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Sol 10 is Magic, You Know is the second episode of Sol 10.
| Sol 10 | |
| Season 1, Episode 2 | |
| Air date | 15/4/2017 |
| Written by | Sol |
| Directed by | Sol |
| Episode Guide | |
| Previous Sol 10 and When It Started |
Next Sol 10 Imagines Dragons |
Summary[]
Sol and Laika stumble across the magic man, Hardeen Goldrich. Jules prepares for the fight against Apocalypse Now, the black behemoth.
Bookmarker[]
Last time on Sol 10, we were introduced to Sol, a boy with no particular place to go. After the death of their original master, the Omnitrix and the mechanical behemoth Laika chose to follow Sol as he embarks on a quest out to the mythical sunshine state of California.
Plot[]
After looking out on the horizon and seeing that frightful sight on the other side of the window, you decide it’s best to warn the citizens of Paris that they are in a lot of danger, even if most of them are human trash. It’s the right thing to do, you think.
After your upward movement, you discovered that this floor contains monitors and consoles, just like the bottom floor below it. Actually, now that you think about it, all of the floors below you do. You begin to marvel over how convenient all of this is. In addition to that, you can recognize some of the machinery in this top room from your childhood. Some of this is radio equipment. You begin to fondly remember your experience as a radio DJ from a few weeks prior to this. The stars have aligned, you realize. It’s time for your resurgence into the industry.
You grab the microphone from the desk and fondle at the controls until a light flickers on. You press down the red button labeled ‘Parler’. From your knowledge of the French language (gained through Google Translate), you deduce that that word clearly means ‘talk’. You press down on it. It lights up.
After a few minutes, you decide that you should surely have started to ‘parler’ by now. “Yo, it’s uhh, Revolution Radio here. We’re back again,” you start, trying to test the sound systems. You hear your voice echoing from the labyrinth of city streets below.
“Yo, it’s your homeboy Jules Ezra here and I’m here to tell you the weather report for the Ile de France. You might be telling yourself, yo, it’s gloomy as hell over here and stuff. It never changes. We got like pea soup for days, like man, I wish we could bottle this stuff up and donate it to some starving Africans or something. Well, actually, yo, I was using the phrase ‘weather report’ to indicate something else. If you’ll all turn your eyes to the…” You pause your foray into the radio business for a bit as you pause to look for the north star located up in the sky (where stars are almost always found, unless there’s a real problem).
But, you find that there are quite literally millions of stars in the sky.
Well, crap. Despite it being the future, you still don’t know your compass directions. Perhaps this is a side effect of the fact that they are a construct of our minds? You’ll have to find a landmark.
“Just look for the big black guy off on the horizon. And no, I’m not talking about Big Jo down at Boulevard Hassman. Love ya Big Jo. I’m talking about the big nasty flying black guy. He’s not actually like African American or… African French? Whatever you cheesy baguette eating surrender monkeys call them, it’s irrelevant. He’s the one who’s like, enveloped in a coat of darkness and despair. Hovering over the horizon. The only thing in the sky. Yeah. That thing. Take cover or you’ll probably die. Go down into the catacombs. This huge old m.A.A.d city has them for a reason. But, uhh, yeah. That’s pretty much all the advice I have for dealing with this guy. Peace out, my dudes.”
You just realized that since this is the area formerly known as France, only a select few will understand what you’ve said. You should really work on improving your linguistics.
Now that your broadcast is over with, you are faced with a multitude of choices. You could escape this place and run from the threat looming on the horizon, fortify the place and prepare to defeat him on your own turf, or seek him out to save the city of Paris and the lives of those whom live within its borders.
But, of course. You can’t believe you’ve forgotten the most important choice of them all. Instead of doing any of that, you’re going to continue watching a prepubescent teen walk around with a strange man in a metal suit of armor, of course.
YEARS IN THE PAST, BUT NOT MANY
“Hmmm…” Sol stated, peering through the bushes to see the RV parked in the lot. His dirty blonde hair was now noticeably dirtier, his face was covered in dirt and mud, and his clothes were mildly torn. “Should we attempt this, Laika?”
“Should you attempt to break into a man’s RV and steal his belongings? Of course you should, Sol. Of course you should,” the Omnitrix cut in, just so she could continue to mock Sol, which she had already been doing for the entire journey.
“Shut up, dude, I never asked to carry you around on my wrist… Besides, I haven’t eaten or showered in over twenty-two days…”
“We left the crash site a mere 36 hours ago, Sol,” the Omnitrix stated with inherent accuracy. So far, their trip had only consisted of them following the highway, Sol falling down a hill, following another road instead, Sol wondering if they were going in circles (they were not), and off-roading and taking a forest detour. In addition, Sol had been complaining of hunger without stopping.
“Dude, I know… That’s why I said like...”
“You say ‘like’ regardless of the situation, you fool. Besides, I find it extremely plausible that you didn’t shower for three weeks previously either. But it’s still no excuse for breaking and entering.”
“Just, screw off. I’m going to try to do this anyways, without any of your dumb help or morals…” Sol mumbled, getting off his haunches and onto his feet.
“Master, I think it would really… facilitate… your entrance to maybe use one of the heroes stored inside of the Omnitrix to enter the… thing! It would really make things simpler…”
“Sh-shut up!” shouted Sol, marching off towards the RV. “…Sorry!” he yelled back, after realizing how jerk-ish he probably seemed to Laika. Like always, Laika did not care. He understood his own faults.
Instead, Laika was more preoccupied on another task, which was mainly focused around not being an absolute foil to Sol’s plans. That would have been no fun and gotten us nowhere. You’re trying to keep this one a short read, after all. No one wants to read two thousand words mainly consisting of Sol trespassing. “But wait! Master! What should I do?”
“Umm, I don’t know dude. Keep a lookout. Laika, you’ll be my vigilant watchdog.”
With that, Laika felt responsibility thrust onto his shoulders like he was Atlas. He did not falter or fear it, he accepted his duty with honor and vigilance. He thrust his chest out into the air and put his hands on his hips to assume a position similar to Super-Man or another superhero. “Of course, sir!”
