Let's Read Animorphs! The Whole Series! Ch-ch-ch-chaaanges

The Something Awful Forums > Archives > Comedy Goldmine > Let's Read Animorphs! The Whole Series! Ch-ch-ch-chaaanges

«‹›236 »

Fritzler: Sep 5, 2007

Cythereal posted:

I think the lesson here is, never infest theater nerds.

I mean just nerds. Imagine reciting plot of all the terrible Star Wars books or the LOTR genealogy. Drive any yeerk mad.

# ? Oct 16, 2021 16:35

Adbot: ADBOT LOVES YOU

# ? May 23, 2024 23:02

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 42
Ax

quote:

The Time Matrix was surprisingly simple to operate. It could be directed by thought-speak command. There were no codes to break, no subtleties to grapple with.

Cassie told me the time and place and date. I morphed to human, made physical contact with the Time Matrix, and my friends did as well, keeping their own minds blank as possible.

And then, very swiftly, we emerged in bright sunshine in the middle of a crowded street.

Two humans, one male and one female, were staring directly at us. They did not appear to be alarmed.

�Whoa! Cool,� one said. He had a great deal of hair on his face and head. He wore colored beads around his neck. He wore vision augmentation devices with blue lenses. �Did you see that, man? I mean, is that like, real?�

The female had very long hair, also adorned with colored beads.

�What�s real, man?� the female wondered. �Real is just like � it�s like � you know, like whatever, right?�

�Right on.�

�Love, man. Love is like � you know. Like reality, right?�

�Huh?� the male asked.

�Um, what?� the female asked.

The two of them nodded in unison.

�Amazing,� Marco said. �The United States is gone, or at least way different; the Nazis never happened, Einstein, who knows? But hippies are right when and where they�re supposed to be?�

�What are hippies?� I asked. �Hip. Pees.�

�Dude, these are hippies,� Marco said. �Look at this place!�

I did as instructed and looked around. There was a large number of humans with very long hair and colorful beads.

�The Drode said our own timelines were buffered, protected. Maybe the Time Matrix did that for John, too,� Cassie suggested. �I mean, maybe while he was using it he couldn�t disrupt his own timeline. This is part of his timeline.�

Marco shrugged. �Or maybe hippies just had to happen, you know? Otherwise how would we have bell-bottoms?�

�Over there,� Rachel said, nodding toward a store. �That�s the place. John Berryman�s parents, John Senior and Theresa Knowlton, will meet right there, today. All we have to do is separate them. They don�t meet, they don�t get together, they don�t have a kid named John, and Visser Four ends up in some other host, in some other place. He never finds the Time Matrix, And none of it happens. Time
isn�t altered.�

�We never travel back in time,� Cassie said. �Jake doesn�t die.�

�Neither does a Hessian officer,� I said.

�Or a tank full of soldiers.�

�Or a Yeerk.�

�Or Hitler,� Tobias added. �How can we do this?�

�What do you mean?� Marco demanded.

�Oh, man, the colors, man!� A �hippie� had come up to admire the Time Matrix�s shimmering globe.

�Right, the colors, whoa! Cool! Go away. We�re trying to figure out the spacetime continuum here,� Marco snapped. �What are you getting at, Tobias?�

�Look, Visser Four changed history. Maybe for the worse. But maybe not. Hitler was just a lowly nobody. No Holocaust! We want to change it back so there was one?�

�You saw the way our future was,� Cassie argued. �We still had slavery. We had no freedom. The Drode said homeless people were rounded up and shot. We can�t let that happen!�

�But we can let the Holocaust happen?� Rachel demanded. �Tobias is right. That future we saw, that future we were in, that�s back when Visser Four had done all he did, but without us getting in his face. That was the result without our intervention. Maybe in that timeline he did ten more things. We don�t know what the result is with our intervention. Maybe the future is better now. Maybe us saving Henry, and even taking out that Hessian officer, I don�t know! Maybe ��

�Heavy, man. Way heavy,� a female hippie said.

�We could use the Time Matrix, travel back to our own time, see what�s happened. See if things are good,� Tobias said.

�Does that not seem foolish now that we see how complex that history is?�

�I�m just saying we go take a look,� Tobias said. �See how it all played out.�

�Hey, history is never �played out,�� Marco said heatedly. �We start messing with the past, we mess with the future. Maybe we like the way things look to us back in our own time, but maybe we�ve screwed something else up down the line.�

�We do that every day,� Rachel said. �Every time we do anything, or do nothing, we change the future. Why is this different? Look, let�s just go see. Maybe our own time is great now. I mean, maybe, right?�

�Why are we here?� a voice said.

Interesting meditation about changing history, there.

Chapter 43
Cassie

quote:

Five heads snapped.

Six pairs of eyes stared.

Four mouths and one thought-speak voice said the same word.

�Jake?�

He looked annoyed. �Well, duh. Like you don�t recognize me? Hey. How did we get back here?�

Here was my barn.

�You�re alive,� Rachel said to Jake.

He stared. �I really don�t like the way you guys are looking at me. You�re giving me the creeps.�

<What happened?> Tobias wondered. <How the oh, man. The hippie chick!>

�What? What hippie chick?� Jake demanded.

�It was Theresa Knowlton,� I said. �We didn�t have to make the decision. She saw us. She was distracted. She missed meeting Berryman�s father. Berryman was never born. It all never happened.�

�Excuse me!� Jake interrupted. �Why am I crossing the Delaware next to George Washington one minute and then I�m back here while you people babble about hippies?�

Berryman had never existed. The Time Matrix was where he�d found it. Buried.

We�d never gone back in history, except in our memories. Henry V had not seen a Hork-Bajir take to the field. Washington had crossed the Delaware and surprised the Hessian troops. Nelson and the British had defeated Napoleon�s fleet. Einstein had left Nazi Germany to find freedom from oppression at Princeton University, where he had set in motion the creation of the atomic bomb.

And on June 6, 1944, soldiers of the United States, Britain, and France had begun the final destruction of the evil man who, in another reality, had been nothing but a harmless old soldier.

�You died, Jake,� I said. �You died crossing the Delaware with Washington.�

I could see the spasm of shock on Jake�s face.

�Oh, my God,� he whispered. �Did � I mean, in the end, did we do it? Did we put it all back right? Did we make it right?�

I went to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

�No. We didn�t make it right. But we put it back, Jake. Leave it at that. We put it all back.�

The world's not perfect. It's not right. But it's the way it was, except for one John Berryman. And it ends with a kiss.

