Chapter Text
A young man stands in his bedroom. It just so happens that today, September 4th, 2026 is this young man’s 12th day of middle school. Though it was-
Wait.
Is he wearing a jar of peanut butter? That can’t be right.
John, what do you think you’re doing?
This can’t be for real. John, are you being for real with me right now?
You do know that this is the beginning of the story right? You can't just come out the gate wearing peanut butter! That's stupid. It’s stupid and you’re ruining the story.
Who even wears peanut butter anyway? Is that even a thing that you can do?
Oh, piss off, John.
This is just another prank isn’t it? Ohhohoh yes. This must be sooo funny to you. You just love to drive a poor man to the end of his frayed wits, don’t ch’ya?
Well let me tell you, the prankster’s gambit acts in your favor! You got me John! Congratulations!
You know what? I quit! I’m done with having to deal with your shenanigans, and we haven’t even started this darn chapter! I hope you’re happy damnnit!
(John becomes the not terrible guy)
You are now the not terrible guy. In fact, you are now the super cool guy, the super cool guy who never wears stupid stuff like peanut butter costumes.
Your name is Dave Strider and-
…
And you are also dressed up as a condiment.
Apparently John is, in addition to being purposefully nettlesome,
a manipulative butt and worse than we have previously believed him to be.
Poor Dave. Do you think he wants to be dressed up as a bottle of ketchup? Oh wherever is Dave’s guardian to shield him from the influences of John's deceit and malice? Parents never care about their kids these days!
Just the sight of this unfortunate young lad brings to mind imagery of a little orphan boy left upon the streets, betrayed by all he has ever known. He is so sad and alone, sleeping cold in the rain in a bleak alleyway.
If only the world was kinder to him.
If only more people cared, and were able to protect him. Maybe poor little orphan boys like him could be happier and not be subjected to such condiment cruelty.
Hmmmm…
Man, now I’m feeling really sad. This condiment costume business has really brought down my vibe I guess. Man. Okay, I have one last hope. There is absolutely no way that this girl is going to be wearing a condiment costume.
(Dave becomes the awesome fashionable troll girl)
Ok.
This is just silly now.
Even Kanaya? Dear, sweet, darling Kanaya?
John Egbert’s condiment dominion leaves no part of the universe untainted it seems.
I guess this is what I should have expected from someone of such a nefarious nature as his.
Sigh.
Perhaps we should return to the source of the problem: Eggy boy himself. Let's go see what's going on in that twisted monster’s head, shall we?
(Kanaya becomes the sick and twisted monster)
Your name is John Egbert and you like stealing candy from small children. Though it was 14 days ago that you scratched your sburb session and mysteriously got dropped into middle school life, it is only now that you wear a jar of peanut butter.
This odd fashion choice is for your skit in theatre class, and the skit in question you just so happen to be presenting today.
You spent ALL WEEK rehearsing the script with your friends, so you are very excited to show it off!
The condiment costumes were your idea of course, you thought they would add a unique charm to your skit, but you also think they will educate your alien friends in human sandwich science. (Also known as the most respected and useful scientific field in all of paradox space).
Although, you are soon starting to regret your decisions. Who woulda thought that it could be so hard to move while wearing a jar of peanut butter? Oh well. You’ve been wearing it for such a long uninterrupted time period that you feel it would be disgraceful to discontinue your peanut butter wearing so soon. You are in the shit now, or, in the peanut butter if you will. ;) (Wonk wonk) (Ha. Ha. Ha.)
But anyway, you have better things to do than worry about peanut butter all day.
Your friends have entrusted you with the custody of the ULTRA SUPER IMPORTANT WORKSHEET, so you think your first goal of the morning should be to go ahead and make sure that it’s packed away nice and safe in your syladex. You aren’t gonna let this document slip away on your watch!
Because if you lost it… well,
you’re not even going to be entertaining that thought because there is absolutely no way in the world that you are losing this ULTRA SUPER IMPORTANT WORKSHEET.
But first you peek out of your window, which is currently the only thing lighting up your room.
You step closer to open it, and you look outside.
The sound of a distant group of morning birds fills the morning air,
but the sound of the breeze is what resonates deep in your ears.
Your new neighborhood is almost an exact replica of your old one.
You think it feels a lot different here though, and that would probably be because there is a giant pink oval in the sky.
There is no doubt that you are on a different planet.
A big, unidentified, unknown planet.
This fact doesn’t really bother you so much though, if anything you think it’s a good place for you and your friends to figure out how to get to the new session.
And it also helps that you get to hang out with your friends all day.