Sol paused when he reached the back window of the RV. He turned around to face Laika. “You probably think I’m… scared… or something, of using this watch…”
“No, of course not!” shouted Laika, trying to console his master.
“I don’t think, I know. It’s obvious,” replied the watch, full of scorn and hatred as usual.
Sol was mildly shocked at the Omnitrix’s response and did not believe Laika’s. “I… just don’t want to use the Omnitrix unless I have to! My DNA may become tolerant… Tolerances always ruin the fun things.” Sol made up the excuse for his own sake. Laika believed it, but you and the Omnitrix knew better, silently chuckling to yourselves.
Sol pawed at the back window for a bit, trying to find a weak spot so he could just pop the glass out of its frame. Unfortunately for Sol, nothing is every that simple. That would be just dumb. All he managed to do was get the back window all dirty, and he didn’t even manage to do it that well. It would take a few minutes of cleaning, maybe, but nothing that bad.
Sol sighed and moved on, beginning to pace around the RV. Hey, maybe the owner left the doors unlocked, he thought to himself with pure idiotic optimism. So, he went to the front door of the RV. He noticed it was inscribed with some letters, something like “Hardeen”. He considered that maybe this Hardeen fellow was the owner of the truck, but realized that no parent would ever name their child something like “Hardeen” and assumed that Hardeen was instead the brand of the RV. Sol cleared these thoughts out of his head before he pulled on the handle. Nothing happened.
So naturally, he chose the path that his ancestors and people today still try every now and then.
They just tried harder.
The problem with trying harder is that you don’t try hard to do something, you try hard to do something specific. In this case, Sol tried to pull on the handle too hard. The handle just popped off of the door. Sol stared, mouth agape, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
“I know what you’re thinking, Sol. This doesn’t make your situation easier. It makes it much worse,” the Omnitrix informed Sol, hoping to trim off any more excessive branches of idiocy before they bloomed.
“Hmmm….” Sol wondered out loud. “Do you have any solutions, Omnitrix?”
“Yes, but I know you won’t follow any of them exactly as I tell you, so therefore there is no point in telling you at all.”
Sol knew she was right deep down, so he continued his orbital pacing.
“Oh, you know what? Screw it.” Sol thought, heading over to a pile of bricks conveniently located in the makeshift parking lot. He grabbed one and threw it into the window on the door. It certainly had an impact, with the glass shattering and scattering all over the ground. Luckily for Sol, there was no alarm.
Sol approached the compromised vehicle and inserted his hand through the shattered window. He turned his arm around inside, until he managed to open the door from the inside. “American ingenuity!” he declared.
“Mhm.”
Sol did not attempt to force that dying conversation to bleed out and live any longer, so he just stepped inside of the vehicle wordlessly.
ONE HOT SHOWER AND ONE HOT MEAL LATER
Sol stepped out of the RV about an hour or two later. Before he left, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He wore the same torn, dirty clothing he had started his journey with; a red lumberjack flannel, a black T-shirt with the logo of some obscure indie band you have probably never heard of before on the front, and faded jeans that were fading even faster.
He quickly ran out of the RV, stopping to look around for Laika. He waved and made a “come hither” gesture.
“Laika!”
“Sol!”
The two reacquainted each other.
“Master, I must say you are looking much cleaner than you did before!”
“Yes, Laika, that’s the point behind a shower,” Sol explained. He thought Laika was a foolish, perhaps, before he realized that no, Laika was obviously an alien. “You see, we let water take the dirt away from our skin.”
“Incredible! But why?”
That question would haunt Sol for the remainder of his life. Why did people shower? Would it not be more beneficial to embrace the filth until one had an armor of dirt built upon their skin, Sol thought? It would certainly deter predators.
“I… don’t know…” Sol cleared his mind of any more ‘philosophy’ or deep thoughts (not that there were many to begin with). “But let’s stop thinking about this. Where are we, Laika?”
The Omnitrix began to inform Sol. “You’re 35 miles from-“
“Did I ask you!? I asked Laika!” Sol preferred to get his answers from an unknown lifeform contained in a suit of armor rather than an all-intelligent computer program hosted in a pinnacle of universal technology.
Laika gushed over the attention. “While you were showering, I used my incredible watchdog powers to take notice of the area. We seem to be at some type of performance venue, and there’s a performance venue going on right now!”
“A free shower, meal, AND free entertainment? This day just keeps getting better and better…” Sol thought. Perhaps today would be the day that he’d finally find a girlfriend, too? “Laika! Let’s go watch the show!”
“Sol. Remember that Laika must stay hidden at all times. People have already seen him, no doubt about that, but it’s best that he stays hidden from huge crowds like this,” the Omnitrix reminded Sol. Should Laika be seen by many at once, it would be almost certain that people would throw a fit or cause a panic. While that would be something rather easy to handle, Sol couldn’t accomplish that with his lack of experience or training with the Omnitrix.
“Yeah, I remember. Laika, follow me. You can just hide behind a tree or something bigger.” With that, Laika and Sol began the walk to the performance. Of course, Sol, in a rush, neglected to ask Laika on what the performance was. However, given Laika’s knowledge of present-day Earth culture, or rather lack thereof, he probably wouldn’t have known anyways.
Eventually, they arrived. It wasn’t that far of a walk, really. Maybe five minutes at most. Still, it was an ‘eventually’. The duo (or trio, rather) found themselves staring at a large crowd. Sol pointed at a large tree for Laika to hide behind, as Sol rushed forward to become another droplet of water in the ocean of people.
A magician stood on the stage, looking out at the audience. He wore a black suit, with a blue-violet rose pinned at the center of his chest, with complementary white shoes and gloves. He had spiky, dark black hair that jutted out from underneath his average standard-issue magician’s hat. He would look simply magnificent if he wore one of those masks that obscured his nose and eyes, Sol thought. Across from him was a woman in an embezzled white leotard and a matching white magician’s hat.
“You, child!” the magician called out. He extended a finger, pointing it to the back of the crowd. The crowd all turned to look.
He was pointing at Sol.
