The Tower of Walgoth Episode 3
The following takes place following: The Tower of Walgoth Episode 2
A couple of hours later, the room is painted. Even the hole in the wall is filled. The Master hands Travers a Cuban cigar and a glass of single malt.
Travers: "Thanks."
The Master lights his cigar and Travers takes a couple of puffs. Yet he looks less than satisfied. He puts it down in an ashtray and slowly sips his whisky. The Master isn’t used to Travers being so quiet — he usually can’t get him to shut up or stop talking about himself. The silence was making him uneasy.
Suddenly Travers speaks.
Travers: "You know, it’s still early. Could you give me a ride down into town? There’s a toy store I want to check out. I’d walk but that would take me about four hours on these tiny legs. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes if we swoop."
Master Devlin: "Um... okay... sure." 🤨
****
The Master lands down on the main street in Waldron, attracting the attention of many. Travers hops off and heads for the nearby toy shop.
At the toy store:
Travers: "I'll take it. Ring her up..."
Shopkeeper: "Excellent choice, young fella... just a moment, please..."
The old man returns with a large box.
Shopkeeper: "Here we are... would you like that gift-wrapped?"
Travers: "No thanks... that'll be all. Goodbye, old timer..."
Master Devlin: "A model plane?" 🤨
Travers: "A remote-control model plane. She's a beauty, ain't she? Based on the F-16. Let's get this baby home, shall we?"
They fly back to the Manor. Travers immediately runs off with the large box, which is bigger than him, lifted comically above his head. He disappears into a workshop round the back and begins making modifications to the plane with various tools.
The next morning the Master is woken up early by the sound of buzzing and whizzing outside his window. He gets up and looks out to see Travers flying the little jet plane — not from the ground but from within the cockpit. The Master looks around in confusion as he hears music playing from some unknown location. It was The Liberation of Gracemeria from the Ace Combat 6 OST.
Travers does numerous aerial tricks and gives the perplexed Master a thumbs-up as he flies upside down overhead. Suddenly, Travers starts having motor problems and struggles to keep the plane under control. Devlin Manor had acres of empty lawn to land on, yet Travers managed to plough straight through an upstairs window. A fire started instantly.
The Master just stands there in shock as a soot-covered, burnt-clothed Travers appears out the back door and walks up to him. Travers turns and looks at the same burning bedroom.
Travers: "Umm… Master Devlin. We seem to have a fire. Can you take care of that?"
The Master seethes and goes to extinguish the fire. He then returns to a bruised and disappointed Travers.
Travers: "I was enjoying flying. Why has the Editor forsaken me?"
Travers sighs loudly and heads for a nearby shed. A short time later, he returns with tools and construction supplies and begins to work on fixing the bedroom window, wall, and floor.
Once Travers completes his repairs, the Master inspects them. They aren’t very good — very much the work of an amateur. Even the window is just cling film stretched over an uneven frame with nails poking out. Clearly, a professional will need to be brought in, but the Master gets the sense that Travers tried his best.
Travers: "Well, I'm quite tired. I think the crash took a lot out of me. I'm going to lie down in my room."
Master Devlin: "Hmm, well I suppose. Just a question before you go."
Travers: "Yes?"
Master Devlin: "How did you learn to build a functional aircraft, despite it being a miniature?"
Travers: "It was already functional. It mostly worked out of the box. I just put the batteries in. I simply incorporated the remote control into the modified cockpit."
The Master takes another look at the window and sees another bit fall off. Travers also looks at it, then turns and gives the Master an innocent smile.
Travers: "Unfortunately, I'm too small to fly real planes. I'm sorry, Master Devlin... I lied before... about being a pilot in the air force..."
The Master sighs.
Master Devlin: "I know, Travers."
Travers: "I don’t know why. I guess I wanted to be... I think. I dunno. I have all these memories, yet I’m only like two or three years old, apparently. I guess I have Waldo's memories too. Some, anyway."