Tomorrow, we're starting a Marco book, The Reunion, ghostwritten by Elise Smith, who I've also seen credited as Elise Donner.

# ? Oct 17, 2021 03:15

WrightOfWay: Jul 24, 2010

Kind of a cop out that they never had to actually decide that changing history again was worth it.

# ? Oct 17, 2021 03:30

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

I never really understood why preventing Berryman from being born stops V4 from finding the Time Matrix, especially since the text here suggests that it was V4 in Berryman's body who found it, not something he found before being infested.

Epicurius posted:

Tomorrow, we're starting a Marco book, The Reunion, ghostwritten by Elise Smith, who I've also seen credited as Elise Donner.

I remember this being a good one!

# ? Oct 17, 2021 03:41

Soup du Jour: Sep 8, 2011; I always knew I'd die with a headache.

WrightOfWay posted:

Kind of a cop out that they never had to actually decide that changing history again was worth it.

I get that "changing history so that someone is never born and so the plot doesn't happen" is a concept that blows the intended audience's mind (I know it did mine), but I feel like the easier and less question-inducing solution is to kill V4 and John Berryman in the construction site right before they find the Time Matrix.

# ? Oct 17, 2021 05:00

Edna Mode: Sep 24, 2005; Bullshit, that's last year's Fall collection!

Or they could go to where the Time Matrix is buried and move it before Visser 4 finds it? Better than erasing an innocent guy from history. It seems like removing a marriage and birth from the timeline would have some sort of effect, although probably not on a noticable level.

# ? Oct 17, 2021 05:42

Fuschia tude: Dec 26, 2004; THUNDERDOME LOSER 2019

Edna Mode posted:

Or they could go to where the Time Matrix is buried and move it before Visser 4 finds it? Better than erasing an innocent guy from history. It seems like removing a marriage and birth from the timeline would have some sort of effect, although probably not on a noticable level.

Also, if he had any siblings, those changes would cascade out exponentially. And his parents potentially meeting and marrying other people, and having different children, would too.

# ? Oct 17, 2021 06:35

HIJK: Nov 25, 2012; in the room where you sleep

Fuschia tude posted:

Also, if he had any siblings, those changes would cascade out exponentially. And his parents potentially meeting and marrying other people, and having different children, would too.

Yah. It always gets messy like that with time travel stories. Personally I don't like them for that reason :v:

though it is science fiction so time travel is going to happen sooner or later.

# ? Oct 17, 2021 08:06

Pwnstar: Dec 9, 2007; Who wants some waffles?

I like that Rachel makes the point that never gets brought up, that every day we change history forever throughout our actions and not just when you do poo poo in the past.

# ? Oct 17, 2021 08:28

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

Pwnstar posted:

I like that Rachel makes the point that never gets brought up, that every day we change history forever throughout our actions and not just when you do poo poo in the past.

I mean, she does, I don't think I'm doing anything particularly monumental

# ? Oct 17, 2021 09:50

Pwnstar: Dec 9, 2007; Who wants some waffles?

freebooter posted:

I mean, she does, I don't think I'm doing anything particularly monumental

Ah yes but by not doing anything monumental you are changing history because there was the possibility that you could have. So by living an ordinary goon life you are actually doing something vitally important to the timeline and you can tell your significant other that next time you get nagged for not doing the dishes.

# ? Oct 17, 2021 10:39

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Pwnstar posted:

Ah yes but by not doing anything monumental you are changing history because there was the possibility that you could have. So by living an ordinary goon life you are actually doing something vitally important to the timeline and you can tell your significant other that next time you get nagged for not doing the dishes.

"Dear, if I wash those dishes, it's possible in the future, a nuclear war will devastate the earth, and I can't risk that!"

# ? Oct 17, 2021 16:15

Fuschia tude: Dec 26, 2004; THUNDERDOME LOSER 2019

HIJK posted:

Yah. It always gets messy like that with time travel stories. Personally I don't like them for that reason though it is science fiction so time travel is going to happen sooner or later.

The biggest problem in any self-consistent time travel story involving travel to the past with an attempt to change the present/future, especially an attempt to stop a different time traveler, is you're likely to create an endless time loop seesawing back and forth between the two timelines. Since the animorphs succeeded in unmaking the other time traveler, they have just obviated the whole reason they had to go back in time in the first place. Which means (if the story treated time travel properly) they have now created an infinite time loop between 1967 to 1999 in the "good" timeline, and then 1415 to 1999 in the "bad" timeline, repeating in alternating sequence forever.

The only way to "safely" travel to the past is to ensure you still have a reason to travel to that point in the past. It might be a different reason than in the original case, but it has to be a reason important enough to still make the time traveler want to go to the past.

In this case, as mentioned, obviously that could well be that that yeerk infests a different person and then goes on to discover the time matrix. Which means the animorphs would follow them through a different series of time hops (since presumably most controllers are not theater nerds) until they get control of the matrix and go to un-meet-cute a different couple. And then it would happen again with a third host, and a fourth, and on and on until the timeline stabilizes in some other way and they get out of it without successfully unmaking their impetus-to-time-travel, either accidentally or intentionally. Or they never do, and they're just locked in Groundhog Decades forever, only with a different yeerk/controller each time.

# ? Oct 17, 2021 22:05

Mazerunner: Apr 22, 2010; Good Hunter, what... what is this post?

quote:

�Oh, it existed,� the Drode said. �It exists. It was found by a lowly human-Controller, who uses the name John Berryman. He�s an actor. Not a very successful one. A lowly Controller whose Yeerk was, until he lost the battle for Leera, none other than Visser Four.

They don�t meet, they don�t get together, they don�t have a kid named John, and Visser Four ends up in some other host, in some other place. He never finds the Time Matrix, And none of it happens. Time
isn�t altered.�

Berryman had never existed. The Time Matrix was where he�d found it. Buried.

I think the idea is that John Berryman found the matrix first, then was infested- or that it was something specific to him that led V4 to go looking around the construction site/find the matrix. If V4 had had a different host he wouldn't have found it.

The first passage maybe points to it being V4 who found it, specifically, though it is

a) From the Drode, who twists the truth

b) still singles out it being found by Berryman, who incidentally was infested by V4

c) does the common thing the series/characters do of conflating the yeerk with the host. Like, Controller refers to the yeerk- so Berryman should've been referred to as a lowly Controlled

As for recursive loops, I think we probably just gotta handwave it with "Ellimist/Crayak did it", same as how they locked the Animorphs personalities.