“Yo…” was Sol’s awkward, nervous mumble of a response. He nervously waved.
“Come up onto the stage! You’re the volunteer for my next trick!”
Sol didn’t remember volunteering, and he pretty sure you had to actively voice your consent to be considered a volunteer. Regardless, this magic man seemed cool, so Sol complied and began to make the walk up to the stage. He took the stairs on the right side and stood to the right of the magic man.
“Child, what is your name?”
“Uh…”
“I’ve never heard such an intriguing name before, uh!” the magician joked. A few small chuckles and chokes were forced out of the audience. Sol’s face expression stayed blank and unamused. He either hated the joke or just didn’t get it. “But…
“You don’t have to worry about telling me your name, I already know it, Sol.”
Some people in the crowd gasped. After the crowd gasped, Sol and Laika gasped in response to the loud gasp elicited by the crowd, and then once more after they realized that the magician had just guessed Sol’s name correctly.
Some idiot in the crowd, perhaps more ignorant than idiotic, decided it would be best to voice his convictions based on his knowledge of true magic. “FAKE! He’s one of those… Dudes you put in the audience!” There almost definitely happens to be word for that, Sol was sure of it. He knew it was common practice for people in the entertainment to put fake people in the audience to trick the other people in the audience. Sol began to believe this yelling idiot, until he realized that would mean that he was fake. Sol was almost entirely sure that he was a real, genuine boy, and he was going to make people sure that he knew it.
“How can I be one of those dudes if I don’t even know what this magic man’s name is?” he called out.
“Haha! What a joker!” laughed the magician. “How could you…” his voice began to falter and crack. “…Not know of the magnificent Hardeen?”
Sol began to crack up a bit. Hardeen was the dumbest name he had ever heard… or seen! A sudden realization crept up on Sol’s sleeping mind. He had seen that name on the side of the RV, so therefore, this must be the owner of the RV that he had just taken advantage of!
“Incredible! You’re the magnificent Hardeen!” Sol shouted. “You’re my favorite magician!” Believe it or not, he wasn’t lying. Sol did really favor Hardeen over any other magician. That’s because any other well-to-do magician would have tried harder to prevent intruders into his RV. The longer he thought about this, the more Sol’s thoughts began to wander. Did Penn and Teller count as magicians? He could never remember what they did. The sound of the Penn guy’s voice- he is the one with the glasses, right? Sol thought- was so relaxing to Sol’s ears. He was pretty sure that they had an amazing sense of humor. The more Sol thought about this, the more Hardeen descended on Sol’s list of favorites.
“Of course! Everyone has heard of me! And if they haven’t, I just use a little bit of mind magic!” Hardeen winked at Sol. That’s kind of screwed up, Sol thought. But he went along with it.
“And now!” Hardeen spoke up once more, addressing the audience. “We’ll make this kid disappear! Bianca, open the magic box!”
Sol wasn’t ready to disappear yet, he decided. The magician’s assistant made her way over to the box in the center of the room and undid the locks, opening it and revealing… nothing but eternal blackness! Sol likened it to staring off into a starless midnight-sky. An all-enveloping darkness slowly crawled out of the box, gripping the sides.
“Well, boy. Can’t sit there like that all day. You’re a volunteer, remember? Go on.”
Sol was beginning to have second thoughts about the volunteering he never did, and Hardeen could sense this. He quickly shoved Sol into the box, smiling to the audience. “He’s just a bit apprehensive, that’s all.” The crowd laughed, as Sol tumbled face-forward into the darkness. Bianca shut the door behind him.
Eventually, Sol stopped falling. That was when he hit the ground. He landed face first onto a different variant of stage. When he looked up, a mixed crowd of angry and surprised Latino people were staring back at him. He looked back down, peering towards the Omnitrix. On the faceplate was a blinking map of Mexico. Sol sighed. At least he was farther than home than he ever thought he’d get.
“El diablo!” One of the people from the audience shouted. Sol didn’t know much Spanish, but he knew a cognate when he heard one. A few people shouted more things, these Sol did not understand (what’s a pen-day-ho? Sol innocently wondered), but he knew they were not meant to inspire any breed of friendliness.
“Donda esta la mariachi?”
“Cada solo fiesta…”
“Oh, geez…” Sol started to say, getting onto his feet. As he did, one of the Mexicans (the one who decided that this white boy who replaced their band obviously was the devil) from the audience, with greying hair pulled back into a mustache, an aged face, killer aviators, and an all-around rough-look, pulled something out from underneath the table. Sol really didn’t want to know what it was.
The man continued to run up onto the stage as Sol finally got onto his shaky feet. Sol looked across the room he was in. It was painted purple and pink and all sorts of wonderful feminine colors. Banners were hung with the number “15” and “Feliz Quinceanera, Mexi!”. The people were dressed in their best. Sol innocently smiled at the crowd. A few of the girls, not many, blushed and waved back. Score. Women ensured, Sol looked back over at the man who had now reached the stage. He muttered something, lowered his shades, and brought his double-barreled shotgun up to Sol. This day could not get any worse.
He fired. People shrieked and shouted. A few people in the crowd grabbed their cell phones from their pockets and began to call the local authorities. A savior from the crowd grabbed a hunting rifle from the lodge’s wall, loaded it, and aimed it at the villainous shotgunner. “Rodrigo! Tu eres muy loco!”
As the shrapnel raced at Sol, he began to see his life flash before his eyes.
He had done nothing at all with it, and for that, Sol began to feel a bit disappointed. He had no legacy. During that very moment, Sol vowed that if he lived through this, or was reincarnated, he would live life to the fullest.
He did not accept his death.
The Omnitrix sensed this renewed taste for adventure in Sol through his muscles tensing and the overflowing determination flooding through his veins.
The bullets grew closer to Sol, so the Omnitrix had to take action and defend her fear-paralyzed master. A rippling, white aura of magnetic energy projected itself before Sol, stopping all the shells in midair. The crowd gasped.
“I’m not doing that again, Sol,” the Omnitrix advised Sol, giving him an honest forewarning. “I could always find a new master.”
