When everyone is more or less in position for Operation Druggy Dogpile, Jonathan pauses for a moment and shouts out, “Oh!” and then disappears.

The ground-dwelling OD Disaster balks after crawling a little further towards the position Jonathan previously occupied, looking around in clear confusion.

As he can only see Miss Masher, he babbles some gibberish at her and slaps the ground angrily in a form of aggressive posturing… but doesn’t make a move to approach her.

‘...The fuck?’

Noticing his hesitancy to take the initiative against her, Miss Masher grins and flexes at him, stomping one of her feet.

He not only flinches, but even pulls himself a short distance back.

‘...Are you fuckin’ kidding me? He was plenty aggressive towards her before, so it’s not like he’s somehow bein’ hesitant to hit a girl or anythin’, yeah?’

[Well, she hasn’t noisily triggered him anywhere near as much as the rest of you. Also, even mindless, he probably understands what such clearly visible muscles mean.]

‘I’M THE ONE THAT HURT HIM THOUGH!? I should be who he’s scared of!’

[...He didn’t see it happen, and when he knocked you away she was still standing nearby after he was hurt. Even though we know she’s been actively wary of him, he hasn’t seen her run away from him, either.]

‘For fucks sake! No Fair! Credit thief!’

[...]

The impasse is short-lived, as Jonathan has once again returned, appearing roughly around the position he vanished from. He has a slightly sheepish expression and is holding an ornate metal serving tray in each hand.

“S-sorry… I didn’t th-think it would, um, t-take that long to find them.” As if his new possessions weren’t obvious enough, Jonathan holds up the two shiny trays he’s carrying while saying this.

The sound of his voice pulls the Incomprehensible Bulk’s attention back to his direction, who then smacks the ground once more and enthusiastically shrieks at him before gleefully resuming his pursuit of his nemesis.

Lucas barely succeeds at holding back his laughter, and Miss Chievous is only slightly less successful, as she lets a small puff of a chortle escape. Thankfully, the Auditorily Offended Attacker either didn’t notice, or just didn’t care, thanks to the higher priority target before him.

Miss Masher snickers as well, but, she continues to be ignored by her intimidated opponent.

While Jonathan had previously been running forward while leading the merry chase, in no small part due to it taking a bit more effort for him, compared to Lucas’s longer strides; he is now walking backward while closely watching his approaching antagonist. He’s holding the two trays vertically in parallel with one another, just a few inches apart from each other, and has a smile that couldn’t possibly be considered anything other than troublesome.

‘Oh, kiddo’s gonna have makin’ lots of noise on lock, hah!’

[I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s loud enough to agitate some of the animals across the street in Faunahorde, let alone the tasks’ target just a few feet away.]

‘Seriously. Ah, we should be good to go now, yeah?’

[I’d say this is as good of timing and positioning as you’re going to get, yes.]

Lucas reaches up with his left hand to gently pat Miss Chievous’s hand that was holding onto his upper right arm, surprising her briefly before she lets go and backs up a bit, dropping his invisibility and giving him some room to move around.

‘Ah, crap. There’s no not-awkward way of doing this. Oh well, here goes nothin’! Get wrekt!’

[..?]

Lucas takes one rapid step forward before launching himself at the Medically Augmented Dude, belly-flopping onto his back while he reaches out to grab his arms as soon as he’s within reach.

Shortly after Lucas became visible and started approaching, Miss Masher began taking a few hasty steps towards the target as well, raising up her hands to prepare to clap once Jonathan takes the initiative to lead the musical performance.

Miss Chievous is similarly prepared, though rather than rushing the opponent, she is circling around Lucas to approach her intended victim’s head.

A fraction of a second after Lucas makes physical contact, Jonathan begins the audio assault, shortly followed by the sisters clapping and shouting.

Although, the metallic crashes of hot hot tray on tray action largely overwhelm the other cacophony contributions.

Not only do a large number of the inhabitants of Faunahorde join in the performance, among a few other rogue canines in the area, but the intended target even participates with a shrill pained screech.

The jumbled auditory assault catches no small number of people by surprise for a few blocks in every direction.

Over in MF’s, Mikah even sat up in his bed, temporarily muting his TV while trying to figure out what in the world was causing that awful racket. Not that this curiosity holds his attention for long, since the live broadcast for the enhanced women’s wrestling semifinals is on.

Back in the cafe, the sensory-overloaded Medicated Menace continues shrieking as long as Jonathan keeps crashing his improvised cymbals together. He not only stops his pursuit, but he also claws at his own head, trying to cover his ears, not even remotely reacting to Lucas’s presence.

‘Fuck, that really is loud, goddamn.’

Lucas manages to adjust his positioning enough that he’s now kneeling on the pained man’s legs, actively applying downward pressure instead of relying on mere gravity whenever the man tries to make any movements.

The poor floor tiles beneath them are ruined in short order, like most of their siblings throughout the room.

