PART TWENTY-SIX MPD: 120 Thirtnite There were 13 days left before the master bakers running ThetanSoft poured their light, feathery soufflé (BetterVerse version 1) into a dumpster (hit delete) then wafted their oven-fresh new creation under our noses (launched version 2). I thought about writing a chapter for each of those days - there was enough going on - but not quite enough to make each chapter interesting. And let's be honest, I'm sure you're just waiting for zero hour to see which way the story turns. So I propose we rush through all that dead time... in the world's first ever LITERARY MONTAGE. Montage! Pumping Music Begins Pumping A MAN RUNS: I raced home, logged in, and talked to 386. I thought he'd be mad at me so I spent the time until I walked through the cave entrance looking for the right words to explain myself, but he was just happy to see me and brushed off my absence. I tried to talk to him about his imminent death but it didn't bother him in the least. He said something along the lines of 'that's progress, bro'. Teary-eyed, I told him that steam trains were the best trains and even if all the trains turned into space hovercrafts everyone would still stop to point at a steam train and it was wrong to just delete the old things and he did a sort of comically loud yawn and asked me to log out and contact Valentine and the Swords because they were stressing out about me. A MAN TYPES FAST: So I logged out and went through their (increasingly frantic) emails. I replied with a quick apology and status update ('guess who has two thumbs and is still alive? this guuyyyyy') and that I was going to type a longer email telling them a story they would NOT be able to believe. A MAN TYPES SLOWER: I tried to explain why I'd freaked out but kept typing words like 'poverty' and 'abandonment anxiety' and 'a life of quiet desperation'. I deleted all that guff and wrote 'it was the slap in the camel's face that broke the camel's face, if you know what I mean' and left it at that. Then I told them pretty much everything that had happened since my freakout, including my precautions around the headset because I knew they'd find that stuff funny. Finally, I told them my plans for the BetterVerse for the remaining 13 days - basically, to hang out in the dungeon and have a laugh with 386 and if they wanted to come along at the same time and join the chats, these would be the last days that'd be poss. A MAN RACES TO HIS FRONT DOOR, MAYBE IN SLOW MOTION A parcel arrived, which was weird because I hadn't ordered anything. I ripped the box open and inside was a webcam. It was a brand I'd never heard of, but I looked it up and it was one of the big guns in the niche. This was the webcam used by, like, top CEOs and that kind of dude. There was no note inside, only a photo. It was a black and white photo of a well-dressed man, quite handsome, with a huge, wicked smile, whimsical moustache not quite long enough to twirl villainously, and a very prominent gap in his front teeth. I took a photo of the photo and did a reverse image search. It turned out to be a British actor famous for playing 'cads, toffs, and bounders' in the 1950s and 60s. His name was Terry-Thomas. Thomas... WE ZOOM IN ON THE SIGN FOR AUSTERALIA The sign looks bigger. The camera whizzes around the dungeon showing that it's bigger and busier than ever. The cameraman backs up and pushes through a closed door on which someone has stuck a piece of paper labeled 'Soil Testing Society Annual Meeting please knock'. We enter a dull, sparsely furnished room painted a dull cream. There are eight chairs, all with jackets on the back. Books, papers, and cups prove that the soil testers were here just moments ago. Perhaps they have gone out for a break? It would be rude to hang around. Despite society's obvious disapproval, the cameraman pushes forward and goes through another door. There's a bleak, empty corridor and then another door. There's another room behind it, and inside we see Billy-Bob Bain holding court, telling a story while the Swords of the Scales laugh. The burly warriors are all holding rectangular bits of wood, and sometimes they look down at these objects and laugh some more. The audio on this scene fades up, which DOES happen sometimes in a montage and a list of over a thousand examples will be available on my website by the time you get to this page. Here's what they're saying: Bain: So I said, pretentious? Moi? All: Laughter. Valentine: Can we get serious for a moment? Ben: Oh, you two are finally going to get serious? All minus two: Laughter. Valentine: What are we going to do about armageddon? Bain: I don't know about you but arma geddin' out of here. Adam: Should we talk about this in front of... [he points to the ceiling]. Bain: He knows he's going to die. He doesn't seem to give a ship. Nicki, are you talking about parties and stuff? Valentine: Yeah. We've been invited to loads. I was wondering if you had something planned. 