Master Devlin: "I understand. It must be confusing… Off you go to bed and get some rest. We shall speak more in the morning."
Travers nods and leaves. He shuts the door, causing the window to fall out.
The Master sighs.
****
The next day, Travers shuffles into the kitchen in his pajamas. The Master is making lunch.
Master Devlin: “Good afternoon…”
Travers, looking half-asleep, struggles to climb up onto a chair at the breakfast table.
Master Devlin: “Goodness, Travers. You don’t look so great.”
Travers: “Couldn’t sleep last night. Spent hours wandering the halls…”
Master Devlin: “Oh really?”
Travers: “Yeah. Met the caretaker at the far end of the East Wing. Odd duck, that one. But he’s got this amazing model railway in the cellar…”
Master Devlin: “I very much doubt that. You must have been dreaming.”
Travers: “You’re doubting out of turn, Master Devlin! C’mon, I’ll show you!”
Travers bolts down the hall, and the Master, reluctantly abandoning his food, follows. They descend into the cellar. Travers stops dead in his tracks. There’s no sign of any model railway.
Travers: “Where is it?? I don’t understand…”
The Master stares at him and arches an eyebrow.
Travers: “Don’t look at me like that! It was here… it was huge! A perfect replica of the whole of Waldonia… except it had a railway line! The caretaker said he sculpted it all by hand — took him years!”
Travers sinks to the floor, defeated.
Master Devlin: “Caretaker, huh? This wasn’t the same ‘caretaker’ I booted into the lake, was it? Green fellow, by any chance?”
Travers: “NO! It wasn’t Wally… He looked human. A pink skin.”
Master Devlin: “Well, the only caretaker on the premises is Thomas. He’s got a house on the grounds, and no reason to be in the cellar. Shall we go visit him?”
Travers (shrugs): “Fine.”
They head outside. Thomas is mowing the lawn.
Thomas: “Good morning, Master Devlin.”
Master Devlin: “Good morning, Thomas. You don’t happen to have any other caretakers under your employ, do you?”
Thomas: “No, sir. Just me.”
Master Devlin: “I see. And Travers, this wasn’t the gentleman you met last night?”
Travers shakes his head.
Travers: “No. Completely different.”
Thomas: “Everything alright?”
Master Devlin: “Yes, Thomas, it’s fine. Travers insists he met a ‘caretaker’ in the cellar…”
Travers: “He was bald, for one thing.”
Master Devlin: “Bald, eh? Are you sure it wasn’t—”
Travers: “It wasn’t Wally! …Also, he had a large gaping hole in the back of his head.”
Master Devlin: “…I see. Wait — what? A hole in his head?”
Travers: “Yeah! At least that’s what it looked like. He said it was a birthmark. Very distinctive. About the size of a grapefruit. Pretty disgusting, to be honest, but I didn’t want to be rude.”
The Master and Thomas exchange a look. 🤨
Master Devlin: “…And he was alive?”
Travers: “Well, he was talking and walking around, so yeah… Anyway, I thought he’d had some kind of accident. The sort of thing humans go to the doctor for. But he said he was used to it. Though, to be fair, he did seem to be dropping bits of bloodied skull and brain matter as he walked around. He was more interested in the train set, though.”
Master Devlin: “Thomas, you’re here all the time. Have you ever seen anyone like Mr. Travers is describing?”
Thomas: “No, I haven’t. Then again, Mavis claims the manor is haunted.”
Master Devlin: “Yes, of course she does… Very well. We shall speak with Mavis.”
Travers: “Haunted? Pffft. We’re not really going to waste time chasing ghosts, are we? Mavis is just an old lady in a big house.”
Master Devlin: “Well, either you’ve gone completely mad, Travers, or you’ve sustained a head injury… or the place is haunted. What you’ve described does not sound like someone who ought to be alive. Now — let’s go speak to her.”
