Riff?

Snooze stood in front of the world simulacrum, her cone of the Planet Speaker godspell facing directly at it. There was a long pause as she waited. It seemed like an eternity, but eventually, finally…

Snooze! Holy sh--er, woah! I can’t believe it! How in the celestial hells are you?!

Snooze's heart raced. Finally! It hadn’t been all that long from her perspective, but she knew her friend hadn’t talked to her in perhaps thousands of years. She wasn’t sure how this was going to work, but they’d tried and well… this was the result.

It was Savvy’s voice--well, mind-voice-- that was responding to her, but the use of words definitely seemed like Riff. She was transmitting the message from another planet, which was receiving that message from another planet... and so on and so forth.

Oh, man, it’s great to talk to you, Riff. How’s everything? How’s Perth? How’s your world?

Once again, there was a long pause as Savvy sent the message to another planet, which sent it on to another.

Though Snooze was not aware of it at the time, millions of planets were participating in the exchange, relaying their correspondence through a chain of nearly infinite voices, all working to provide the two gods with the multiverse’s version of a game of telephone. Fortunately for Snooze, Savvy was very well-liked among the community of other worlds, and as such, she could call in this favor without too much of a to-do. In fact, a majority of the planets involved in the exchange were more than happy to help out, as they'd been previous resigned to the boring ineptitude of their own gods, many of which were unable to speak to them on their own behalf, and desperately desired something to stave off the stagnation.

It was a mostly seamless process, each world doing its part to transfer the message across the vast continuum of the eternal void of quadrants to make sure every word was accurate.

Well, all except Tyvortino.

Tyvortino was a world that thought of itself as something of a prankster, swapping out one of the words of each message in order to disrupt the chain of communication. For instance, in the last message, rather than relay the phrase, “Oh, man, it’s great to talk to you, Riff,” Tyvortino changed the word “talk” to “borf.”

Crafty creature, that Tyvortino.

Luckily, on either end of the roguishly uncreative planet’s relay were two no-nonsense worlds called Vet and Drapolondrius Prip, and they could easily spot the mistakes, correcting them on the fly so that while Tyvortino sat in the ether, holding its metaphorical breath from laughing so hard at its delightfully genius prank, it was unknowingly being mended and translated to not mess with the integrity of its original content. Though, it was not one-hundred-percent accurate, as occasionally there was a slip up in the train of conversation. Sometimes, even planets need babysitters.

Six worlds, actually! Things have been going quite well since we last saw one another. How are things going with you?

We can just assume there’s a long delay between each message, can’t we?

Six worlds? Oh, wow. You’re really doing great things out there, then? Super proud of you for crafting multiple worlds. I still only have the one! But, hey, it’s a living!

Only one? And you can speak with your planet? You never cease to amaze me, Snooze. How does borf like that happen?

And so, Snooze set about recounting all that had transpired since the two gods had last made their acquaintance. She covered everything in exhausting detail, as she was never one for brevity, and it took quite a long time for the whole story to pass through the relay, though, neither god seemed to mind. They were just happy to reconnect after all this time.

...and then Odd told me that it thinks ketchup was just a marketing ploy made up to sell napkins--which is a theory I’m strangely beginning to warm up to.

There was a pause, and finally after a painful wait, Snooze received her return message.

Wow, that’s wild, Snooze. I can’t believe all of that happened to you. I’d love to keep chatting, but there’s an issue I need to take care of. Can we talk again soon?

Snooze smiled.

Absolutely, let’s talk as much as possible. She couldn’t be sure, but she could almost sense a groaning sound, as if millions of exasperated voices sighed out all at once.

Borf you later!

Snooze chuckled.

Borf you later as well, Riff.

She ended the connection with Savvy--after thanking her profusely, of course, and walked back toward the Book of Leaf. She was feeling pretty good, and thought that maybe it was time to get down to business.

“Book,” she said quietly.

The Book of Leaf’s display flashed and populated.

HELLO, SNOOZE. WHAT CAN I HELP YOU WITH?

Snooze stuck her chin out proudly.

“I think it’s time to start working on a long-overdue project.”

THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME.

“Let’s get down on some creation of an Afterli--”

“Eh, maybe not just yet,” interrupted a familiar voice.

Snooze whirled around and came face-to-face with a pretty yellow face.

Grotto.

“Oh hey!” Snooze exclaimed, beaming at the stylishly-dressed QUACK. She was wearing a maroon-colored suit this time, and from her wrists dripped a few dangly silver bangles, but she still bore the strange boots that seemed to clash so strongly against the backdrop of her threads.

“Hey-o Snoozey,” Grotto returned, giving the little god a soaring thumbs-up. “Just wanted to pop by, and just in time too!”

“Oh?” Snooze asked, arching an eyebrow at the Chief Administrator pro tem.

“Yeah!” she declared, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “There’s a little snafu that we should address first.”

Snooze nodded.

“Sure,” she said. “What can I help you with?”

“Oh, well,” Grotto said, her tone suddenly changing into one of insecurity and caution. “There’s a little bit of an issue with… well, let’s just say that things are changing.”

“You’ve got me worried,” Snooze said. “You’re starting to make me think you’re the bearer of bad news.”

Grotto gave a pained expression and then shrugged her shoulders as if to say, ‘weeeeeeeellll.’

“Weeeeeeeellll…” she said. “I guess there was some confusion at the ole Consequences Factory.”

“Conse… what, now?”

“Ah, that’s just the nickname I gave to the place where they go to punish people.”

“People like Xolt?” Snooze asked.

“Funny you should mention Xolt…” Grotto said, wincing.

“Wait, what? What’s going on Grotto?” Snooze demanded.

Grotto sighed long and deep before looking up sheepishly at Snooze.

“Xolt has escaped.”

“What?! How?!”

“We… uh, don’t know.” Grotto admitted, her yellow face turning amber with embarrassment. “We are still trying to figure that out.”

“I thought he was done for,” Snooze said.

“Yeah, we all did. Our specialized chambers are supposed to be impossible to get out of.”

“So… Xolt escaped, that sucks. But how bad is it?” Snooze asked.

“Pretty bad,” Grotto said. “Xolt not only somehow bypassed the Bellandara and the Laughing Eternum, but they were also able to free other incarcerates.”

“How many?” Snooze asked.

“All of them,” Grotto said flatly, her face drooping with exhaustion.

“Well, that sounds very bad indeed,” Snooze offered. “But why are you here now, telling me this?”

Grotto sucked in a deep lungful of air and slowly released it. Snooze did not like that, not one bit.

“Well, Snooze, because before they disappeared, Xolt said they were coming for you.”