Sol nodded, as a bullet from the Mexican with a hunting rifle pierced the side of his knee. Sol cried out in agony. “I have no choice… I have to use the Omnitrix if I want to survive this!”
He quickly rose his trembling left hand and brought it just above the Omnitrix. He looked up to see the first Mexican reloading. “Here… We… Go!” He shouted, slamming down on the faceplate of the Omnitrix.
Sol was consumed in a flash of white light. He could feel his DNA changing, going through a strange metamorphosis, with hundreds of thousands of chromosomes being replicated and distributed to newly formed cells in every moment. Sheets of metal began to descend out of his shoulders, knees, and ribs, covering his body in a seemingly impenetrable suit of armor. It seemed as if his skin was merging with this new layer of metal sheets. His shoulders flared out, before plates covered them. The plates looked like jet wings. His torso began to become that of a V-shape. His legs and fingers began to lengthen while his knees, elbows, and other joints became incredibly sharp. White lights began to illuminate his body, and before the transformation ended, a metallic helmet emerged and ‘swallowed’ his head. The helmet ended in a flathead, with a horizontal line for a visor, and lacked most other facial features, save for a very pronounced chin. Two metallic wires shot out of the sides of his head before folding down, becoming antennae. Just as fast as the transformation had started, it ended.
“Foo Fighter!” The Omnitrix echoed inside of Sol’s head. It no longer had any impact upon the physical realm.
“Incredible… I feel so strong!” Foo Fighter thundered. His voice sounded like a con man talking into a spinning fan. He began to rise a few inches off of the ground. Sol obviously wasn’t used to three-dimensional movement this limitless and took a few seconds to adjust himself.
“Rodrigo tiene razon! El chico gringo es un diablo!”
“El es no diablo normal! El es un diablo de espacio!”
“Ay caramba!”
“Tenemos que correr!”
The crowd of Mexican party-goers began to panic, jump out of their seats, and run to the exits. The two noble, brave old men who attempted to kill a strange 13-year-old boy began to shake, their guns held only loosely in their grasps.
“I’m not going to be defeated that easily!” Foo Fighter announced. Through pure instinct, he flexed the muscles on his abdomen and released two discs from his sides. The two discs flew before him, pausing under his outstretched hands. They spun in circles, and as they spun, they expanded. They had bright, circular white lights on their tops and segmented lights along their circumferences. They finally stopped spinning and expanding as they reached meter-length in diameter. “Let’s see what I can do!”
With that, Foo Fighter commanded his two metallic-laser Frisbees to move forward. They complied, because they were nothing more than the equivalent of flying Roombas intended for mass destruction. Or discstruction, if you will. It would have been silly if they didn’t comply.
The two discs resumed moving forward and spinning at incredible speeds, targeting the two men who had targeted Sol. What goes around, comes around. In this case, it was discs. They almost instantly sliced through the two men, as if they were knives cutting through cheese. And in this case, we needed some of that spaghetti cheese. You know the type. The really flaky cheese grater type. That’s how much cutting these discs did.
They didn’t stop cutting, either. After they cut through those men, they continued cutting. They sliced through the rest of the Mexicans, save for the special guest of the party. No one would even consider ruining her birthday party, after all. The discs were heartless machines with no thoughts and processes of thinking, that relied off of radiowaves transmitted from Foo Fighter’s two antennae, but even they had morals. They paused and hovered in place, making that cool hovering noise that hovering things seem to do.
Meanwhile, in Sol’s head, the Omnitrix laughed a maniacal laugh that deeply troubled Sol. He didn’t want to interrupt her, though. That would be spoiling her fun. On the list of things Sol didn’t want to be, killjoy was number one. Especially when it came to newfound friends bound by literal flesh and blood.
In order to get his mind off of the Omnitrix’s growing psychopathy, Sol looked over the battlefield. Or rather, the former-panic at the disco. There was now blood splattered all over the dancefloor. What an absolute disgrace! Some unlucky Mexican would have to clean all of this up. Sol spent some time debating over whether that joke was racist in his head, before he deduced that it wasn’t because Mexicans did inhabit Mexico in quite a large quantity and therefore most of the janitorial jobs in Mexico would be filled by Mexicans. Probably.
“Listen, Ms….” Foo Fighter paused to read the banners all over the wall. At least, the ones that hadn’t been repainted in human blood. “Ms. Mexi.” God, what a stupid name. “Sorry about ruining your party…. Uhh…”
The Omnitrix timed out, and Sol’s weak, inferior human body replaced Foo Fighter’s muscular, sleek form. Because he had been suspended in the air, Sol now found himself plummeting to the ground. He landed on his butt, embarrassing himself. He quickly got to his feet and ran up to Mexi. She was on the verge of tears.
“Listen… Just…” Sol awkwardly mumbled. He dipped his hand in some blood and painted the Omnitrix’s phone number on the table. You might ask yourself, why does the Omnitrix need a phone number? Well, that’s because Sol wanted to access a Google Drive account. To use Google Drive, Sol needed to activate a Google account. To activate his new Google account, Sol needed a phone number for verification purposes. For more information, see [1]. For more Sol 10, continue reading.
As soon as he had finished writing his phone number in blood (he had done quite a good job of it, too. Mexi could not deny that Sol had impeccable skill when it came to writing awkward and out of place messages in blood), Sol vanished. He was replaced by the Mariachi band from before. They continued to play, never ceasing. Mexi began to sob, mascara cascading down her cheeks.
“Incredible! I’m back!” Sol shouted, as he kicked open the doors to the box. Bianca posed in front of him, showcasing him to the audience. Hardeen was continuing to elicit gasps from the audience at lightning speeds.
“And… that’s all folks!” Hardeen finished, as the curtains began to close on him. Hardeen gripped the end of his cape, removed his hat, and bowed. The crowd went wild, still unable to explain what they just saw. Sol was surprised more of them did not boo him. That was an extremely short show. They certainly did not get their money’s worth.
Once the curtains had closed entirely, Hardeen turned to Sol. A shivering sensation overtook him, he certainly did not like this man. “Stop by after the show. I’ll let you have an autograph and I might even show you some tricks…”
“Uhh, sure, okay,” Sol blindly agreed. This was the creepiest man he had ever met, he realized. He quickly sped-walk off of the stage, taking the stairs to the right that he had taken in the first place.