386: What's this, now? Ben: End of the World parties. Pretty much everyone knows about the end of beta and there are loads of gatherings planned. By far the biggest will be in Ankh-Morpork. They reckon there could be 300,000 there. Log in at 11:01 for music, snogging, death at midnight. Charles: Have you heard of Live Aid? Well, this one's called Kool Aid. Humans: Laughter. 386: I don't get it. Damocles: The best parties will be in Bad Juju. All the perverts and marginal cases will be there. I bet you a million bucks they don't give us the stats for how many attend that one. Valentine: There's options in Auster, too. Clean ones. [She blushes adorably.] 386: People want to celebrate their doom? Bain: And see in the New Year, sort of thing. It's a mix of funeral and first day of spring. That's quite appealing. Also people want to see the graphics. Will it just turn to black or will there be an actual scene? Not everyone will be doing parties. The ambitious types will be skipping 'the wipe' and will be logging in at a minute past midnight to create their new characters and get a head start in the new world. Although I'm obviously a highly-motivated VIP package kinda big dog, my plan is to have fun in here until the wipe, probably playing Lair Hockey because that's the best time a man can have, and then I'm actually really looking forward to all the 'new world' content. I'll be watching some streams and reading the forums and everything. See what they have come up with. I've even taken one of my days off work so I can really enjoy it. Damocles: 386, can you tell us what they have planned? 386: No, I don't know anything yet. Soz. Valentine: You'll be here, then, Bain? Are you two going to throw a party? 386: Bell yes, we are! Now... what's a party? SOME BUILDERS ARE BUILDING A BUILDING The Swords and I had very different approaches to our new land and our new line of credit. Even though the end of the world was, like, literally nigh, I couldn't waste the cash I had. I just couldn't. Maybe I should go back a couple of steps. So you might remember the scene in the bank where the beige dude found out he was about to die and gave us a credit line out of spite. I took that piece of paper and went to a weapons shop and tried to use it like a credit card so I could buy an enchanted crossbow but the guy was like 'no bro, that's a building loan you can only use that money to build things on your land what are you stoopid lol?' and I was like 'oh soz' and he was like 'no I'm soz for laughing but I only have ten days to live so I don't really care any more you know what I mean?' and I was like 'oh, lordy, I feel ya' and we probably should have taken the conversation a bit further but we didn't. So I thought about my original plans and for one of my plots I definitely wanted an inn with a big sawdusty pub on the bottom and quaint, quiet rooms on the top and I had enough money to get that started but it wouldn't be anywhere NEAR finished by the end of beta. I could have chosen a smaller building and paid double to get it rush-finished but that's just throwing money away, right? I don't know how rich I'd have to be to live like that but even in an ONLINE GAME where everything would soon TURN TO DUST I just couldn't do it. So I got the builders started on my inn and I enjoyed tracking their slow progress. (Which you can enjoy now, in your mind, during this montage you are reading, however fast you want. I suggest 1.5 speed.) SOME DIFFERENT BUILDERS ARE BUILDING A DIFFERENT BUILDING, DIFFERENTLY Meanwhile the Swords had decided there was a gap in the market for lumber and paid to rush a sawmill and even planted a forest nearby. Because it's a montage you're allowed to imagine a tree growing fast in stop-motion. You know, with a stupendously fast day-night cycle and people being in frame for a microsecond and then vanishing while the trunk thickens and buds turn to leaves. I thought it was interesting how the Swords had such a different attitude to this than me. I mean they had tons more land than me and they were OBVIOUSLY more comfortable with the amounts of money sloshing round and they also had the right idea when it came to everything being about to EXPLODE but still. It made me itchy just thinking about it. Isn't that bonkers? (They said they wanted to see the screens and options you got when you owned an industrial building, which not many players had managed during the whole beta stage.) Oh, and yes, I AM the kind of guy who finishes an RPG with 99 healing, mana, and