Using the Matrix to stop V4 just before he finds the Matrix probably would've been a better option, I'll agree, (or even going all the way to end the Yeerk war/change human history themselves, as floated), although... I think since Ellimist/Crayak don't want the Matrix to be used, they arranged thing such that the Animorphs take the route that boils down to "removes the Matrix from play, without making big changes in the present conflict/the Animorphs having access to the Matrix".

# ? Oct 18, 2021 00:43

Mazerunner: Apr 22, 2010; Good Hunter, what... what is this post?

also there's this bit from Ax

quote:

I wondered how it had come to Earth. And I wondered how my brother, Elfangor, had known it was on Earth. Because surely he had known. Visser Four was right: Elfangor had chosen the spot deliberately. It was no coincidence that he had landed, had died, within a few feet of this machine.

...except Ax never had a conversation with V4 (or the Drode) to reveal this, that the Matrix was found at the construction site.

Probably there was a conversation between the two that was removed, but this bit was missed.

So anyway, the Animorphs don't actually know where the time matrix was found, probably. Although they could've asked John Berryman?

# ? Oct 18, 2021 00:59

Fuschia tude: Dec 26, 2004; THUNDERDOME LOSER 2019

Mazerunner posted:

As for recursive loops, I think we probably just gotta handwave it with "Ellimist/Crayak did it", same as how they locked the Animorphs personalities.

If the Ellimayak can just wave their hand(s) and make it happen why do they need the animorps to do a thing at all :colbert:

# ? Oct 18, 2021 01:24

WrightOfWay: Jul 24, 2010

Fuschia tude posted:

If the Ellimayak can just wave their hand(s) and make it happen why do they need the animorps to do a thing at all

Gotta decide who is the winner of this particular game somehow.

# ? Oct 18, 2021 01:28

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Ax has read the Andalite Chronicles. He would have also known how it had come to earth and Elfangor had known, but see, there was this pretty girl, and a game that afternoon, so....

I think the idea behind removing Berryman is that Visser Four discovered the time matrix when he was in Berryman (because before that, he was on Leera), and him having a different host would have changed his responsibilities and therefore his schedule, so whatever circumstances led to him finding the time matrix wouldn't have existed.

# ? Oct 18, 2021 01:34

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

It also suggests that Berryman excavated it while working at the construction site, which raises further questions.

"See you on Monday fellas, have a good weekend." (Walks away rolling the huge muddy white alien sphere ahead of him)

# ? Oct 18, 2021 01:39

HIJK: Nov 25, 2012; in the room where you sleep

Mazerunner posted:

also there's this bit from Ax

...except Ax never had a conversation with V4 (or the Drode) to reveal this, that the Matrix was found at the construction site.

Probably there was a conversation between the two that was removed, but this bit was missed.

Ah good catch

# ? Oct 18, 2021 01:53

pile of brown: Dec 31, 2004

Fuschia tude posted:

If the Ellimayak can just wave their hand(s) and make it happen why do they need the animorps to do a thing at all

Because too much handwaving was destroying the universe so they made up rules

# ? Oct 18, 2021 01:57

OctaviusBeaver: Apr 30, 2009; Say what now?

freebooter posted:

It also suggests that Berryman excavated it while working at the construction site, which raises further questions.

"See you on Monday fellas, have a good weekend." (Walks away rolling the huge muddy white alien sphere ahead of him)

The union rules specifically say they aren't responsible for Lovecraftian alien superweapons.

# ? Oct 18, 2021 03:29

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Animorphs 30-The Reunion

I'm still looking, but I have yet to find out anything about Elise Smith, the ghostwriter. When and if I do, I will let you know.

Chapter 1

quote:

It was happening again. Unbelievably, it was happening again.

A woman was drowning. Not the dreaded leader of an alien force. Just a woman. Alone in a roiling sea. Defenseless. Vulnerable.

My mother.

There was no way I could let it happen again.

I powered toward her. My arms strained with each stroke. My legs kicked wildly.

Hold on. Hold on!

So close. Close enough to see her straining to keep her head above the cold black water. Then I was on her, one arm around her shoulders, the other paddling madly to keep us afloat.

�Hold on!� I cried. �I�ve got you!�

She looked up at me, wet hair plastering her face. Then she spoke. �Thank you, Marco.�

�Mom ��

�I�m free, Marco. I�m free!�

And then a powerful current swept her out of my grasp and sucked her under the glittering surface of the midnight ocean.

�No! No, no, no!�

I dove. The salt stung my eyes. I pushed deeper and deeper into the darkness. My lungs ached but I would not allow it to happen again. I would not let her go! Not when she was free. Not �

�NO!�

�Marco? Are you okay?�

I shot up straight as a board. Where � ? My bed, my room. My father.

I put my hands to my head and looked at the picture of my mother that sat on my nightstand.

�You okay?� he repeated.

No. I wasn�t. �Yeah. Yeah. Bad dream, I guess.�

�About her?�

I swallowed hard. �Yeah.�

Dad sat on the edge of my bed and hugged me.

I returned the hug weakly. Patted him on the back.

�I�m okay, big guy,� I said. �What time is it?�

�About time to get up and get going,� he said. �I get the shower first. I have to be in early today.�

I watched my father leave the room. But instead of getting out of bed and heading downstairs for a bowl of Honeycomb, I sat amidst the tangled, slightly damp bedcovers, too exhausted to move.

My name, as you probably know by now, is Marco. And that was how my Friday started. Not the greatest way to greet the last day of a long week. But not exactly uncommon. Dreams of fear and loss and despair.

Before I lost my mother to the enemy, before I learned of the Yeerk invasion of Earth, my life was pretty tame. Mostly I worried about things like whether I�d dropped enough hints at dinner about which Sega disk I wanted for my birthday.

Not about things like the enslavement of the human race.

Those were the days. Or, as Dad says, �The salad days.�

I�m not sure what that means exactly - �salad days� - but he says it a lot. I�m not a big fan of salad myself, unless it�s heavily croutoned.

Anyway, here�s the rough sequence of events. I�ll keep it brief.

My mother - my beautiful, pretty-smelling, intelligent mother - took our boat out late one night and never came back. They found the boat. They didn�t find her.

She was presumed drowned. With no explanation of why she had done such a strange thing like take the boat out alone. At night. I mean, my mother was not exactly the suicidal type.

Next. My friends - Jake, Rachel, Cassie, and Tobias - and I had the distinct misfortune to stumble upon a dying Andalite warrior prince who told us about the Yeerks and their invasion of our planet.

He gave us the gift and curse of morphing, an Andalite technology that allows us to acquire the DNA of any animal and become - morph - that animal.