He continued walking along the gravel lot as people emptied from it, before meeting Laika next to the tree. Laika seemed impatient, and as soon as Sol was in a meter’s distance, Laika practically jumped on him. He placed his miniguns on his shoulders.
Today, Sol had been creeped out more than he would ever have thought possible.
“Sol!”
“Laika!”
“Hardeen needs to be stopped!”
This shocked Sol. How dare Laika oppose the independent entertainment industry? Had he no respect for capitalism? Perhaps his name wasn’t just a coincidence, and he had been a communist the entire time! He readied his Omnitrix.
“He has MacGuffins, Sol! MacGuffins!”
That nonsense stopped Sol from potentially killing his friend. “What?”
“MacGuffins! Alternatively known as soul jars, vessels, or jujus, they are incredibly rare artifacts from the depths of the universe. Each one is packed with enough power to destroy a planet and sometimes even more. They’re supposedly birthed by the Void and now, they’ve reached Earth!”
“Wh-what?”
“Sol… If we can fetch and harness the powers from these MacGuffins, we may be able to find a way to bring my old companions back from the dead!” Laika realized, a new plan formulating in his simplistic brain.
Sol finally began to realize the implications of this. If he could steal the right MacGuffins, he would have UNLIMITED POWER and possess he capabilities of bringing that beautiful dame Artemis back from the dead! In Sol’s mind, if he could resurrect her, she would feel in debt to him and attempt to leverage that debt with thank-you sex! He could finally lose his virginity!
“Of course! Laika! Let’s steal these MacGuffins, for the good of humanity!”
It was not for the good of humanity. Nothing is ever for the good of humanity.
Still, with their combined stupidity and lack of morals, Sol and Laika began their quest to steal all of the Holy MacGuffins they could get their grubby little mitts on. Sol began the long walk to the back of the stage. If Laika’s massive shoulder span could have fit through the winding corridor, and if his guns wouldn’t get the police called on them, he would have surely accompanied his master-companion.
As Sol walked down the empty corridor to the back of the stage, he began to think of many things. First, he was concerned with the layout of the stage. Where did they all come from? Did they live in a nearby town? He assumed most of the cars out there were theirs. Did so many people waste their Saturdays to come out and see this singular crappy magician? Where were the rest of the entertainers? Why was the backstage empty?
The sudden kick in the back should not have come as a surprise to Sol, but it did. It should be no surprise that Sol is a massive idiot. That point has been beaten into the ground. If you haven’t noticed, I fear that you may be just as idiotic as Sol.
“Boy! Hand over your MacGuffin!” shouted Hardeen, as they both landed on the floor in different manners. Hardeen landed gracefully on his feet (which made absolutely no sense to Sol), while Sol landed face-first in the wooden floor. Splinters pierced his precious sub-par face. He never wood have anticipated any of this.
“Wh-what? I don’t have any MacGuffins!” Sol shouted, getting off of his feet.
“That thing on your wrist! I saw what it can do! The only solution is that it’s one of the Holy MacGuffins!”
“How!? How did you see what it can do? You were here for the entire time while I was using it!”
“I saw it in my crystal ball! I’m a magician of many talents!”
Of course, Sol thought! Hardeen must possess more MacGuffins than he and Laika had initially thought! This man was a walking plot boon. Defeating him and looting his fresh, wealthy corpse would accelerate their journey ten-fold.
“And now, you’ll hand it over to me, Sol!”
“How about, no!?” Sol shouted, as he quickly got onto his feet and attempted a running punch at Hardeen. Of course, a maneuver like that was impossible. Especially for someone as weak as Sol. He had never, ever done any training or exercise in his life. Hardeen easily managed to catch Sol’s fist in his palm. He twisted it and Sol recoiled in pain. With his free hand, Hardeen slapped the Omnitrix with his white-tipped black wand.
“Flavo zap!” the magician shouted, filling the device with amps of electricity.
Crappy Latin, Sol thought. This could only mean one thing; Hardeen knew true magics as well as fake magics!
As the magician continued to electrify the Omnitrix, Laika intervened in the situation. He emerged behind Hardeen and began to unleash a volley of dual machine gun fire onto both of them. Hardeen took notice and let go of Sol, preparing to defend himself.
“Tardo!” Hardeen shouted, as Sol laughed. He waved his wand in the general direction of the volley. Sol laughed again. He stopped laughing when he saw that the bullets had stopped in their tracks.
“And now, novis!” Sol paused to think, novice what? “I’ll reverse these bullets on you!” Oh. That explained it to Sol. More meaningless Latin. These translations probably weren’t even correct. Hardeen needed to invest in some better linguistics magics. Maybe he should pursue the Rosetta Stone instead of the Omnitrix.
The bullets turned 180 degrees to face Laika. If Laika’s face would have been visible, a look of endangerment and worry would have been visible.
“Eo!” Hardeen shouted, to start the bullets. They became un-frozen in space and fell to the floor. Clearly this was not what Hardeen anticipated. He did not factor in the fact that all motion and acceleration had been lost when he ordered them to stop. Laika and the Omnitrix both laughed.
“Omnitrix, how are you feeling?” Sol asked, pawing at the faceplate of the Omnitrix like a tiny little kitten to a window. In the words of Avril Lavigne, the scene was ‘super kawaii’.
“I’m doing fine. That electricity was just what I needed to wake up after a long bout of not kicking major butt for a good few minutes!” The Omnitrix shouted. Sol was aware of how corny that line was and was not in the smallest bit inspired.
“Well, let’s get our revenge on this guy for trying to steal our stuff! Omnitrix, let’s go!” Sol slapped down on the Omnitrix so hard it would have counted as abuse. Luckily, the Omnitrix was kind of into that.
Hardeen turned around to witness a new figure emerge in a flash of light.
