#unpopular take but I dont actually ship olandy! The two's dynamic just makes more sense as a friendship to me goblin brain

[autisticsponge]

what are friends for? || Dialtown fic

A short little story focused on Randy I wrote while bored, and severely hype fixated on the poor guy.

Warning for depressing topics and themes of death/self destruction, I s'pose (Light fluff at the end though!)

CHAPTER 1/2

“Well this is- is it. Today is the day. The world is REALLY gonna end today. I’m sure of it.” The frail Nokia-headed man whimpers to himself as he peeks his head out of the dumpster he resides in. The sky looks a bit too red for his liking. The air feels rather warm and dry as well. He reaches his bony arm out of the dumpster and opens and closes his bandaged fist to get a sense for the day. “Y-yep… definitely WAY too warm for February… perfect doomsday weather.”

The pathetic man slides back down into the dumpster and curls up in his chair shaped out of trash. He sniffles and fidgets with his sore bandaged hands. “If… if I’m gonna die I don’t wanna be in t-this… this lousy dumpster that is getting FAR too expensive for me. But, I don’t exactly want to die at work either…” The phone-headed man sighs wearily. “Dammit it Randy. Y-you don't get to decide when and where you d-die! You should know this…” He takes a deep breath and sits upright. “Just g-get yourself to work. Death will come when it wants..”

The Nokia man grabs the ripped jean coat he was using as a blanket previously, and throws it on over his stained, blue flannel that sports a busted button. The coat is quite big on his thin frame and helps make him appear fuller than he is. This weirdly tall man clambers out of the dumpster and falls on his phone-face. There’s a soft thud as his body hits the concrete. He quickly sits up and grabs desperately at the bandage sprawled across the top of his head, which has “FUCKFACE” scribbled on it. He runs his boney fingers along the bandage and presses on it gently as he whimpers.

“O-oh no… shit- shit-” Despite believing today is his last day on earth, Randy doesn’t quite fancy the idea of dying from his bandage falling off. Exploding doesn't sound like the best way to go out. Then again, pretty much all ways of dying are terrifying in some regard. 

The Nokia man calms down enough to stand up and stop touching his bandage. He sighs heavily. “Oh whatever… I-I’m gonna die anyways… What does it matter? Just get to work, Randy.”

The pathetic not-so-little man trudges across the wonderfully rancid town of Dialtown, more specifically Downtown, as that's where his dumpster is. Of course he never believed he was cool enough to ACTUALLY live in Downtown. More like he’s a squatter there. 

Randy makes his way to the subway station, trying to avoid eye-contact with everyone. He’s accidentally given too many people the “wrong look” and nearly lost both his kidneys. He nervously scrounges up the minimal amount of change he has to purchase a subway ticket. Since the world is ending, he really shouldn't bother, but deep down Randy is terrified of what will happen if he doesn’t pay for a ticket.

The Nokia man hurries onto the train, nearly tripping over his own feet as he gets on. Instead of searching around for a desolate corner to take refuge in for the ride to Uptown like normal, Randy just hustles to the closest available spot. He ends up leaning against the train wall, squished between two other people. The train starts and he falls into one of said people. He mutters a quick apology and fidgets with his sore hands. Occasionally the pathetic man glances out the train window, only to feel dizzied by the blurring tunnel walls, reflecting back his own bleak existence with their dull grey coloring. Suddenly the world ending doesn't seem that awful to Randy. If everything just stopped, it wouldn't be so bad anymore. It seems quiet. More meaningful than anything he could do while alive.

Before he realizes it, the train comes to a halt and Randy slams into the OTHER person he's squished between. He stumbles over an embarrassed apology and darts off the train before he loses any organs.

As Randy stumbles down the streets of Uptown towards the park, The B o y appears. A short statured lad sporting a red flannel tucked into black jeans, his sleeves rolled up just above his elbow, and a nifty cream colored wall phone anchored on as a head with a little red fez hat sitting on top.

"Oh yo, hey, Rands!" The Boy waves to the significantly taller and more socially awkward resident of Dialtown.

"O-oh uh hey Oliver.." Randy forces a weak smile… despite lacking the ability to ACTUALLY smile…(just dont think about it too hard). "I uh… don't u-usually see you out this early.. are you preparing for the end of the world t-too?"

"I'm ALWAYS ready for the end o' the world, dude!" The fez wearing boy dose some gnarly finger guns. "Now if you're askin' why I'm out an' about, that's simple: Mr. Dickens's sendin' me on some errands. He says I should get out of that sticky ol' cinema more and breathe air that may kill me less, and this was a good excuse." Oliver shrugs. "So how about you, my groovy dude? Are YOU preparin' for the end o’ the world?"

The Nokia man fidgets with his hands, picking gently at his bloody bandages. "I guess men- mentally I'm preparing…" Randy whimpers and looks down at the small man. "Uh… it was nice knowing you, Oliver… I need to get going now." He turns to walk away to the park.

"Um… nice knowin' ya too Rands-? Catch ya later…" The fez wearing lad stares at Randy as he trails away. He hesitantly turns away to carry on with his current objective, though he’s more concerned for Randy than usual.

Randy soon reaches Dialtowns… unsightly park. It's definitely an acquired taste of scenery; a taste most people never intend to have. Between the aggressive wildlife and used needle filled grass there's a lot the park lacks.