This is our most spectacular weapon. The others are cunning, courage, and secrecy. (And in my case irresistible cuteness.)

Then, we were joined by Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, younger brother of Prince Elfangor.

Another highlight. This happened long after I�d learned my mother had not fallen overboard and drowned but had been infested by the Yeerk known as Visser One, originator of the Earth invasion.

I�m talking about the time I�d seen her frail, Yeerk-infested body floating facedown as the Yeerks� underwater headquarters destructed.

Since that moment I�ve spent at least, oh, a bazillion hours wondering if my mother could have survived. Rachel heard a submarine speeding away from the chaotic scene. And I�d seen a Leeran- Controller swimming toward my mother�s floating body. So there was a chance she�d lived, a chance the Leeran had dragged her unconscious body to the sub and powered away.

At least, that�s what I chose to believe. But alongside that belief was the realization that the chances she�d made it to the sub were slim.

You can understand how sometimes my particular daily grind gets to be a pain in the � I mean, five more or less normal kids, one of whom is now more bird than boy, plus an Andalite cadet are supposed to save the Earth from an army of evil sluglike parasites?

What are the odds that�s going to happen?

The Yeerks are parasitic. They squirm their way into your ear canal and from there seep into every nook and cranny of your brain. They assume total control over your thoughts and your actions.

They leave you alert and alive - but absolutely powerless to act or speak on your own behalf. You are locked in a kind of brain cage while the Yeerk takes over every single aspect of your life. The Yeerk is in total control.

Total control.

The Yeerk moves your eyes and hands and feet. The Yeerk speaks with your voice. The Yeerk opens your memories and reads them like a book. Every memory. Every secret.

The Yeerk in my mother�s head can look through her memories and see what she saw as she comforted me in my crib long, long ago. The Yeerk can see memories of me crying from a skinned knee. Memories of grouchy breakfasts with my dad and me. Memories of the hideously embarrassing �birds and bees� conversation.

The Yeerk saw all of that. The Yeerk who held the rank of Visser One. The original overlord of the invasion of Earth. The Yeerk who made a slave of my mother.

Because of this invasion our lives have become a series of fierce battles and narrow escapes. Of soul-crushing experiences and bone-shattering fights. You can see why my mornings have taken a dramatic turn for the worse.

Just the same, when Dad left for work, I took a shower and got ready with every intention of going to school.

Really, I did.

Poor Marco, having nightmares about his mother and still being forced to lay out the series premise.

Chapter 2

quote:

With a clean face and conditioned hair I headed toward the school bus stop. And walked past it.

Instead, I hopped on a city bus headed downtown.

The warren of streets that is the financial and business center of our town seemed as good a place as any to kill time. To get lost without running the risk of running into anyone who knew me.

There were movie theaters downtown. I figured I�d look around till I could catch a matinee of something loud and fun.

Twenty minutes later the bus dropped me and thirty office-bound men and women in the heart of blue-suit central.

It was still way early but already the sun was heating up the sidewalks, and the exhaust from the cars, trucks, and buses was spread like a grubby, smelly blanket over the concrete and steel jungle.

Nice choice, Marco. I should have gone to the beach. I stood on the sidewalk and stared. Seething mass of humanity. I�d heard that phrase once and now I knew what it meant. It meant �office workers at rush hour.�

What was the big hurry? Did adults really like going to work? Or was Friday free donut day at the office?

THWACK!

I was down! My knees hit the pavement and my face landed in a planter full of cigarette butts and abandoned coffee cups.

The enemy! I prepared myself for the next blow.

Nothing. I looked up.

No one had noticed I�d been knocked over.

I got to my feet, dazed. I rubbed the ash, dirt, and stale coffee off my face with the bottom of my shirt.

I was disgusted. And I was mad.

A woman had run me over with her tank of a briefcase. Then she�d continued on down the street like nothing had happened. And no one had stopped to help me.

�And they say my generation has no manners,� I muttered.

I gave myself a quick once-over - nothing seriously damaged but my dignity - and set out after the woman who�d so callously whacked me. This woman had an appointment with the dirty pavement, courtesy of a well-placed Saucony Cross Trainer.

I caught up to her about halfway down the block and followed a few feet behind. Waiting for my chance. Her briefcase was big enough to hold a Doberman and built to maim, with steel corners and a big combination lock on the side.

And what was up with that hair? The woman wore a stiff, curly blonde wig. Think steel-wool pad. Used. Slightly shredded. And yellow.

I saw the perfect spot to exact my revenge.

I skirted the crowd and hid behind a big, concrete column about a yard ahead, just at the corner of the courthouse. When Wig Lady passed - bingo, bango! BAM!

She was going down.

I peeked from around the pillar to see how close she was to meeting my foot. And then I bit my cheek to stop from screaming.

The woman with the awful blonde hair and the briefcase �

Was my mother!

Visser One!

I ducked back behind the column and pulled my South Park cap down over my eyes. She passed by. She hadn�t seen me.

My mother was alive!

I took a deep breath and tried to comprehend this fact. She�d escaped the destruction of the Yeerk underwater complex. Relief and happiness and fear all at once. She was alive! But she was so dangerous. So terribly dangerous.

Think, Marco. She�s alive, but � the disguise. A blue power suit. A curly blonde wig. What had looked like blue contact lenses behind big, black-rimmed glasses. The massive briefcase.

Why a disguise? To hide. From whom?

Should I follow her? Find the others? I could still make it to school before the late bell. Maybe.

But then I�d lose my mother for sure. And Visser One.

I watched my mother�s body walk down the street. When she reached the next corner, I followed. On the next block I saw her climb the steps to the front doors of the Sutherland Tower, the downtown area�s tallest building. She squeezed herself and her briefcase into a compartment of the revolving door. I bolted up the steps, waited one extra revolution of the brass-plated door, then followed her in.

The lobby was about three stories tall. Behind a row of security guards, water flowed down one pink marble wall into a lit pool. Visser One flashed some kind of pass and continued by the guard�s station.

I had no pass. Plus I was a kid. The guards had already seen me come in, and now they were looking at me like I was one hundred percent no-good. If I made the wrong move they were sure to hassle me. Then the Visser would look over her shoulder to see what the commotion was about and I�d be in big, big trouble.

Visser One would recognize me as her host body�s son.

So I stood. Just stopped right there by the revolving door and waited for the next person to come through.

Whoever it was, their DNA was mine.

Now, remember, it's Animorph policy not to acquire unwitting sentient beings. But this is Marco, after all.

Also, Visser One is back!