“Laika, what’s this one called?” the new alien inquired. His body was pure black with white stripes that radiated through his body. His facial features and muscles were simple white outlines, aside from his eyes, which were pure white. His body was much more well-built than either Brightside or Foo Fighter. The Omnitrix was situated on the center of his back, which was exceptionally inconvenient.
“I’m not sure, the old captain never used it before!”
“Hmm…. I’ll call it…. Alien 2! It’s the second alien I’ve ever used! My naming scheme is flawless!”
“Ahh, Sol!” the magician taunted. “You can’t get close to me or I’ll attack you with all that I have! You’ll find no mercy.”
“I wonder what this guy can do…” Alien 2 monologued, not paying a penny of attention to the magician. “Hmmm…” Alien 2 stomped the ground. Everything on the ground, including Laika and Hardeen, went flying back against the wall. “Incredible! I can control vibrations! I think!”
“Yes, let’s just leave it at that. Any more detailed explanation would fry your simple teenaged brain.” The Omnitrix spoke into Sol’s head. Sol took a tiny bit of offense to this, but it didn’t stop him.
Alien 2 prepared his next attempt as Laika and Hardeen began to get off of the ground. “Laika, hold onto something!” Laika had thought of something even better, thanks to his suit being capable of analyzing the raw force Alien 2 exerted during his attacks. He activated the jet-boosters located on his sides, as he propelled himself into the air with a small jump. He oriented himself towards Hardeen, by far one of the more trickier foes he had met.
Hardeen had no time to fully recover from the last attack before Alien 2 hit him with another. He grouped his fists together and slammed down on the ground in front of him, creating a massive shockwave that pulsated through the floor. His muscles bulged from the raw energy. In a few seconds, the wave hit Hardeen, who was immediately thrown up and off the floor. He crashed through the walls behind him, which consisted of masonry, pipes, wires, and simple wood. Eventually he stopped, hitting the heavy drapes. He bounced off of them, landing on the stage floor.
Instead of flying through the holes in the wall, Alien 2 took the much lengthier path of the winding corridors and closed doors. Eventually, he opened the door to find Hardeen, fully recovered and on his feet.
“Incredible… You should be dead after that one!”
“Yes, incredible indeed. Luckily, I always keep a few Mighty Chondria pill bottles in my magician’s hat! I’m no fool.”
“Mighty Chondria pills?”
“Pills that immediately recharge all of your cells, rejuvenating your fighting strength! I’d offer you some, but it seems like we’re enemies!”
“Those won’t save you! I can continue to pound you for hours!” Even the Omnitrix chuckled at that one.
With that, Alien 2 slammed the wall next to him. This time, Hardeen knew to jump. The only result from this tremor was that Alien 2 had knocked the stage curtains loose, and they cascaded to the ground, obscuring him. Hardeen laughed, and landed gracefully on his feet next to the pile of curtains. Wasting no time, he grabbed his wand and violently tapped the fabric. “Flammo!”
With that, the mass of drapes instantly caught fire. Hardeen stepped back.
Engulfed in a cloak of fire, Sol had no choice but to change aliens. The Omnitrix knew this, and assisted in the transformation. Alien 2 was instantly engulfed in a bubble of indigo energy that quickly popped and faded. From underneath the cloak, silver blades quickly emerged and sliced away at the fabric. In seconds, the new alien was visible.
The alien’s body was that of a man wrapped in a faded blue turban, similar to a mummy. On his forehead was a small white jewel or thumbnail-like plate. Below the plate, his ‘eyes’ cold be found. His ‘windows to the soul’ were nothing more than gaps in the fabric that lead to holes in the void. Metallic blades emerged from the fabric on his arms and his back, surrounding him in a silver exoskeleton. His hands were covered in what appeared to be smooth white gloves instead of purple fabric. The telltale sign of his true identity, the Omnitrix, was only slightly visible, being obscured and tucked between strips of fabric. It was found where his navel had been before.
“Incredible! What alien is this?” Laika and Sol asked in unison.
“My data logs are empty. The only information this lifeform has that's close to a name was left blank.”
“Empty!” the alien shouted. Its voice sounded sly and ‘smoky’. “That’s my name, Hardeen. It shares the same adjectives as your future, none!” Sol really wanted to punch himself in the face for that one, but the blades on his wrists probably would have killed him.
“Ah, but check again! We’re separated by a field of fire! To slice me with your blades, you’d have to get close to me! You’d have to cross the ocean of flaming drapes. You’d have been better off in your previous form…” Hardeen chuckled, crossing his arms. “Checkmate.”
Sol felt hopeless in that moment, until he remembered that he had a person-sized mech with dual machine guns on his side. “Laika, open fire!”
Laika’s guns began to turn as he prepared to follow his master’s orders once more. It was now Hardeen’s moment to feel hopeless, and that he did, until he remembered that he had a magical MacGuffin magician’s hat with the ability to pull objects out of a pocket dimension.
“Laika, wait one minute…. You wouldn’t think about hurting…” The magic man quickly tore off his hat, sticking a hand inside and probing around like a doctor fated to be sued for malpractice. He pulled out a cute, seemingly innocent white runny babbit bunny rabbit. “An innocent runny babbit bunny rabbit, now, would you?”
Laika did not respond and just opened fire. However, he managed avoid shooting at Hardeen or the rabbit. He simply unleashed a barrage of bullets everywhere else on the stage. The floor and walls of the stage were soon riddled with bullets and began to crack from the damage. Empty, Hardeen, the rabbit, the flaming drapes, and the magical disappearing box fell to the floor. Utilizing this sudden change in the battlefield, Empty leaped into the sky and next to Hardeen. The rabbit quickly hopped away. However, due to his white coat (which prevented effective camouflage), he would not live a long life. He was killed by wolves in a matter of days.
DEAD.
“Aha! I’ve got you now!” Hardeen shouted. “You’re within range… of my wand…” He slowed his tongue’s roll as he turned around, noticing the intimidating, muscular shadow cast over him.
“It’s over, Hardeen! I have the high ground!” Laika shouted, before Empty gave him a certain look that told him he would handle it. You see, idiots seem to have a way of wordlessly communicating with each other. It’s the welfare of evolution.