Back in the house, they hear a scream coming from the library and both rush there to investigate. The Master enters first, to find Mavis in distress.
Mavis: “Master Devlin! That… that horrid little thing tried to climb up my legs under my skirt!”
Master Devlin: “What did?”
Travers eventually reaches the library. Mavis points at a confused Travers.
Mavis: “That… thing!”
Travers: “Me?”
Mavis: “Yes! You!… Master Devlin… you know I have been loyal to you and this Manor my whole life… but your ghastly little pet imp has just indecently assaulted me. I shan’t stay in this house one minute longer if he is not sent away.”
Travers: “Madam, you’re mistaken… it wasn’t me.”
Mavis: “Poppycock! Of course it was. How many little green monsters do you think there are running around this house?”
Master Devlin: “Can you describe the villain in more detail?”
Mavis: “It looked exactly like him! Same hair, same clothes… even spoke with the same non-specific American accent that I can’t quite place… just like him!”
The Master approaches Mavis and speaks quietly.
Master Devlin: “Mavis, listen carefully. I believe there is an imposter. Now… did the creature who assaulted you have a moustache?”
Mavis: “He did at first… but the moustache fell off as he assaulted me. He picked it up and put it in his pocket. Then told me I was speaking out of turn, the ghastly little monster… then he… ran under my skirt. I’m sorry, Master Devlin… moustache or not, your associate there is the fiend! I’d stake my reputation on it!”
Travers rolls his eyes. 😒
Suddenly, Mavis jumps as Ed appears behind her. He is visible only to her.
Ed: “Good day, Madam. Inspector Ed Mulvin with the Waldron County Sheriff’s Department… Is this the man who assaulted you?”
Mavis: “Why, y-yes, Inspector… he uh… oh my…”
She turns back to the Master, still holding the wanted poster. Ed is gone.
Mavis: “Where did Inspector Mulvin go??”
Master Devlin: “Inspector Mulvin? What are you talking about?”
He notices and grabs the poster.
Master Devlin: “Where did you get this?”
Travers: “Can’t you see the Editor is just torturing me again? Setting me up… Well, fine… I don’t care anymore…”
Travers sinks to the floor in defeat.
Master Devlin: “I’m sorry for what happened to you, Mavis, but it would seem Mr. Travers wasn’t responsible. He might be a vile degenerate scumbag, but this wasn’t him — it appears to be an imposter.”
Mavis: “Imposter?? You mean to tell me there’s another horrid little green monster running around these halls?”
Master Devlin: "I’m afraid so. Now if you’ll excuse us, I must have a word with Travers…”
Mavis: “I never thought I’d see the day… vicious little monsters running amok in Devlin Manor! I’m just glad my predecessor, Mrs. Potts, isn’t around to see it. She would be spinning in her grave…”
She starts to walk away, outraged, grumbling largely to herself.
Master Devlin (muttering): “Goodness, the old bird is getting worse.”
There’s a knock at the front door. The Master answers. Widdle Frunkut, wearing a tracksuit zipped up to his chin, stands before him.
wF: “Arright there, mate, me name’s Goblinscouse 1977 an’ I’m here today to talk to you about the Wifform pahtee, if you’ve got a couple of minutes to cha’?”
Master Devlin: “Oh, go away, Widdle Frunkut. I already beheaded you — I won’t hesitate to do it again.”
wF: “Yer a know tha, bu’…”
Master Devlin: “Wait a minute!”
The Master grabs Widdle Frunkut, drags him into the house, and calls Mavis back in. He presents him by the scruff to Mavis.
Master Devlin: “Well, Mavis, is this the creature who climbed up your skirt?”
Scouse Waldo gives a creepy little smirk and waves.
Mavis: “I’m not sure… it was dressed differently and had hair, like the other one.”
The Master shakes him aggressively.
A bunch of weird items fall out of his pockets, including several GB fake moustaches. One falls in front of Travers’ feet. Travers hesitantly picks it up, stares at it intently, then slowly brings it to his upper lip. He fixes it on… then it falls limply to the floor.
