up, we’ll finish faster. I think the craft—”

But everyone has already darted in different directions.

“So much for teamwork.”

Zooble is the first to find an item. They return to the rainbow rug and hold up the golden block.

“I’ve got your stupid thing, Caine! Hand over the sticker.”

“You’re missing something.” He sing-songs.

Zooble sighs. Using their most flat and deadpan tone, they recite the phrase on the bottom of the block. “We build together, friends forever.”

DING!

The block vanishes in a puff of glitter and a star sticker appears under Zooble’s name.

“Good thing sincerity is optional.”

Gangle returns to the rainbow rug next. Showing off the plush heart like a trophy, she says the item’s phrase. “With a heart so bright, I share the light.”

She hugs the heart close, her chest full of pride. “I did it.”

But nothing happens. No Caine. No ding! No sticker.

“W-what happened?” Gangle looks at the heart wrapped in her trembling ribbons. “I said it right, didn’t I?”

Zooble gently takes the heart and squints at the phrase. Did Caine take away their ability to read? That seemed like a Caine thing to do.

“With a heart so bright, we share the light.” Zooble reads aloud slowly. “That’s what you said, right Gangle?”

DING!

The heart fades from Zooble’s hands and another star glows under their name.

Gangle stares, frozen. “You… you stole my heart.”

Zooble suddenly finds the floor very fascinating.

Saved by the metaphorically bell, Ragatha approaches the rug and says the next item's phrase. “Creativity is contagious. Pass it on!”

The rainbow crayon disappears. A star is added to Ragatha’s column.

DING!

“How many do we have left?” Ragatha asks, still admiring her sticker collection.

Zooble ticks off the list on their mismatched fingers. “Golden block, plush heart, rainbow crayon… that leaves the shiny apple.”

“I found the -!” Pomni shouts from across the room, holding up the last hidden treasure. But in all the excitement, she doesn’t see the toy train tracks in her way and crashes to the floor. “…apple.”

“Yoink!” Jax snatches it right out of her hands and finishes the short sprint to the rug.

“Give that back!” Pomni shouts, scrambling after him.

“Sharing is caring, Pomni.” Jax laughs, pretending to take a bite. The apple squeaks like a dog toy.

“That phrase is incorrect!” Caine sings. “Sorry, Jax. The shiny apple will be rehidden!”

The fruit vanishes in a glittery pop.

Pomni groans. “I was right there!” That was not worth further irritating her scraped knees. “And you ruined it!” She shoves Jax. Hard.

Now being more or less the same size, it's enough to throw Jax off his feet. He recovers quickly, shoving Pomni in return. “Guess you should’ve watched where you were going.” he fires back.

“You’re a thief!”

“And you’re a thumb-sucking crybaby.”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Stop it, both of you!” Ragatha yells over the bickering duo. “You’re ruining this for the rest of us!”

“Zooble already did that.” Gangle blurts.

“I didn’t mean to!”

Ragatha pinches the bridge of her nose. “We’re never getting out of her if you all keep acting like five-year-olds.”

Gangle stops her foot. “Hey, I am not five!”

“I’d say five is generous.” Pomni mutters.

“And you stomped!” Jax snickers. “That’s such a little kid move.”

“Shut up!”

“Oh my! Such melodramatic meltdowns!” Caine interrupts, clapping gleefully. “Bubble would’ve loved that spectacle! But unfortunately, we are out of time. The shiny apple is still missing so that prize will stay a secret for now! But don’t you worry, my radiant rascals… your friend has something truly special planned for you all!”

The lights dim and velvet curtains drop from the ceiling. A spotlight snaps towards a makeshift stage with a short booth. Written in crooked, hand-painted letters, the front of the booth reads: Kinger’s Puppet Show.

“Please take your seats.” Caine guides the reluctant group to sit in front of the stage. “The show will be starting soon.”

A paper bag puppet with googly eyes and a hand-drawn tuxedo pops up from behind the booth. “This is a tale from long ago.” The narration is clearly in Kinger’s voice. “It is a tale of dainty dragons and daring princesses!”

Two stuffed animals take center stage next: a tiger and a bear.

“Yes, I’m looking for Sir Pancake,” says the tiger, Kinger's voice now an octave higher. “He’s the only one who can save this land.”

The bear bows. “You’ll have to travel far.”

Despite their recent screaming match, the rest of the circus relaxes and watches the performance in relative silence.

Except for Jax.

He crosses his arms impatiently. “How long is this going take?”

“Shh.” Ragatha hisses.

“Excuse me?”

“Shh! That means be quiet.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Jax whisper-shouts.

She holds a finger to her mouth as a sign to keep quiet. “There’s a performance going on.”

“Ha!” Jax busts out laughing. “You call this a performance?”

DING!

Jax’s column on the Sticker Chart is, once again, empty.

Ears folded back, he pulls his knees to his chest. “Fine.”

The show continues.

“Sir Pancake, this place will be a war zone! What do we do?” says the tiger.

The paper-plate character replies with an accent no one can place. “Don’t worry, darlin’. Take the kids and meet me by the river. If I’m not there by sundown… Run.”

Frankly, Zooble was surprised how quickly Ragatha got Jax to settle down. It’s normally not that easy to make Jax do something. Especially when Ragatha was the one asking him to. Although, after watching Jax’s head slowly fall forward then shoot back up a few times, it wasn’t hard to put 2 and 2 together.

Judging by the smirk on her face, Ragatha seemed to have made the connection too.

“Aw, is the widdle bunny cranky without his nap?” She croons patronizingly.

“No.” Jax sits up straighter, defensive.

Gangle snickers. “I bet Jaxy over there won’t make it to the end of the show.”

“He’s not gonna make it to intermission,” Pomni teases.

Jax huffs and hugs his knees tighter.

“Just lie down,” Zooble offers. “There’s no award for staying awake.”

His head snaps towards them. “That’s right! There is no award for me!”

The music cuts abruptly. Everyone turns. Even Kinger pokes his head over the booth.

“I’m trying!” Jax screams, voice cracking. “I’m trying to play along, to earn those stupid stars, to get us out of here! I’m trying!” His voice wobbles. “Just let me just try, okay?!”

“We aren’t stuck like this forever, Jax.” Zooble tries to reason.

He laughs bitterly. “If you really think this is gonna change once we’re done here, you’re dumber than I thought!”

Something flickers in his eyes. That something quickly replaces his short temper.

His body trembles. His breathing is erratic. His eyes are overflowing with tears.

"I..." Jax stumbles away from the group. “I don’t... I don’t want to try anymore.”

He collapses to the floor, pulling his ears over his face and shaking his head. His breath hitches between loud sobs, making his words unintelligible.

The cast is silent.

“Um...” Zooble calls cautiously. "Caine?"

The talking set of teeth appears behind them, looking unimpressed. “Yeah… I thought this might happen.” He snaps his fingers.

In an instant, Jax’s body goes still.

Jax unfurls with a curious expression, releasing his ears in favor of feeling the thing in his mouth: a pacifier. It’s bright red with a bold, black mute symbol printed on the shield.

Going cross-eyed in attempt to see it, Jax feels the outside of the soother. Despite the tears rolling down his cheeks, his breathing levels out and his body relaxes.

When Jax looks up at the others, his eyes are glassy, unfocused.

Caine rolls his eyes and settles cross-legged on the rug among them. Aside from an initially loud, high-pitched whine, Jax remains calm and quiet when Caine pulls him into his lap.

“My apologies for the interruption, Kinger.” Caine casually gestures to the stage. “Please continue.”

Pomni was right. Jax falls asleep way before intermission.