“Doesn’t matter! I’ll still be able to kill Sol instantly!” Laika gasped. “That’s right, open fire and your precious Sol friend will be deader than a doorstop!” Unbeknownst to Hardeen, out there in the universe, there was a sentient race of doorstops who took great offense at this statement. They swore an oath that one day, when they discovered the secrets of movement, they would violently kill the magician and make an underappreciated metaphor out of him.
“Or not.” Empty finished, as he extended his arm. The metal blades and spikes that covered his body retracted. His fist still closed, he pointed his ringy arms at Hardeen’s wand. “Prepare to taste nothing!” A few rings of purple energy radiated from the rings, flying through the air like bubbles in a straight line. They stopped when they reached the magician’s wand.
The magician, unfazed, prepared a counter-attack. He swung the wand around, striking Empty’s clenched knuckles. “Evito!” He yelled, before nothing happened. Empty smiled. “Wh-what!?”
“That’s right! You’ve tasted nothing! Thanks to my absence powers, your wand is nothing but a fancy prop!”
“B-but how did you know about the alien’s powers!? I thought this was the first time this alien had ever been unlocked by the Omnitrix?”
“You’re right! But while you were focused on Laika’s miniguns, I tested my powers on the flaming drapes. After sticking my foot in, I found that the fire was no longer ‘hot’! Therefore, the Omnitrix and I reached the conclusion that Empty’s powers revolve around removing adjectives or other properties from objects. Your magic wand has devolved into just a wand!”
With that, Sol wasted no time in defeating the magic man. He punched him once, before elbowing him in the stomach. He went flying back into the disappearing box, with his magician’s hat, Mighty Chondria pills, and magic wand flying away from him in the process. Empty quickly slammed the box shut, teleporting the magician (hopefully) far away. Sol didn’t know if there was some kind of trick to using the box and frankly, he didn’t care. Using Empty’s tempered blades, he sliced the box diagonally. He didn’t really care if Hardeen had actually been teleported anywhere, he just wanted to use out the FANCY COOL CLAW SWORDS some more. They were SO COOL.
A few seconds later, cactus juice began to spill through the cracks. Hardeen had traded spots with a cactus, which meant that he was now somewhere far away; north-eastern America is not well known for its cactus population, even today. Despite that, Sol liked to entertain the notion that there were a few cactus farmers nearby. There simply must be cactus farmers.
DEAD.
With his job now complete, Empty reverted back to regular old boring vanilla Sol.
Laika took the opportunity to join Empty in the pit. He jumped down, accidentally smashing the wand lying on the floor into two in the process. He slowly moved a foot back to investigate what he had just stepped on. Before he could get a close look, however, he found that Sol had practically leaped onto it and was pawing at the ground like a kitten.
“Incredible!” Sol thought aloud as he greedily swallowed the ‘sugar’ that had spilled out of the now-defunct wand. “This tastes amazing… Like sugar, spice, and everything nice.” What an absolute cliché.
“Sol, what you are now ingesting happens to be the ground remains of pixies,” the Omnitrix kindly informed her wielder.
“Incredible…” Sol repeated. How many times had that word been uttered today?, the Omnitrix thought. Any more and she would go mad. “Laika!” the boy yelled, getting off of his hands and knees.
“What, master?”
Sol extended his arm and pointed at Laika. “Our quest has been extended! The Sol, Laika, and Omnitrix to-do list now consists of the following, in no particular order: Getting laid, gathering up all of the Holy MacGuffins, saving the universe, reaching the mythical, sun-shining land of California, and finding the secret treasure boon of pixie dust!”
“Incredible!” shouted Laika. The Omnitrix once again considered opening Task Manager and terminating herself. “We should get back on the road immediately! The universe could end at any moment, you know.”
“But wait… before we leave… We’ll need more materials for our journey. I don’t want to face the same problems as last time, where we didn’t bathe or eat for days.” Thirty-six hours, the Omnitrix silently thought to herself. She wasn’t sure how long she could remain attached to this insufferable child.
“We can loot and gather up everything around here and place it in the magic hat. I studied it very closely during our fight; studying is what I do best when I’m not shooting things. It’s a special-type of MacGuffin, one that contains a hole to a pocket dimension, where items can be stored and pulled out at will. There’s a name for these types of MacGuffins. I can’t remember it, but it’s at the tip of my tongue…”
You decide that was enough of Sol’s wacky antics and parallel dimension shenanigans for one day, so you decide to skip the next few scenes. You begin to flip the channels on your monitor, hoping to find something better.
SOMEWHERE OUT IN THE DESERTS OF NEW MEXICO
YEARS AGO, BUT NOT MANY
Note from the author: This is written in present perspective because of weird plot shenanigans. Don’t question it.
Hardeen wakes up next to a red boulder, in a patch of dry ferns. He can see nothing but the empty horizon for miles and miles. He attempts to brush the dirt and sand off of his clothes, but because his hands are covered in dirt, he only makes his black slacks dirtier. This act of stupidity causes him to want to bang his head off of the red boulder. Of course, before he takes advantage of that opportunity, he realizes that would probably actually kill him.
He sighs and looks around, searching for his magic wand. He finds it in a small puddle of mud. He considers drinking it, but concludes he’s not that thirsty. That would also probably actually kill him.
Sick of thinking about things that would kill him, Hardeen decides to make an effort to survive this horrendous experience. He pulls out his phone from the folds of his pants pockets and inserts his MAGIC WAND in its place.
“N-no! There’s no reception out here in the middle of nowhere!” He calls out, before falling to the ground in anguish. Capitalism is failing him for the first of many times in his life. After a few minutes of sobbing into the sand, he finally tilts his head upwards and sits back on his haunches. Placing a hand to his brow to shield out the intruding sunlight, he can see a shining white radio tower contrasting against the sands. He gets to his feet.
“How dare Sol strike me down with this minor inconvenience! Mark my words, I will have my revenge! I’ll take back my MacGuffins!”
