All things considered, Zune thought the Asisi Vermouth interview went quite well. There was drama, tension, humor, and spotlights: all the things that made a top-tier Guy Blanco interview. Yet still, there were many things to improve on. For one, The Slightly-Late Show only had four viewers in all of Eden (possibly less now). Secondly, the furniture Zune had wanted to take from the East of Eden was probably destroyed. Third, Zune had forgotten to negotiate Asisi Vermouth’s appearance fee (and, unbeknownst to him, completely misunderstood what an appearance fee was). fourth, to address the elephant in the room: there was no saloon and Zune was trapped under thousands of pounds of timber, nails, and glass. And finally, he was certainly no closer to meeting Guy Blanco or completing his show’s set. Certainly, the rubble did not help.

“Well, at least I was right about this saloon being on the brink of collapse! Thanks Mentholarix!” Zune quipped. He swore, for a brief moment, that he heard the mechanical laughter of a distant (and large) audience.

About thirty feet away, Cleopatra Bingley, Langley Pinkerton, Ragnar Son of Mad Titan Uroskyne and the Twelve Harpies, and Father Milton were all huddled under a surprisingly sturdy table, entirely in the dark. They were stunned. All could not believe what they had just witnessed. Not only had Asisi Vermouth told the truth, but the bartender had told it multiple times and then destroyed his own saloon. Even more surprising, however, was the overall effect the late night television format had imparted on them: hope for a better future. The celebrity (as for as Asisi Vermouth could be called one) guests. The variety. The ethereal spotlight. The kobolds literal command of the stage. The heartwarming redemptions. They wanted more. No. They needed more. And they weren’t going to get anymore if they were stuck under the rubble.

“Anyone else ever seen anything like that before?” Cleopatra Bingley asked.

“No. Kobold very good showman. Ragnar would know, for Ragnar used to be poet and singer. Also, was very likable in a pathetic sort of sense too.” Ragnar said, in an accent that sounded to the narrator like a Russian accent. Ragnar clapped enthusiastically.

“Pathetic?” Father Milton objected, crossly. “We literally just witnessed a miracle. A literal divine miracle. How did Asisi get his outfit back? And where did the kobold get a soccer ball that wasn’t deflated?”

Father Milton reminded his companions about how the famous necromancer, Deflatin' Joe, had set a curse upon the town of Eden to automatically deflate any soccer ball within a thirty mile vicinity as a final act of revenge before being driven out of town (because, mind you, not even lawless towns like necromancers and Joe made a particularly poor one.)

“Damn Joe had a knack for picking prophetic names for shit.” Langley Pinkerton complained. His companions nodded and “ah-hum’d” in agreement. “Now does anyone have a plan to get rid of all of this rubble?”

******

Emma stared at the utter devastation that was the remnants of the East of Eden Combination Saloon and Daycare. One second the building was standing, the next she swore she heard the theme song from The Very Late Show with Guy Blanco blaring on the player piano, and then after that a molten soccer ball shattered the load-bearing window. The saloon collapsed like a shitty house of cards. By all rights, it should have never been standing in the first place, and the fact that it had been standing made the building a narratively convenient miracle. But now, the building was a narratively convenient mess.

Five years ago, Emma would have immediately dove on the rubble, scrambling for survivors. Always trying to do good things was actually been Brennan’s third in his series of “shitty isekai theories.” This theory in particular, he had called “shitty groundhog day.” Brennan (and the rest of the isekai-crew) had come up with the idea that, if the party did enough good deeds on Ridiculous Fantasy Earth that a portal would open up and send them back to Real Earth. Emma now knew the theory was false.

“You’ve been too much on my mind lately.” Emma said, thinking of her brother. “Maybe that’s why I heard the Guy Blanco outro music, huh?” she said, mostly wrong.

She thought back on Brennan’s third shitty isekai theory, and looked at the wreckage of the East of Eden Combination Daycare and Saloon. She swore she heard the mechanical laugh of a late night audience. Was some god mocking her? (No, unless you count me, the narrator).

“This town reminds me too much of you, brother. I need to go.” the Gunslinger said. So she ignored the destroyed saloon and headed west on a dusty road into the setting sun for less silly places. Places that didn't remind her of her pain.