Fandom Island and Town

When the mailman from the mainland stopped in to drop off some letters, he just stared at all the colors in the post office. Most of the postal workers got nervous under his gaze and scurried into the back, which Rude made a mental note of. Whatever they were under their disguises, he was pretty sure they weren't human -- at least, not if some of the things in the break room fridge were supposed to be "food". Maybe they were worried they'd be found out.

The mailman wasn't interested in them, though. His gaze locked on the colorful display of collectible stamps, and he stood in front of it, transfixed, for what seemed like ages.

Rude watched him silently from behind the counter. Eventually, he raised an eyebrow a fraction of a millimeter and asked, "You... gonna buy some?"

Instead of being behind the counter today, Rude stood inside the Post Office's doors, watching the streets outside. Should any of the bizarre wildlife try to attack, the Post Office would be defended. Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night would stay these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.

Another week, another strange location, and another strange visitor from the mainland.

This time, it was a disgruntled-looking merchant trying to contact a debtor who'd disappeared leaving a large bill behind. He seemed to think that the strange island would be able to deliver the letter better than the Pony Express, and Rude just shrugged and didn't argue. He didn't have any idea how far Hill Valley, California, was from this part of Colorado, after all. He ALSO wasn't sure what kind of postal code "AD1985" was.

The Fandom Post Office's normally smooth workings hit a snag when someone came across a package addressed to someone named "Ghost", with the only address given as "The Shell". After Rude noticed the clump of workers discussing what to do with it, he glared at them until they came and handed him the box. Not that he knew what to do with it, either. He just set it on the counter next to him and glared at it from time to time.

Luckily, the situation resolved itself when a courier from the (new) mainland arrived to take it to its final destination. The man called himself "The Deliverator" and carried a katana, but all his papers were in order, so Rude processed the forms and handed over the package.

The sense of accomplishment lasted until his lunch break, when it wasn't until after Rude had finished heating his soup in the microwave that he discovered there was no spoon.

It was entirely too hot here, in this new place the island had moved to. And scuttlebutt said there were pyramids somewhere over on that new land. It wasn't that Rude disliked pyramids per se, it was just that he'd had a bad experience with one trying to crush him.

It didn't help that the post office staff all seemed to be busy today carrying miniature pyramids around the place. Not mailing them, just carrying them from one side of the lobby to the other, and then back.

One of them had even given Rude a pyramid to wear as a hat.

Rude sat in the Perk nursing a coffee and watching the street outside the window.

Yup.

It wasn't proper coffee, of course -- there were all sorts of undertones of high-quality beans, and no hints of the burnt dregs of yesterday's brew. And it wasn't nearly strong enough. Still, it was drinkable, and that was what counted.

(Open Perk is open!)