# ? Oct 18, 2021 03:33

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

As a kid it felt weird that Marco would so quickly and casually break that longstanding taboo, but as an adult it makes total sense that he'd be flipping out after a random encounter with his mum and completely committed to not letting her get away.

# ? Oct 18, 2021 04:43

nine-gear crow: Aug 10, 2013

Epicurius posted:

Animorphs 30-The Reunion

I'm still looking, but I have yet to find out anything about Elise Smith, the ghostwriter. When and if I do, I will let you know.

You should check out Poparena's book-by-book breakdown on YouTube, he tries to credit and bio the ghostwriters at the start of each video, but some of them are just completely non-existent in terms of available info, and Smith might be one of them.

# ? Oct 18, 2021 07:19

Fuschia tude: Dec 26, 2004; THUNDERDOME LOSER 2019

nine-gear crow posted:

You should check out Poparena's book-by-book breakdown on YouTube, he tries to credit and bio the ghostwriters at the start of each video, but some of them are just completely non-existent in terms of available info, and Smith might be one of them.

IIRC at least a couple of them were just like Applegrant's neighbors and babysitter at the time.

# ? Oct 18, 2021 07:44

Pwnstar: Dec 9, 2007; Who wants some waffles?

If you leave the Yeerks out if it, Marco basically has a cinematic serial killer origin story.

# ? Oct 18, 2021 11:20

pile of brown: Dec 31, 2004

Pwnstar posted:

If you leave the Yeerks out if it, Marco basically has a cinematic serial killer origin story.

So would most child soldiers, probably, if you ignored their circumstances.

# ? Oct 18, 2021 12:27

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

nine-gear crow posted:

You should check out Poparena's book-by-book breakdown on YouTube, he tries to credit and bio the ghostwriters at the start of each video, but some of them are just completely non-existent in terms of available info, and Smith might be one of them.

He doesn't know who she is either, although, to correct myself earlier, the ghostwriter is Elise Donner, not Elise Smith (who was another ghostwriter). Applegate did say that Donner came and fixed the book after the original ghostwriter gave her an incomprehensible manuscript.

Epicurius fucked around with this message at 12:37 on Oct 18, 2021

# ? Oct 18, 2021 12:31

disaster pastor: May 1, 2007

freebooter posted:

As a kid it felt weird that Marco would so quickly and casually break that longstanding taboo, but as an adult it makes total sense that he'd be flipping out after a random encounter with his mum and completely committed to not letting her get away.

Yeah, I don't remember most of the details of this book (I remember the broad strokes and I remember liking it), but I think we're absolutely supposed to see that as Marco doing whatever's necessary to stay on his mother's track, on the assumption that he can justify it after the fact as investigating Visser One, whom they've heard zero about for the past half of the series.

# ? Oct 18, 2021 12:53

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 3

quote:

The revolving door whooshed. Footsteps behind me. I turned around.

�Hi, Dad!� I said. �What took you so long?�

The man was stocky, well-dressed, and surprised. But he had his ID in one hand and I had his other hand and before he knew it, the mild acquisition trance was in place.

�Hello, Mr. Grant,� said a slick-haired security guard.

�It�s �Fathers Take Their Sons to Work Day!�� I said brightly as I led the zoned-out Mr. Grant past security.

�Well, then, son, you pay attention! That�s one important daddy you got!�

�Yessir!� I replied.

The boyish enthusiasm worked like a charm. I�ve found that if you act like a moron, adults tend to leave you alone. It�s when they think you might be as smart as they are that they give you a hard time.

I led Mr. Grant to the elevator. Let me make it clear that I had no intention of morphing this man.

I just needed him to get me past security and to the elevators.

Where Visser One was standing with her enormous metal case.

Mr. Grant was waking up. I let go of his hand.

�My,� he muttered, putting his hand on his stomach. �That jelly donut is not sitting well.�

I looked up at Mr. Grant with an Adam Sandier idiot grin.

Worked like a charm. Mr. Grant looked away and waited impatiently for the elevator with the rest of the men and woman in suits.

I pulled my hat lower over my face.

DING! The elevator door opened. An old guy with a rolling cart full of interoffice envelopes and UPS packages made an attempt to get out of the car.

�Let �em off, people!� he muttered as the crowd surged around him and into the elevator.

Visser One passed on the mail guy�s right. I went to his left. The mob prevented her from getting a glimpse of me.

The doors closed. We were packed in the elevator like crayons in a crayon box. The important thing was Visser One was the crayon close to the button panel, and I was the crayon in the opposite back corner.

But that�s not good, I thought suddenly. I have to get out when my mom � the Visser gets out! If I miss the floor, I lose the Visser. And my mother. Again.

At the same time, I couldn�t allow Visser One to see me. There was only one thing I could do. A morph. In the slow-moving elevator. Surrounded by fifteen people and evil incarnate.

A woman whose back was about three inches from the bill of my baseball cap dropped a section of her Wall Street Journal and I pretended not to notice. I slid down against the elevator wall, back straight, and with my fingertips, picked it up off the grubby red carpet. Behind the suited backs of fifteen adults, I opened the paper as wide as I could and held it in front of my face and over my head, like a tent. And then I began one of my least favorite morphs - the common housefly.

Insane! It was insane. But what was my other choice? Lose Visser One? No. Not happening.

I started shrinking almost immediately. In a moment, the newspaper blanketed me. My vision went dark and then flashed on again, pixilated.

Two fly legs spurted from my chest. My hands shriveled into pincers. My skin hardened.

And nobody noticed. It was bizarre! No one looked at me. Everyone continued to stare blankly ahead at the door or up at the ventilation grates on the roof of the elevator car.

I was in an elevator full of people, turning into a fly, and no one so much as glanced back at me. I fought down the lunatic urge to say, �Hey, I�m turning into a fly, here. Hello? Are you people or statues?�

The elevator slowed and stopped at a floor. The woman who had dropped the paper earlier bent to pick it up.

Problem. I wasn�t done morphing!

I was about the size of a rat, with pink skin and a human nose. The other nine-tenths of me was housefly. Wings, six hairy legs, compound eyes, a big sticky tongue where my mouth had been. And I was sitting in the middle of a mound of clothes.

A more disgusting sight I cannot imagine.

The woman picked up the paper, stared back at a piece of nothing two feet above the head of the person in front of her, then froze.

�Argh!� she said.

Through my 360-degree multifaceted fly vision I watched her look slowly back down to the dirty red carpet. But it was too late.