stamina potions in my quick use inventories. WASTE NOT, WANT NOT. Long story short, by the end of beta, the Swords will have a fully-functional sawmill and I'll have the shell of an inn. ANOTHER MEETING - MAYBE THE CAMERA IS ROTATING FAST AROUND THE ROOM TO MAKE IT MORE VISUALLY INTERESTING BUT IT'S JUST SOME PEOPLE TALKING AND ONE OF THEM DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A HEAD We talked about what we'd do in the new world. I said that because I had this 6 months of VIP access I'd try to find some unique angle again, do some streaming and maybe make a little cash on the side. I'd decide on my new character late during Day One - definitely not a card-throwing magician, this time - and start trying to find a cool scam or loophole like with the dungeon consultancy thing, and hope I had enough time for it to build up a head of steam so I could have enough fans by the end of the 6 months to make it worthwhile. As I got to the end of my little speech, the guys looked at me in confusion. I'm pretty sure it was Ben who said, "But don't you want to be part of our guild?" and I laughed and told them stories about how bad I was at the game. And that confused them even further, which I didn't understand then but I do understand now. Anyway, I told them I thought I was good at the weird stuff around the fringes of the BetterVerse and if they found something like dungeon consultancy I'd be excited to hear about it. And then 386 asked if we'd teach him about how human cultures dealt with death and we got talking about that. It was really fascinating, actually. The Swords were really well educated and had traveled a lot. But not just traveled - they'd shown interest in the places they'd been. Mexico, Europe, Japan. You know a conversation is going well when 386 barely says anything. CIRCE POLKA JR. He leers at the viewer, but his face is strangely unchanging. Something hits him in the nose and the camera pans back to reveal his image is being used as a dart board. (He didn't reappear before the end of beta. Presumably whatever bothered him about 386... didn't bother him enough to spend his last days doing something about it. Damocles said he had some interesting leads but I said he should focus on finding tunes he liked that we'd be allowed to play during the party.) LENNIE Lennie was learning new songs and getting more and more attention from the Swords. Charles tried to get him to play two-player games, like the bigger Spider Smash versions, but Lennie only really lit up when gambling and Charles wasn't too keen on that section. But Charles could play the cello a little, and the two of them knocked out some duets from time to time. It made me sad to think that Lennie would soon be put to sleep, but I'd helped him have a good end to his life so I didn't get too maudlin about it. THE MONTAGE SLOWS DOWN AND THE MUSIC GETS ALL WEIRD AND YOU REALISE THE MOOD IS CHANGING IN A WAY YOU DON'T LIKE "Three B," said 386. "Sit down. You need to see this." I went into the cinema room - now expanded to have 6 reclining chairs - and stretched. There was a video on the screen, ready to play, with a giant pause icon in the middle. "Is this a deepfake?" "No." "Is it live?" "No, it's from last night. But don't throw your toys out of the pram." "Pram?" "Perambulator." 386 sighed. "Buggy. Crib." "Why would I?" "When the bad thing happens, just take a deep breath and count to eight." "Why eight?" "I've seen the way you do maths. You use your fingers. Now, watch." I was frowning at my hands and tried to push my attention up to the screen - it wasn't hard. The dungeon wasn't in fun, theme-park mode. It was in hyper-serious nighttime defense mode. Charles was on the screen, alone. He looked furtive. "When was this?" "4 in the morning." "What!" I remembered that Charles had logged off early. He said he just wanted to show his face, give 386 a bit of mana, k I'm out bye see you later. But here he was, using the rest of his minutes to... what? On screen, Charles looked down a dark corridor. My grand design for the protection of 386 was basically just one long string of tiles with a glowing red ruby visible at the end, and the shadowy outlines of traps and monsters in between. Charles paused, listened, then took his sword out and moved towards the first trap. The screen froze. "Billy-Bob, please sit back down. I'm still alive. You know that voice in your head? The educated, erudite one, I mean. That's me. Not dead." "Oh," I said, settling back onto the recliner. "Good point." But I was still as tense as an English test. "Play." 386 was I thought, probably extremely lethal, even to a level 20 paladin type like Charles. But we'd never tested it. No-one had been been motivated to kill 386. Until now.