Journée des Ordures Ménagères

10.06.25 Undisclosed Location We open outside a rather nondescript warehouse out in the middle of a field. An odd sight, to be sure, but almost as strange is seeing the Masters of the Moscowverse standing outside, wearing their Red Army uniforms for some reason. Kenny Freeman looks at his phone, raising an eyebrow in confusion before turning his attention to an equally-confused Randall Schwartz. “You sure this is the place?” he asks, motioning to the seemingly abandoned building in front of them. “Why would your contact bring us out to the middle of who knows where?” “I mean, it’s obviously not the athletic commission,” Randall replies, shaking his head. “But they did say that if I wanted the multiversal multi-pass renewed, this would be the place for it.” “Alright, then,” Kenny states with a sigh as he makes his way to the door. “Let’s get this over with quickly, we gotta get back on the road for our trip to Columbia.” “Columbia?” asks Randall, following close behind. “I could go for some coffee right about now. Or maybe some co--” “That’s Colombia, you goober,” Kenny says with a slight chuckle. “We’re heading to South Carolina to take out the tr--” Kenny is unable to finish his sentence as he pulls at the door handle…which doesn’t budge. “What the hell?” He pulls at the handle again, growing more frustrated before Randall steps in to give it a try…and, curiously, the door opens with zero struggle. This gets another raised eyebrow from Kenny as the pair make their way into the building. As they step through the doorway, the Masters are greeted with an expansive office space, looking an awful lot like a DMV…further confirmed with a twist as the pair notice a sign nearby. The language is incomprehensible at first, quickly flashing in English which surprises Kenny even further as he reads it aloud. “Department of Multiversal Ventures,” he says, letting out another chuckle. “Of course it’s a DMV. Alright then, bud, let’s get--” Kenny is once again cut off, this time by a voice from behind. “What in the world is this?” The pair turn around to see the curious man that was keeping tabs on them in Gary, Indiana, looking around in amazement from the open doorway. He steps into the building, and just as quickly as he comes in the door shuts behind him. This jolts the man back into the reality of his situation as he tries to open the door, only to find that it won’t budge. “And who are you?” asks Randall, as the man finally accepts that he’s been locked into this strange new world with a sigh. “Kent Ramsey’s the name,” he replies, turning his attention to the Masters. “Roving reporter for The Gazette. There’s been an awful lot of talk about you gentlemen, and it’s up to me to find out what that’s all ab--” “Yeah, okay,” Randall interrupts, waving the reporter off. “I didn’t ask for a whole info dump. Since you’re here, you’d might as well follow along while we get some paperwork sorted out.

“You know where you’re going?” asks Kenny, to which The Entertainer pulls out the multipass from his pocket. “Yeah,” Randall responds. “Because I actually read the instructions, ya goober.” With that, the trio make their way down the hall, trying not to get distracted by the strange figures wandering in and out of the rooms along the way. An Eternity (or at least, An Hour) Later… The three men sit in chairs placed outside one of these rooms with a plaque that reads “M.E. Owens” on the door, with Kenny anxiously looking at his watch for roughly the millionth time since they’ve sat down. Not helping matters is Kent constantly asking him question after question, and we catch the tail end of these one of these just in time to suffer alongside Freeman. “So, to be clear, there are other Kenny Freemans and Randall Schwartzes running around? How exactly does that even work?” Before a response can be made, the door to the room opens. A tall feline figure steps out in a business suit, looking at the Masters with a nod before they enter…but the figure glares at Kent, motioning for him to stay in the hall before closing the door. “Gentlemen,” the feline says in a deep, gravelly voice as it takes a seat across from Kenny and Randall. “The truth of the matter is, we don’t know how you stumbled across that multi-pass in the first place.” “Hey, it’s not my fault somebody left this laying around,” Randall states, placing the pass on the desk. “But it was unsigned when I found it, and as far I’m concerned possession is nine-tenths of the law even across the multiverse.” “That is all well and good,” replies Owens with a nod. “And the fact is, you’re right. That multi-pass belongs to you, and we will renew it. However…” He gives the Masters a cold glare before finishing his sentence. “We are looking over this case quite closely. The renewal being granted is a short-term deal, after which we will assess the situation on the whole.” “Heh, whole,” mutters Randall, which gets a bit of side-eye from Owens. “After all,” the feline continues, giving little more attention to The Entertainer. “This department is fully aware of the misadventures you two have had for some time now. It seems every corner of the multiverse has a Kenny Freeman and a Randall Schwartz running around, meddling with things with nary a care. It turns out Masters of the Multiverse is rather fitting for you.” “Moscowverse,” Randall states, making a clear correction in a time when one is not needed. “We’re the Masters of the Moscowverse.” This gets zero response from Owens, forcing Schwartz to hang his head in shame. The cat-like creature turns its attention to the desk, grabbing a pen to sign a paper. Mere seconds later, we see some writing change on the multi-pass, which Owens hands over to Randall. “And there we are,” it says with another nod. “Your multi-pass has been renewed, and you are now cleared to compete in any combat sport you desire within the multiverse until the short-term deal is done. You and Mr. Freeman will be expected to appear at the Court of Interdimensional Affairs as soon as your other obligations have wrapped up, but in the meantime…” Owens motions to the door behind them, which opens on its own. “You’re free to leave, as our business is completed. Best of luck with whatever you have planned, and I hope all the best upon your hearing with the CIA.” The pair nod in acknowledgement before rising from their seats, stepping through the doorway to greet Kent in the hallway. “Right,” Kenny says as the reporter stands up. “As soon as we get outta here, Randall and I are off to Columbia. If you really wanna keep asking your questions, you can tag along with us.” “Wow,” replies Kent. “That sounds amazing…but we’re an awful long way from Ohio, don’t ya think?” “That’s Columbus, ya dingus,” remarks Randall, as Kenny just lets out a sigh before the trio make their way down the hall. It takes them a while, but the gang arrive at the main door and--much to their surprise--are able to open it and leave with no hassle whatsoever. “Oh, thank goodness,” says an exasperated Randall as he raises his hands to the sky. “I thought we were gonna be trapped in a DMV forever. Now we can go deal with Garbage Day and pick up our first win as a team in years.” “Garbage Day?” asks Kent, and if you listen closely you might be able to hear a lunatic with a gun yell the same phrase back, presumably before shooting someone putting a heavy bag into a trashcan outside. “He’s talking about New World Trash,” replies Kenny, paying little mind to Randall dropping to his knees to kiss the ground below him. “Bex Savage and Angel Quinley. They’re known associates of the Troy family, and Randall here still remembers the time Kaz nearly broke his arm.” “The man nearly shredded my necktoral muscles!” exclaims Randall, pointing to his neck for emphasis. “I was in a wheelchair for months. It was terrible. The worst part was they told me a necktoral isn’t a real thing, so I couldn’t get a disabled parking placard.” “That’s horrible,” replies Kent, shaking his head. “I know! You know how much parking sucks back home?” “What?” asks the reporter, astounded by just how oblivious The Entertainer. “That’s not…y’know what, never mind.” Kent turns his attention back to Kenny, who just shrugs his shoulders at the whole thing. “Columbus, then? I’ll follow you guys there.” The two nod to each other before Kenny and Randall rush to their rental. They pull away, with the reporter following close behind. Curiously, the warehouse seems to disappear with a flash of bright light, before the scene fades to black.