On Tuesday May 24 the Other Worlds Austin Staff meeting was interrupted by an unknown force that possessed OWA Director of Operations, Courtney Hazlett. After all the shaking and slobbering, Courtney jumped on top of the conference room table and paced around staring down each team member. She moved like she was a marionette with its strings tangled and spoke in mumblecore. Luckily, Jordan Brown had her Duplass Mumble What? Translator App on her phone.
Courtney came to and the team huddled around Jordan's phone as the app filtered out all of the bullshit. They gasped in unison as the results flashed on the screen. HUMANITY ENDS ON JUNE 23rd 2016.
But who sent the message and how are they planning to end humanity?
Worry not our fellow humans, the Other Worlds Austin team is on the case and we have already captured the usual suspects. Cthulhu, an out of control AI, and many others are currently being interrogated. We will post the interrogation logs to our blog in the hope that you can help us figure out who plans on ending humanity on the same night as the Other Worlds Austin 9 pm screening of PRISONER X at Flix Brewhouse (see the trailer and buy tickets here).
Case: 06232016 Humanity's End
Suspect Number 7: Stuartfly
OWA Interrogator: Tour Director Michael Thielvoldt
Interrogation Setting: OWA Minimum Security Level Containment Center Courtyard
Containment center security escorts Michael Thielvoldt to the requested subject. The subject sits, quiet and small, on a bench in the center’s courtyard. The bench sits midway between the badminton courts and the pinochle tables.
Security: Here ya go, Subject 2238: Stuartfly.
MT: Stuartfly? I thought I was meeting with… [leafs through OWA case paperwork]… Brundlefly.
Security: Oh no, he’s dead... verrry dead. This is Stuartfly, Brundlefly’s nephew. [adds, in a familiar patronizing tone:] Aren’t ya, big guy!
Stuartfly shifts a little but does not respond.
MT: Stuartfly, huh?
Security: Yeah, he was willed the teleporter pods after his uncle’s death. Thought they were phone booths. One wrong number and little Stewie’s call got dropped; Stuartfly here picked up. Yup, none too bright, this lil fella.
MT: Okay. Stuartfly it is. [turning his attention to Stuartfly:] So, Mr. The Fly, can you please recount your whereabouts on the evening of May 24th.
Sf: [meekly stutters:]... st-st-st-uart…
MT: Excuse me?
Sf: [still very quiet:]... st-stuart…
MT: No, it was a Tuesday. Tuesday, the 24th. Where were you?
Sf: [in a muttered tone:] on Tuesdays i p-p-play Cards Against Humanity in the rumpus room [Stuartfly, in a strikingly sharp, feral charge, yells:] AGAINST HUMANITY!
MT: [somewhat taken aback by the sporadic upshift in tone:] Cards Against Humanity?
Sf: AGAINST HUMANITY!! [back in his soft spoken whimper:]… s-s-sorry for that. on Tuesdays I play c-c-ards [Stuartfly’s voice peters out]
MT: Can anyone corroborate that?
Sf: I-I-I used t-to play with some harmoniums, t-two of the tralfamadorians, and a-a vermicious knid, but…b-b-but now I play alone… [Stuartfly’s voice trails off again]…always a-alone…but, at least I always win now!
Stuartfly looks up at his visitor with wide compound eyes and a halfhearted smile, or at least the closest thing to a smile a giant fly head can muster.
MT: Yeahhhhhh…pretty impressive. Sounds like you’re quite the cardsharp. So nobody can vouch for your whereabouts? Nobody saw you in the rumpus room?
Sf: p-p-people DIE!! d-don’t really notice me. nobody looks at m-me. n-nobody knows I exi-s-s-st. I-I’m a bit of a wallflower. a fly BZZZ! on the wall, if you will
Stuartfly lets out a gagging snicker. His proboscis curls upward once more in what is becoming an increasingly disturbing action. He spews forth a vile milky substance mid-chuckle, which sends Stuartfly into violent convulsions and fits of garbled buzzing. A couple swift slaps to the back, and Stuartfly returns to his petite state of stillness on the bench.
MT: [after a brief pause] Let me ask you, Stuartfly.
Sf: [interrupting, under his breath] Just Stuart
MT: You don’t seem to me like the villain type. That is, you don’t appear to be a real threat to humanity.
Sf: DESTROY HUMANITY!!!
MT: Except that! What the hell is that?
Sf: S-s-s-orry…it’s the insect inside me. I-I have nothing against humans. DIE HUMANS DIE!!! I mean I-I don’t want to hurt anyone. PLUCK THEIR ARMS FROM THEIR SOCKETS! It-it’s not me, not really. it’s the fly. BZZZZ!
MT: I see. And, is the fly still taking over?
Sf: CONSUME AND DESTROY! N-no, no. the doctors say the mutation has stopped...they say it just gave up on me… [in a trailing whisper] just like everything else in my life.
MT: Hmm…I’ll tell you what. I believe you, flyboy.
MT: And I’m sure the center’s security footage can back you up. Seeing as you’re so keen on humanity
Sf: DRINK UP THEIR FLESH!!
MT: …well part of you is, anyway. I think we can help each other out. A fly on the wall sees much.
Sf: I s-see evvverything
Stuartfly’s bulbous eyes swell with the words. Michael notes the infinite reflections staring back at him.
MT: That’s the point, my friend.
MT: That’s right, Stuart.
MT: Friends help friends.
MT: And this friend needs a set of kaleidoscopic eyes on this place—someone who knows where to look and who can do so unseen. I need information on anyone with designs on humanity’s end. You keep an eye out for me, and I’ll keep an eye out for you.
With that Michael plucks from his pocket a Snickers bar. The wrapper crinkles as he peels back one end of the candy bar.
MT: Do we have a deal?
Stuartfly’s oral lobes moisten.
Michael hands Stuartfly the candy bar. Bial gushes forth covering the candy and Stuartfly’s hands alike. His proboscis extends downward enveloping the frothing mound. Michael can hear a churning slurping as he walks his way toward the center’s exit.
Interrogation Postscript: The rumpus room security footage confirmed Stuartfly’s alibi, more or less. From the hours of 7:00 PM to 10:00 PM, Stuartfly is clearly visible passing the time playing cards alone at a table in the corner of the room. Also true to word, none of the other inmates interact with Stuartfly or even appear to register his presence. The single noticeable deviation from Stuartfly’s account of the night: he only wins two out of the five games played. Suspect interrogation case is considered closed.