Totally fly now, I kicked on my wings, zoomed crazily into the air, sped over the woman�s head and landed on a corner of the Visser�s briefcase. The elevator door opened. The woman who was positive she had just seen a rat-sized fly-boy on the elevator floor rushed out with her hand to her mouth.A few other business people filed out after her and the Visser pressed the CLOSE button.

The twenty-first floor. Mr. Grant got off.

The Visser pushed CLOSE once more.

And I was alone in the elevator with my mother.

Twenty-second floor. The elevator slid to a stop. The doors opened and Visser One stepped out into the hallway. I rode on her briefcase to where she stopped just outside the third door on the right.

It was all I needed to know. Time to get out of there and tell the others.

So his method of getting in the building is pretty certainly unethical, but it's also effective. Also, how is it that nobody notices Marco morphing in a crowded elevator? Also, the "If adults think you're a moron, they leave you alone" advice is not bad advice.

Chapter 4

quote:

I let go with my sticky, pincher fly feet. I buzzed my gossamer wings and lifted up off the Visser�s metal case.

Up, circle back and away toward �

SCHLOOOOP!

Wind! A tornado of wind!

My wings beat with a speed only an insect could achieve. But I was too close! A vent, ribbed steel, as high as a ten-story building to me, and twice as wide.

Air cleaner! Industrial-strength. Suction. Suction like a vacuum cleaner!

WHAM!

I hit a metal crossbar.

Then I was through. Hurtling down an aluminum shaft. And now, concentrated in the enclosed space, the air current was unbelievable.

<Aaaagh!>

I was spinning, out of control, wings almost useless. And I wasn�t alone. Pieces of lint and human hair. Dust and the circles of paper a three-hole puncher leaves behind. An assortment of dazed mosquitoes, gnats, and other flies, all zooming around me like the tornado scene from The Wizard of Oz. All of it shattered into the thousand tiny TV sets of my fly eyes. All of it in weird, distorted
colors.

I tumbled faster and faster toward a giant filter. Bundles of flying-bug parts and lint were scattered at its base. There was only one thing to do.

Demorph!

I started growing almost immediately and almost immediately I stopped tumbling. Anything over the weight of a flicked booger pretty much canceled out the power of the industrial-strength air cleaner.

My wings shriveled and sucked into the now-supple skin under my shoulder blades. My eyes rotated from the sides of my head back to the front of my face. Two fly legs shot back into my chest.

FLOOP! FLOOP!

My other fly legs rotated to where my human legs and arms should be and everything started to grow. Suddenly, I realized that the aluminum shaft that had seemed as big as the school gym when I was a fly just might not be big enough for my human self.

Getting trapped like a big chunk of Snicker�s Blizzard in a straw was something I was not prepared for.

I pushed my now-human arms in front of me and thrust my legs behind me. I lay fully extended on my stomach in the air shaft.

And then I stopped demorphing. I was me. For once, I was grateful to be a little on the short side.

Still, I was trapped inside a very dusty air vent.

I slithered down the square metal tube, away from the filter, toward a light beaming across the shaft. I pushed myself forward with my toes and pulled myself along with my fingers, trying hard not to panic.

The light was coming from a vent high on the wall of an office. I gave the grate a whack and it opened downward like a miniature door. I was a good eight or nine feet in the air. I lowered myself headfirst, slowly, slowly �

Keys jingled outside the door.

I dropped fast, forcing myself into a head-over-heels tumble as I fell.

BAM!

Right into a wastebasket.

�Three points,� I whispered to myself.

The door to the office opened just as I scurried into the second room, a big, windowless space full of gray cubicles.

�Hello?� Lights popped on. �Mr. Grant?�

Footsteps. Slow, but coming my way.

I had no choice! I had to morph Mr. Grant.

I dashed into an empty cubicle at the back of the room and felt the changes begin.

Morphing a fly may be gross, but morphing a human being is far more frightening. Not to mention morally suspect. In this case, morphing an adult male was like getting an unwanted glimpse into my own future and realizing that my future was not pretty.

The first thing to change was my stomach. It grew out and around until the seams of my morphing suit began to tear.

My thick, gorgeous hair was sucked into my broadening skull. I slapped a hand to my head. A receding hairline! A balding spot right on top!

I watched as the skin on my hands wrinkled slightly. Pale blotches sprinkled themselves across the knuckles. I touched my face with the ugly fingers. Wow! Rough � At this rate I�d have a five o�clock shadow by noon!

My butt! I turned my double-chinned neck as far as it would turn and saw over my thick shoulder a wide protuberance - and my bike shorts in shreds.

Panic set in. I was pretty sure I hadn�t grown taller but man, had I gotten wider!

�Mr. Grant?�
�Yes?� I yelped, sticking my balding, slightly grizzled head over the cubicle partition.

The woman stood in the doorway of the second room.

�Uh, are you okay, Mr. Grant?� She took another step inside.

�No!� I shouted. �I mean, don�t come in. I�m very busy. I�m just fine.�

�You were working in the dark Mr. Grant. Are you sure ��

�Yes, I�m just fine, thanks. I�ll be done here in a few minutes,� I babbled.

Another step closer. �Why are you at Carlos�s desk?�

Good one. I thought fast. �Uh, well, there�s something wrong with my computer, so, uh, I thought I�d borrow this one. Uh, could you get me a cup of coffee from the Starbucks on the corner? Please?�

The woman�s eyebrows quirked but she turned and headed for the door. �Sure, Mr. Grant. I�ll be right back.�

�Thanks, thanks a lot!� I said, ducking back behind the cubicle partition.

Yow! Too close. I waited until I hoped the woman had gotten on the elevator and sprinted from the cubicle. Time to find a place safe to de-morph and get the heck out of this building.

The men�s room. I flung open the door to the hallway. And ran smack into � �Aaahh!� I yelled. �Mr. Grant!�

�What the �� was all he got out before he slumped to the floor.

I shot a glance up and down the hallway. No one.

�Oh man, oh man, Jake is gonna kill me, and if he doesn�t, Cassie will.� I hefted Mr. Grant to a half-sitting position and dragged him across the hall and into a broom closet. It was like moving one of those stones they used to build the pyramids. The man liked his pastry.

I shut the door behind us and tried to catch my breath. Hard to do when you�re panicking on several fronts simultaneously.

I propped him up against a mop bucket on wheels and started to undress him.

Quickly, I changed into Mr. Grant�s blue suit. Well, all except the tie. I have no idea how to tie one.

When I was dressed I opened the broom closet door, looked both ways, then scooted as fast as Mr. Grant could to the elevator.

A moment later the elevator doors slid open and I burst inside.

I was outta there.