Travers looks defeated. He goes and sits in the corner, pulls a book about angling out of his pocket, and begins reading it.
Waldo twists like a cat. He raises his foot and attempts to fend the Master off.
Master Devlin: “Stop it, Widdle Frunkut.”
The Master opens the door and boots Waldo again. He goes flying into the lake. The Master slams the door shut.
The Master looks at the defeated Travers.
Master Devlin: “This is very weird, Travers. I don’t get it. Is your moustache where all this heightened confidence, libido, and vigour comes from? You’re behaving like an unemployed David Wallace.”
The Master gets some double-sided tape and sticks the fake moustache on Travers. It just kind of droops there.
Travers: “Maybe. I thought I was just reformed. I thought I’d feel more youthful and energetic without it, but instead I feel tired and apathetic.”
Travers tries to make it twitch, but it just hangs like a dead fish.
Travers: “I’m thinking about heading to the Monastery. Perhaps a stay high up in the tower will help me find meaning and purpose.”
He takes off the lifeless moustache and puts it in his pocket.
He steps out onto the front lawn and stares across the lake to the distant tower reaching into the heavens.
Travers: “Yes, I think a new adventure is in order. A pilgrimage.”
He pulls a rucksack out of his pocket and puts it on. The Master notices Travers hasn’t even glanced in the direction of the nude bathing women still partying by the lake from the night before. Travers is clearly broken. He needs fixing. Perhaps this will help.
The Master sighs.
Master Devlin: “Good luck, Harris. Do you need help getting there?”
Travers: “No thanks. I’m going to walk. Goodbye, Master Devlin.”
Travers sets off down the hill.
Master Devlin: “…Goodbye, Travers…”
Waldo stands next to the Master and offers him a tissue. The Master looks down — it’s covered in phlegm and slime. He politely declines.
wF: “So Stan, now that Travers man’s gone, is Wiffuhuh co-star of the show again?”
Master Devlin: “…Sure.”
wF: “Yessss. Um… want to buy this watch? Give you good price, sir.”
Master Devlin (examining it): “It’s going anticlockwise… and backwards by seven seconds per tick. 🤨”
wF: “Yes, quite! It tells the time in another dimension!”
Master Devlin: “Hmm. How much?”
wF: “£7. Family rates.”
Master Devlin: “…Fine.”
The Master pats himself down for his wallet, then reaches into Widdle Frunkut’s pocket and retrieves his stolen wallet. He pulls out a £10 note.
Master Devlin: “Do you have change?”
wF: “Of course!”
Waldo fishes into his pocket and produces a handful of coins — mostly coppers, ancient and filthy, crawling with insects.
wF: “There we are. £3 change.”
The Master rolls his eyes, blows the dust and detritus off, and pockets it. He immediately realizes his wallet is missing again. He sighs, reaches into Waldo’s pocket, and retrieves it a second time.
wF: “Would you like a bag with that, sir?”
Master Devlin: “Sure. And a receipt, if possible.”
Waldo digs around and pulls out what looks like a used green condom. He drops the watch and a crumpled receipt into it and hands it over.
Master Devlin (grimacing): “It’s warm. And slimy. 🤢”
wF: “Summer heat. Been in our pockets. Travelling salesman and all that. You understand…”
Master Devlin: “Yes… indeed.”
The Master gags a little as he takes out the watch — it’s already rusted over.
wF: “Pleasure doing business with you, sir!”
Master Devlin: “…Thanks, Wally.”
Waldo scampers up onto his shoulder.
wF: “What should we do now?”
Master Devlin: “We can either go on holiday or return to Widdlington.”
wF: “Holiday! Just… not the beach.”
Master Devlin: “How about Alaska?”
wF: “Sure!”
Master Devlin: “Very well then.”
The Waldoverse continues in The Tower of Walgoth Episode 4