Thanks to the target clutching at his ears in a feeble defense against the accursed noise, Lucas is easily able to grab both of his wrists and forcefully yank his arms back, pinning them against the small of his back.

It’s not until his arms are aggressively repositioned that the man seems to finally notice Lucas’s presence, and he begins thrashing around, squirming as he attempts to buck Lucas off, screaming in pain the whole time.

‘...This is pretty awful, isn’t it?’

[...Just keep reminding yourself what a disastrous threat he was and would have continued to be if he were left unchecked.]

Jonathan not only doesn’t stop the disruptive performance, but he has even walked over a bit closer, crouching down in front of their target, and is repeatedly slamming the trays together right in front of his face with a sinister smile.

Both sisters stopped their audible contributions, having other, higher, priorities.

Miss Masher is fairly close by, preparing to forcefully kneel on the back of the neck of their target as she reaches out for his head with both hands.

Miss Chievous is now visible, already holding out her Viblade in a readied position, standing opposite her sister with a smile alarmingly similar to Jonathan’s as she looks down at the nearby earmarked ear.

‘They’re… all enjoying this way too much.’

[I believe they are all feeling more personally motivated than you may realize.]

Despite the Drug-Fueled Disaster’s writhing, Lucas is effortlessly keeping his balance, severely restricting his movements as Miss Masher works on pinning his upper torso and head in place for Miss Chievous.

‘...Eh? I can sorta get Jon, after gettin’ killed twice by him and all, but what about the girlies?’

[...Are you really that clueless?]

‘Hey!’

Their tortured target convulses mid-screech as Lucas crushes his wrists while holding the pin, in a fashion much akin to what he had done to his poor mangled ankle pre-rollback.

[One look at the grooves you left in the ground should be all it took for Miss Masher to know she probably wouldn’t have survived that hit you took, if it had struck her instead. She also did seem to have some sense of justice over the marble girl incident, so that alone may have compelled her to stop this man. But, between his disruptions, her sheer joy of fighting, some degree of vendetta over the party’s behalf, and making up for her wounded pride from the earlier short conversation… I’m not surprised she’s enjoying herself.]

Miss Masher makes a low chuckle as she forces down the man’s shoulders with one knee, kneeling on his neck with the other, similarly applying heavy downward pressure when needed, like Lucas is doing. With both of her hands spread out to cover the entire back of his head, she’s grinding his face down into the flooring with all of her strength, preventing him from so much as wriggling.

Though, he is managing to continue yelling out in pain, even with her pressing on the back of his neck.

[Even without being aware of the failed timelines, it doesn’t take much imagination to consider how much of a threat he posed to Jonathan prior to your arrival. Between feeling vindictive over his obvious repeated attempts at taking Jonathan’s life, Miss Chievous most likely feels even further contempt towards him due to the injuries she received, even if they were only indirectly a result of this man’s actions.]

Miss Chievous’s hand trembles briefly when she powers on the Viblade and it hums to life. Once she’s steady, she slowly inserts its point into the man’s ear as he makes a blood-curdling scream.

Her smile grows as the knife steadily drives into his skull.

‘Ah..? I mean, I guess so? Still seems like their reactions are a bit strong for not being directly involved with the problem, they coulda just left?’

[...You really are hopeless, aren’t you?]

‘???’

-----

Lucas’s total kills: 8

Lucas’s total deaths: 12

Lucas’s total assists: 1

Lucas’s current GDV: 17.43 [Recalculating...]

Lucas’s fame level: 6.0* (Local fame is completely maxed, he’s creeping up on minor celebrity status even on a global scale. Thanks, internet.)

Lucas's hero suspicion level: 2.0*

Jonathan’s total kills: 7

Jonathan’s total deaths: 4

Jonathan’s current GDV: 6.10 [Recalculating...]

Jonathan's fame level: 4.0* (Local fame is near-max, but everyone thinks of him via his affiliation with Lucas, and not often just for him, alone.)

Jonathan's hero suspicion level: 2.5*

Willy's fame level: 5.0* (Another round of the latest memes featuring him and Mr. Quacks has bloomed.)

Mr. Quacks’s fame level: 5.5* (Another round of the latest memes featuring him and Willy has bloomed.)

Supervillain social circle size: 15

-----

Little character theater:

Jonathan, having finally ceased the chaotic clashing after maintaining it a bit longer than was really necessary, had casually set the two trays on the ground nearby. Now, he is squatting down in front of the task’s target, and is closely watching his suffering with morbid curiosity.

Willy is happily enjoying some stimulating conversation with Miss Calculated: Bark? Bark bark! Bark.

Lucas, both legitimately confused and a bit offended: But… I’m not wrong? They really coulda’ just left at any time. It’s not like a task is keepin’ ‘em here! And, it’s not like it’s normal to help out people ya just met around here!

427, mentally facepalming: [...How are you this dense?]

Author, shaking their head: Sorry 427, but I fear his obliviousness is terminal.

Mr. Quacks and Quackette have finally, finally, had their fill of confectionary goodness, and are now supervising the task-in-progress: Quack.