In regards to Marco's morphing into Mr. Grant and being shocked and horrified that his handsome self has transformed into somebody fat and balding, and getting an unwanted glimpse into his future, I want to remind you all that Marco is based on Applegate's husband and cowriter, Michael Grant.

# ? Oct 19, 2021 03:35

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

quote:

The first thing to change was my stomach. It grew out and around until the seams of my morphing suit began to tear.

My butt! I turned my double-chinned neck as far as it would turn and saw over my thick shoulder a wide protuberance - and my bike shorts in shreds.

The logic around morphing clothing has never been strong, but, uh...

# ? Oct 19, 2021 05:02

Bobulus: Jan 28, 2007

freebooter posted:

The logic around morphing clothing has never been strong, but, uh...

I mean, when you think about it, the narrative had two options here:

1) Marco keeps the morphing suit, and it tears because he morphs someone larger.
2) Marco morphs away the morphing suit, and now he's just a naked human.

I'm fine with the narrative handwaving things in this case.

# ? Oct 19, 2021 17:29

OctaviusBeaver: Apr 30, 2009; Say what now?

3) Mr. Grant is such an accomplished Business Man that his suit and tie have become part of his DNA

# ? Oct 19, 2021 18:23

e X: Feb 23, 2013; cool but crude

Marco just casually broke like four taboos of the Animorphs in three chapters. Not a bad start.

# ? Oct 19, 2021 19:43

HIJK: Nov 25, 2012; in the room where you sleep

Little things like that always stuck out to me, I remember disliking this book because of stuff like that.

# ? Oct 19, 2021 20:53

Tree Bucket: Apr 1, 2016; R.I.P.idura leucophrys

OctaviusBeaver posted:

3) Mr. Grant is such an accomplished Business Man that his suit and tie have become part of his DNA

I've encountered lines like "excellence is in our DNA" in corporate blurbs more than once. I guess this is what they mean?

# ? Oct 19, 2021 23:51

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 5

quote:

It was almost lunch period by the time I�d gone home, changed, and got back to school.

Now, getting into school late is not the easiest thing in the world to do, but it can be done.

Luckily, our school has no guards or metal detectors like they have in the high schools. All I had to worry about was the stray teacher or kiss-up hall monitor.

I leaned around the front door. Nobody. Just the janitor, but his back was to me and he was wearing headphones. And doing this weird kind of shuffling dance as he pushed a mop across the vomit-green linoleum tile that is our school�s main hallway.

I slid around the doorjamb and booked the other way down the main hall. I could see the tops of teachers� heads through the windows in the classroom doors, but knew they couldn�t see me. Another benefit of being vertically challenged.

I made it to my locker undetected. A second later, the bell for lunch period rang and the halls were mobbed by kids charging out of class. One of them was Jake. I dropped my math book. He picked it up.

�Jake, you really do care.�

�Where have you been?� he demanded.

�Guess who I saw?� I whispered, pulling a notebook at random from my locker.

Jake sighed. �Marco, just tell me ��

�Marco!�

A hand clapped onto my shoulder.

�So nice of you to join us today.�

�My pleasure, Mr. Chapman,� I said. �I would never want to miss a day of learning.�

Jake gave me a �This-is-your-problem� look and sauntered away.

�Ah, amusing as always, Marco. And where might you have been? I called your home. No answer. No answer at all.�

�I was � with my father.�

�Oh, really?�

�Yes, Mr. Chapman. It was �Take Your Son to Work Day� at his office.�

�Then I suppose you won�t mind me calling him at work?�

�Not at all,� I bluffed. �Would you like the number?�

Chapman looked me up and down. If he called my dad, I was busted, big time.

�He�ll be in meetings all afternoon, that�s why I came back to school,� I added. �But you could leave a message on his voice mail.�

�Just get where you�re supposed to be, Marco.�

�Yes, sir.�

I should have said �Yes, you Yeerk-carrying freak.� But that would have been fatal. To me.

Telling Jake about Visser One would have to wait. In the cafeteria I passed a note to Rachel. Barn. After school. Good news and bad. I sat at the end of a lunch table and ate my pizza alone.

Ignored the minor food fight going on at the table to my right. Vaguely noticed the pimply kid slurping some gross yellow soup from a plaid thermos at the other end of my table. Thought for two seconds about the history test I was going to fail that afternoon.
Wondered if Chapman was going to bring up my cutting school and failing my history test at the next parent-teacher conference.

Considered whether I�d rather spend my life working at McDonald�s or Burger King after I got expelled.

But my mind wouldn�t stay on any one topic. Nothing really mattered, did it? Nothing except one extraordinarily complicated, amazingly wonderful fact.

My mother was alive.

Alive.

I saw Rachel giving me the fish eye from across the room. I mouthed that one word: alive.

Evidently Rachel doesn�t read lips. She misunderstood what I�d said and responded by mouthing two words I won�t repeat.

But I didn�t care. No one could blow this one moment of relief for me.

She was alive. And someday, somehow, by some miracle I could only fantasize about, she�d be my mom again.

It's good to see Chapman actually doing vice-principal stuff for once, instead of like, driving a forklift.

Chapter 6

quote:

�Marco,� Cassie said, �tell us why we�re here.�

�We� being four kids, a bird, and a furry blue alien. Freaks is our name, saving the world is our game.�

This morning I skipped school and took the bus downtown.� I shot a look at Jake. �And before anyone jumps down my throat, I know it�s dumb to call attention to myself, so sue me. Anyway, I was trying to avoid being trampled by the wing tips when I saw my � Visser One. She was in disguise. A terrible wig, blue contacts, and big square glasses. But it was her.�

�Oh, man,� Jake said. �Are you sure it was your mother?�

�Oh, yeah. I got a great look at her right before I was going to trip her.�

�You were going to trip your mother?� said Cassie.

�Yes, because she�d knocked me down with this big metal briefcase. It doesn�t matter. What matters is that it was Visser One. My mother. In disguise.�

�You�re sure she didn�t recognize you and knock you down on purpose?� Rachel demanded.

�Yeah,� I said. �Anyway, she thinks I�m a Controller. Remember when we went after the Yeerks� underwater complex? Don�t forget: We spoke. She thinks I�m one of them. So why would she smack me, unprovoked? And if she knew the truth about me, she�d have done more than just knock me down.�

�And what was the brilliant motive behind skipping school?�

�I�m an adventurer, Rachel,� I said. �Much like Daniel Boone. Magellan. Marco Polo. I will not rest until I have explored every alley, every nook, every cranny of this big, crazy world of ours.�

�Not funny, Mr. Polo,� she snapped. �You could have gotten us in big trouble � .�

<What is a cranny, exactly?> Tobias wondered from his perch above us.