Its because of them that you find yourself, for the first time in forever, enjoying school.
Now isn’t that a concept?
So, you think today is going to be a good day
Wherever you are.
https://youtu.be/E8DmTc-xmCw?si=nbExFL9TxLIzLPXD
You walk over to your star patterned chest in the corner of your room.
You think it's the safest place to keep your stuff, so you put the SUPER IMPORTANT WORKSHEET in there to be extra cautious.
You run over to your desk and scan its surface for anything resembling the ULTRA SUPER IMPORTANT WORKSHEET. Nothing.
Hmmmmm…
You flop onto the floor to check underneath your bed,
but all you find is this jester imp harlequin plush thing.
You don’t like the idea of this thing being beneath you every night,
even the thought of that sends a shiver down your spine.
You decide to captchalogue it for later. You’re sure that clown troll guy might be interested in having it. Maybe. You have to admit you haven’t really talked to him, or even seen him much for that matter.
Worst comes to Worst you can just throw the dusty plush in the garbage once you get to school, where it will be far away from you.
Anyway, this worksheet business is getting kind of silly. I mean, you’ve checked three places already! And you were certain you left the worksheet in the chest…
You should ask a friend for advice about this alarming turn of events.
(John opens computer and asks a friend for advice)
-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 7:04 —-
EB: hey dave, just wondering- do you have any idea where the worksheet is?
TG: bro
TG: john
TG: youre not saying you lost the thing that it was literally your job not to lose are you
EB: listen, I SWEAR it’s not my fault! somebody must have moved it when you guys came over because i know for SURE that last time i saw it it was tucked away nice and safe in my prankster chest!
TG: ah so were blaming others now are we john?
EB: daavvve, come onn!!!!
EB: you don’t want to be failing in THEATRE of all things, do you?
TG: yah fine i guess youre right
TG: i know i’m like the chillest and most cool guy to ever grace the surface of the earth and to an extent all of space so youd think i dont care about grades let alone middle school grades and i guess thats kind of true but john-
TG: if i get a bad grade on this skit
TG: im afraid might jeopardize my comedic career
EB: pft dave lets be honest, you never had a comedic career to begin with.
TG: oof
TG: a boy can dream egbert
TG: y’know we can’t all be comedic geniuses like you are
TG: we can’t all make the gods weep with our masterful use of the whoopie cushion
TG: the moment it lets out its cry of phony flatulence the whole world rejoices
TG: “holy shit we need to throw this guy a damn parade” the world says (rejoicing)
TG: national egbert day is added into the calendars
TG: statues and towns are built in commemoration
TG: and the legend of the day is passed on for generations upon generations
TG: “the victorious tale of john egbert: whoopie cushion lord”
EB: yeah yeah yeah, shut up.
TG: so did you check your desk
TG: you kind of got a ton of papers scattered around on it which you should probably clean that up at some point by the way
EB: ok woah, it isn’t even that bad! besides, i already checked there.
TG: did you look under your bed
TG: That's like the classic place for missing shit to be
EB: yep. already checked there.
TG: dangit
TG: man i don’t know what to tell you
TG: are you sure its not in a drawer or something
EB: super sure! i've turned over every single surface in my room trying to find this thing but it's literally nowhere!
EB: but you're absooolutelllly sure you don’t have it?
TG: positive
EB: gosh.
EB: who knew one piece of paper could be so elusive?
TG: its like a motherfucking unicorn
TG: were gonna have to unearth some crazy occult dark magic spell to find this dang worksheet dawg
EB: i guess we’ll have to consult rose then! Haha
TG: damn shes gonna have to go all grimdark or whatever just so that we can get this thing back from wherever the hell
EB: Ugh, i sure hope not!
EB: i mean grimdark rose was really cool and all,
EB: all spooky magic stuff and what not, which was totally sick by the way!
EB: but i couldn’t understand a thing she was saying.
TG: huh dang really
TG: i guess that would stop her from trying to psychoanalyze me all the time
TG: its not my fault im so damn intresting
EB: oh you’re interesting all right.
TG: sure am
EB: anyway, i’m going to go see if my dad knows where the worksheet is.
EB: can you go see if the others have any idea where it is?
TG: aye aye cap’n
EB: thanks dave, see you in class!
TG: no prob man
TG: lemme know if you want some smuppet soup
EB: what?????
TG: ill explain later
TG: bye brah
EB: uhh ok, bye i guess?
— ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 7:07 —
You’ve always thought Dave was a kind of weird guy.
Well, you guess you’ve got a worksheet to find.