Okay, that was pretty bad, you reflect. You honestly did expect something much better and of higher quality. You should probably to find something better to watch… Hmm. You begin to ponder, assuming a pose similar to that of the Thinker as you do so for maximum Thinkering and brainstorming potential. Maybe you can get some TV up here, to sate your nigh-undying thirst for entertainment. You break your terrible pose just to turn the dials on the TV monitor until you reach MTV, which has (of course) managed to survive the apocalypse. Nothing could ever end MTV. That being said, it is derived of its ability to create any new content. Now it only airs Saved by the Bell, Boy Meets World, and old 90’s music videos. God forbid they play anything with qualities other than “muh nostalgia”. You wouldn’t even consider killing someone for some good, quality content. You would do that in a heartbeat.
Sadly, you could never kill enough people to sate the telecommunications gods, and if you did, you would have killed too many. You sigh, capitalism failing you in this post-apocalyptic wasteland of an Earth, and watch the television.
Sic transit Gloria.
You quickly switch the channel, not noticing what channel you’ve switched to, and vow never to speak of or watch MTV again.
That’s a joke, of course. You’ll be sure to tune in the next time they air an episode of Jersey Shore. God, that show can be so nostalgic.
You pull your mind away from useless nostalgia and glue your eyes to the channel you’ve picked. On the screen is the spitting image of the front barricaded metal bunker door to the Eiffel Tower, barricaded by nothing but adjectives. That, and about a meter-thick wall of concrete reinforced by rebar. But, the fact that you can see the spitting image of the wall is not the important thing. Why, it would be silly if something as well defended as this redoubt didn’t have a working system of CCTV’s. The most shocking fact is that you can tell WHEN the image is being spat from.
It’s being spat at you from the future. How can you tell? Well, you point your eyes and read the small text in the top right corner of the channel. It seemed to be a watermark of some sort.
Unregistered Future Cam 3
That would be how you know.
Your eyes dart back to the center of the screen. As you stare at the monitor, you see an aging old man, seemingly of Italian origin, and a girl much younger than he, approach the vaulted door to your more than mildly defended redoubt. They pound on the door together and they just won’t quit. Silly wasteland dwellers, don’t they know the wonders of reinforced steel?
Still, they look remarkably helpless. You can’t help but feel pity for them… And the Karma Courts said you had no soul. If they could see you now…
As you think about your past experiences with multidimensional law practice, you notice a few gangsters approach the disfortunate duo. Conveniently, these gangsters have all found weapons, matching black leather outfits, metal chains, and hair gel in the apocalypse. You heartily applaud them on their scavenging skills. You wish they weren’t total jerks, because then you would consider hiring them.
Your last remaining hope in these men drains from your heart like the last puddle of water from a tub as they begin to make threatening gestures towards the innocent, harmless little girl.
The grandfather-like figure quickly takes action to defend the girl. This is a foolish but noble gesture, he’ll be defeated instantly. You shed a single tear for this man. It falls from your eye like a comet to the keyboard.
He attempts to punch one of the men, and the man, lacking all morals of any kind as many do in this era, strikes back. A sword is impaled into the grandfather’s chest. Luckily, the aggressor does not attempt to remove it. Still, it’s a grievous wound.
You turn from the monitor.
You pat down your breast pockets, making sure that your TRUSTY SIDEARM is still there. Of course it is, you’ve been sure that it’s never left your side ever since your old friend gave it to you. Deep down, you know that old pistol won’t be enough firepower.
So naturally, you do the sensible thing and grab the other gun. You know, the big purple energy rifle that you had a while ago. Yeah, that one. You’re not going to just let these people die. People being the innocent ones. The other guys? Oh, you’re going to go down there and give them hell. You head out to the balcony, and look down.
You jump.
You hope you don’t arrive late to the party, but you know that fate will prevent that. Time just won’t stop bending lately.
Alex?
oh hey dude
whats up
and stuff
Not much, just wondering where you are
You disappeared out of the blue
yeah its cool isnt it
Not really
oh
Alex?
what
Where are you?
don't worry about it
I'm going to worry
I'm going to get Peaches to worry
I'll make Peaches cry, Alex
pls no
peaches is too pure for this world
Tell me where you are, Alex.
i'm
i'm where it's at
Now is not the time for clever references, Alex
Laika's List of the Known Holy MacGuffins:
- Omnitrix (???) (retrieved)
- Disappearing Cabinet (???) (destroyed?)
- Hardeen's crystal ball (retrieved)
- Holy Grail
- Key to Gramercy Park
- Pandora's Box
- Sword'N'Board
- Gain Ax
- Unbreakable Katana
- Blade of Grass
- Slice of Life
- Excalibur
- Everlong
- Chekhov's Gun
- Happiness
- Silver Tongue
- Heart of Gold
- Helmet Hair
- Blood Red Shoes
- Hardeen's cape (retrieved)
- Hardeen's magician hat (retrieved)
- Mask of the Red Death
- Mask of Agamemnon
- The American Beauty
NEXT TIME ON SOL 10...
WHILE ON THE HUNT FOR A SWORD MACGUFFIN, SOL AND LAIKA FIND THEMSELVES IN THE MIDST OF A RENAISSANCE FAIR. HOWEVER, THIS RENAISSANCE FAIR IS A BIT HARDCORE AND COMBAT-ORIENTED. CAN SOL RETRIEVE THE MACGUFFIN WITH THE POWER OF THE OMNITRIX?
Characters[]
- Big Joe (mentioned)
- Apocalypse Now (debut)
- Sol/Alex
LAIKA
- The Omnitrix
- Hardeen Goldrich (debut)
- Bianca Blanca (debut)
- Mexi (debut)
- Rodrigo (DEAD.
)
- Countless other Mexicans (DEAD.
)
- Artemis (mentioned)
- Parisian thugs (debut)
- Old man (debut)
- Girl (debut)
- ???
- Peaches
Aliens[]
- Foo Fighter (debut)
- Alien 2 (debut)
- Empty (debut)
Trivia[]
- This episode is over 9000 words long. Sol 10's word count level just went through the roof.
- All of the Spanish in this episode was from Sol's personal knowledge of the language rather than Google Translate.
- The same cannot be said about the French.
- When this aired originally, Sol mixed up the text colors for Sol's friends.