The Nokia man's weak heart pounds in his chest as he draws closer to his job site. The pouding rings loudly in his hearing receptors. His breath falls short. "Im gonna d-die here… this is t-the end for me, I can feel it-!" He takes a few shallow, rapid breaths and trembles. "A-at- at least… everyone else will be d-dying too. I-I'm finally not alone in this…" A strange form of comfort overtakes Randy's body and his heart seems to quiet down. A few quick lived tranquil steps leads the awkward man to his job location. The pond.

The paper-shredder-headed swans that reside at the pond peak their beakless heads up at the pathetic man who's entered their vicinity. As far as they’re concerned it's snack time, and Randy's flesh is the hottest menu item.

"Ok guys… let's just get t-this over with ok?" A warm breeze swirls around the Nokia-headed man and he shudders. The swans flap their wings and squawk with murderous intent. “Yep… c-come and.. come and get me-” Randy chokes over his words and sits down at the pond edge. He can hardly believe he’s willingly about to be torn to shreds, but what's the point in fighting it anymore? It was always supposed to end like this for dear old Randy Jade.

The swans share a few skeptical glances, but they know this sad excuse for a “person” can’t do much. The fowls approach him, their wings raised as their heads whirr. Randy clutches his fists, shuts his optical receptors, and sharply inhales.

CHAPTER 2/2

“Hey… c’mon wake up dude...”

Randy groans as he regains consciousness. His whole body feels stiff, and his hands ache and burn. “Wh-wha…?” His optical receptors slide open and the pathetic man is greeted by the familiar face of a special lad.

“Oh thank god– Randy! You’re awake!” Oliver hugs onto Randal tightly, causing the thin man to whimper and flinch. The Boy quickly let’s go. “Sorry… Uh.. how are ya feelin’?”

The Nokia-headed man slowly sits up, his breath hitches from the stiff pain. “Um… to be honest… N-not the best. I really c-can’t remember much. What happened..?”

“I was fixin’ to ask you the same thing, pal-! I was walkin’ back from the flea market after finding some RADICAL goods and.. Well I decided to check in on you, since you were actin' all funky and like, WAY more depressin' than normal, and that’s when I spotted ya laying by the pond. Not very stellar if I’m honest. You really freaked me out man..” Oliver sighs. “Anyways, I brought you to the cinema with me quick as I could. Mr. Dickens fixed up your hands and uh.. I did my best to patch up your jacket.”

"O-oh…. oh.." Randy looks over himself. His hands are wrapped thick in bandages and there's some amateurly sewn patches all over his jacket. Memories of what happened at the pond soon return to the pathetic man's memory. “Im- Im sorry Oliver…” Randal sniffles and whines. 

Oliver puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, hey, calm down, bud! It’s all groovy… I’m just curious what happened to you? I mean I know you’ve said those swans can be wicked brutal but I’ve never seen you look THAT banged up-!” The lad gives Randy a concerned stare.

The Nokia-headed man takes a deep breath. The burning ache in his hands grows more intense, and seems to consume his whole body. “I-I um… I was just so sure that the w-world was gonna end today. I d-didn’t see a point in even trying anymore… we BOTH know those swans would’ve won a-anyways..” Randy mumbles. Oliver rubs his shoulder a bit, in an attempt to soothe the pathetic man. 

"Hey calm down, Rands… It's all groovy-" Oliver says hesitantly. Randy sniffles and stares at the sticky floor. "Look uh… sometimes life deals shitty cards. And it's what we do with those cards that defines our character. Even the seemingly worst of cards can be turned into some tubular tale, pal!" The lad says with great enthusiasm. "Your no lost cause, Randy, and I know some day you're gonna kick some swan-ass!" Randy gets an encouraging, hardy pat on the back. 

The Nokia-man perks up. "Thank you Oliver…"

After a few silent minutes, The Boy helps the taller, sadder man to his feet. "You wanna watch a movie? We have some leftover popcorn Mr. D wants me to get sold… I'll scrounge up some money to give to him. He doesn't need to know WE ate it. Long as it gets 'sold.'"

"Um… n-not one of those scary CGI Mock Buster movies, right? . . .right?" 

Oliver sighs. "No… no. We can watch something less scary for you. Hey how do you feel about some classic ol' cartoons? THOSE can't possibly be too horrifyin', right?"

". . ."

"..Randy?"

". . ."

"Randy."

He glances away.

"Oh c'mon Rands! Cartoons? Really?!"

". . . Their moral lessons are so intimidating! I-I could never live up to those standards…"

Oliver sighs heavily. "Okay, you can't get upset watchin' Tom and Jerry, Randy. NO ONE gets upset watching that show. Old dudes on their DEATH BEDS will watch that show."

Randal takes a breath. "Okay. Sure. W-we can watch that then. I-I'm practically on my death bed anyhow..."

Oliver sighs softly, and guides his sad friend to one of the empty showing rooms. After getting a bucket of stale, and questionably sticky popcorn, the two settle down to watch some cartoons on the big screen, playing off an old reel Oliver kinda just.. had lying around for whatever reason.

Randy sinks down into the velvet seat he's in (which is almost as sticky as the cinema floor), feeling significantly calmer than when he woke up. If Randy DIDN'T have Oliver to keep him in check occasionally, he's about 87% sure he'd be mega dead by now.

As the Nokia-headed man starts to drift asleep, holding a now almost empty bucket of old poppy-corn, he can't help but feel just the tiniest sliver of hope swell in his chest. Valentines day is a mere two days away. Who knows, maybe the pathetic man will get asked out by some GREEN cryptid, who'd help him gain confidence and learn self worth. But who knows. That'd be kinda WEIRD huh? A bit far-fetched if you will.