<So. Visser One is alive,> Ax said coldly. <This is not good news.>

�The corollary, Ax. My mother�s alive, too,� I pointed out. �I followed her into the Sutherland Tower. She�s got an office on the twenty-second floor.�

�What do you think she�s doing in there?� Cassie said.

I shook my head. �I didn�t stick around to find out.�

�The last time we saw Visser One,� Jake mused, �Visser Three saw us - the enemy - spare her life.�

<If Visser Three understood that we spared Visser One, he would conclude that she is a traitor.> Ax said.

�Which explains the disguise,� I agreed. �But she�d still need access to a Yeerk pool. To Kandrona rays. Which Visser Three wouldn�t allow if he thought she was a traitor. Obviously. So ��

�So somehow she�s alive, somehow she�s getting Kandrona rays,� Rachel said.

�The question is why?� Cassie said.

�Why what?�

�Why is she here, on Earth? Look, we know going way back that Vissers One and Three are enemies. Visser One let us escape from Visser Three early on. Visser Three must have suspected she was behind that. Then he�s got the fact that we let her live when we could have finished her off. So he must want her bad. So why is she walking around downtown? I mean, wig or no wig, Earth isn�t a safe place for her.�

Rachel grinned. �Come on, it�s obvious. She�s here to take down Visser Three. Why else? It�s her only way out. Take down her main enemy. Then get herself straight with whoever is above them both.�I nodded. It made sense. Figure Rachel to understand the mind of Visser One.

�Whatever her exact motives, it�s bad news for us,� Cassie said.

�Not necessarily,� Jake said. �Warring Vissers are a lot easier to handle than Vissers united against us.�

<Divide and conquer,> Ax agreed. <We may be able to use the feud between the Vissers to our advantage.>

Jake nodded. �First step, find out what�s in that office.�

�She�s on twenty-two, third door to the right off the elevator,� I said.

<We might be able to gain access from the roof,> Ax suggested.

�Tobias?�

<Yeah, I know the Sutherland Tower,> he said. <There�s a door on the roof that probably opens on a staircase leading to the top-floor hall. There�s a padlock but the door�s pretty rickety. We should have no problem getting in.>

�Fly morph?� Cassie said. �Up to the roof as a bird, demorph, morph a fly ��

�Not recommended. I had a bad experience with the ventilation system today. But a fast, heavier bug would work, one that can go under doors and through walls.�

�You mean ��

�That�s right.� I grinned. �Everyone�s favorite houseguest. The wily cockroach.�

�We do this right away,� Jake directed. �Tonight. But I�m out. Family function.�

�Me, too,� Rachel said, rolling her eyes. �I promised my mother I�d baby-sit for Jordan and Sara. And I have blown my mom off way too much lately.�

�I hate to do this,� Cassie said, �but I�m out, too. I am one test away from a �D� in math. If I get a �D� my parents will be in my life twenty-four hours a day.�

<Ax and I are available,> Tobias said. <No families, no homes, nothing to do but watch the owls eat my mice. Ax-man and I will handle this.>

�And me, obviously,� I said.

Jake looked at me.

�What about your dad?� Cassie asked quickly. She was trying to give me an out.

�What about him? He�s been working twelve-hour days on a big project. He comes home, he plops on the couch, he watches ESPN. He�ll never know I�m gone.�

Jake continued to look at me. Rachel looked away.

<There�s the problem of Visser One inhabiting your mother�s body,> Ax stated bluntly. <And the temptations that seeing her again might arouse.>

Leave it to Ax to be blunt.

�Ax is right, Marco,� Cassie said. �Coming face-to-face with Visser One again will be hard for you. And dangerous. For all of us.�

�Did I give myself away on the Royan Island mission?� I demanded. �Or today?�

�First time, pretty close,� Rachel muttered.

�No, not pretty close,� I snapped. �I didn�t. And that�s the fact.�

There was an awkward silence.

�I don�t believe this crap,� I said. �We�ve been through this before. The mission comes first. Personal hang-ups, second. I�m in. I�m going. Period.�

Jake sighed. �Okay, Marco, Ax, and Tobias. Tonight.� He looked at me. �Don�t do anything foolish. It�s reconnaissance only.�
I nodded.

�And if it comes to a judgment call, Tobias makes the call.�

That caught me off guard. But there was no point arguing. In Jake�s place I�d have done the same thing.

�No problem.�

Jake came and took my arm and drew me with him outside into the afternoon sunlight. I cringed. I knew what was coming.

�I noticed a certain lack of details about what happened today,� Jake said. �Which tells me you did things that I probably don�t want to hear about.�

�Yeah. You probably don�t.� I tried out a devil-may-care grin. Not a big success.

Jake folded his arms over his chest and looked down at the ground in silence. Then up at me. Jake has changed a lot over the months we�ve been fighting this little war. The look he gave me did not come from my boy Jake, my bud, my pal. It came from a battle commander.

Freaky seeing how old Jake has gotten.

�Marco, you�re my best friend. But if you ever go off like that again you and I will have serious problems.�

In the old days I�d have said �Bite me,� or something equally brilliant.

Now I said, �Okay, understood.�

It was all I could do to stop myself from saying, �Yes, sir.�

Poor Jake. Also, Marco, Ax, and Tobias adventure! I'm also pretty sure that Marco is not going to be able to be as unbiased as he thinks.

# ? Oct 20, 2021 03:09

Tree Bucket: Apr 1, 2016; R.I.P.idura leucophrys

Epicurius posted:

Also, Marco, Ax, and Tobias adventure!

Very much looking forward to this.
Although I still lol at Chapman being relegated to Chief Forklift Driver.

# ? Oct 20, 2021 03:43

Adbot: ADBOT LOVES YOU

# ? May 23, 2024 23:02

feetnotes: Jan 29, 2008

Cassie, who has morphed into dozens of different creatures, been infested by a yeerk and morphed into a yeerk that infested others, encountered and sometimes killed members of a dozen alien races, genocided 2 ancient alien races, performed untrained brain surgery, got stuck as a caterpillar and was reborn, has traveled to Leera and Iskoort, met unfathomably powerful cosmic beings and has experienced at least 4 distinct types of time travel, can still care about passing a math test!

# ? Oct 20, 2021 04:57

The Something Awful Forums > Archives > Comedy Goldmine > Let's Read Animorphs! The Whole Series! Ch-ch-ch-chaaanges

«‹›236 »