>DD: Inexplicably become Eggs.

You are now Spades Slick. You don't know why you'd even try to be anyone else. Being anyone else would be a stupid option, and you're too preoccupied preparing to stab one of these miserable green motherfuckers to bother with the already-useless pleasantries. The sooner these idiots stop being alive, the better.

You stalk down the halls, your Dead Shuffle an enigma in the eyes whatever assholes are watching you. You sometimes have this sort of sensation where you feel as if you are being watched by some omnipresent being or other.

The sensation generally makes you want to stab somebody in the eyes. Not as if that is a new thing, but you like to think it is slightly stronger than normal. It makes stabbin' pricks around those times more satisfactory than normal.

You continue to strut down the hall, crossing off that one guy you decapitated a little while ago. You don't remember their name, and you don't really care. A crackling noise from a suit pocket reminds you that your subordinates actually give reports every so often. It's a new thing.

You are being contacted by Hearts Boxcars. He asks you to get the hell down here into this bedlam, Slick. You say that he should be fine in the safe alone, for fuck's sake. He replies by saying Crowbar's runnin' at him with an automatic weapon, and a shield in the form of Doze. You say huh, it seems they found a use for that sorry excuse for a gang member after all. He says yeah, okay, just get over here. You tell him that he's going to have to get somebody else to do it.

Probably Deuce.

You don't hear his next phrase over the exchange of gunfire on his end. You begin to receive a call from another frequency the Crew set up before dropping into this eye-searing lime clock hell. You tell Boxcars to call Deuce, and switch over to the next line.

Droog is waiting. You mostly like Droog. You say mostly because you don't completely like anybody. What you mean is that you're pretty sure he's competent at gettin' things done, and you like that. You ask him what's up. He says he got the drop on Matchsticks, and that you can cross him off on the list. Before you can do so, you receive a clocking straight to the face. You immediately start swinging around your Saber Rattle, only to find that nobody is there. Seeing the obvious lack of green torsos around you, it becomes glaringly obvious that it was either Fin or Trace messing with your trails. You hate those two. If you're going to fight somebody, you'd better fucking do it to your face, instead of hiding in another time. Cowards.

Before you can do anything more, a resounding boom echoes throughout the room. The furthermost wall erupts into red flames, the blast wave forcing you backward several inches. A trail of blood appears to form from the edge of the explosion, heading your way, before stopping several meters later. Smoke pours into your room; nobody is in sight. You suppose that's the end of that problem. You pick up your mobile radio box, and go to the next floor of the manor.

>Examine floor.

You are now Clubs Deuce. It's about time. You just got a call from Hearts Boxcars saying he was in trouble. You're generally quite glad to be a help. Entering the vault room, you can see quite the problem occurring. Boxcars is hiding behind his own Wrathtub, taking cover from gunfire at the hands of Crowbar, Trace, and Quarters. Gee, your friend is certainly in a pickle, isn't he? You know exactly how to help.

You throw your much-cherished BULL PENIS CANE through the air, toward the three Felt scumbags. The instant you do so, a side door opens, and none other than Sawbuck steps into the room, and is immediately deprived of a few teeth at the hands of your cane. The two of you are immediately transported to a random point on the timeline. It appears to be some time after the gunfight you arrived in, as there are bullet holes in the wall adjacent to where Sawbuck entered from, and there is also another you with future Boxcars. Everyone looks at each other for a few moments, and you notice that they've got Trace tied up on the floor, and covered in explosives, most of which appear to be yours.

You ask you if you can borrow some explosives. He gives you them, and you immediately throw them Sawbuck-ward, whilst active. You head back into the past, before anybody else was in the room. Surprisingly, the blast doesn't instantly kill Sawbuck. He merely bleeds to death moments later. Huh. You didn't realize that hole was there the entire time, and you had caused it. Well, shit. That's a hell of a mystery no one thought was a mystery and didn't even really need solving, but damn if it didn't just get solved, so nice work. Now, how to get back to the present. Ooh, there's an inviting orange oven over in the corner there. You set the timer to exactly where you would end up when you first entered this place, and hop in, joining some nice green fellow in there already.

>Everything keeps on happening in an infinite cycle.

You pop out of the oven with the green guy, who you suddenly realize is Biscuits. Before you can do anything about the current situation, Boxcars attempts to eat Eggs. The attempt is an overwhelming success. You then do a bunch of shit you already saw happening.

>Go back to being somebody new.

You are now Hear—Spades Slick. You are currently getting a status report from Boxcars and Deuce, who appear to have taken care of Biscuits, Quarters, Trace, Crowbar, Doze, and Sawbuck. You cross them off on your Vendetta Itinerary. Six more green bastards painting the floor. If they got Trace, that means…

That means you are now Diamonds Droog.

You've gotten the news. Six more leprechauns bathed in their own blood. This ain't hopscotch. You're currently on the hunt for Eggs. The pea-brained motherfucker is in the next room to yours. This is going to have to be incredibly precise and calculated to work correctly. This prick doesn't stand a chance. You pull out a remote detonator. Ordinarily, you'd leave the semantics and impressive pyrotechnics show to Deuce, but you doubt he would have remembered what to do. Before you entered the manor, of course, you made a little trip to a nearby warehouse, to leave a gift.

You calmly walk into the room Eggs is in, lighting a cigarette in the process. Eggs spins around on the balls of his feet, and jumps, startled. You wait as the motherfuckers begin to multiply. Their incessant egg-timer ringing is the cacophony of a thousand fucking fingernails on chalkboards. The room is full, anyway. You take a step back, exiting the room slightly, leaving room for more Eggses to pop into existence.

You press the detonator button.

Almost immediately, several Eggses suffer severe organ ruptures, and collapse to the ground, dead. The others soon begin to catch fire. Noting the smoke pouring into the hall from the room, you close the door.

You take a quick drag to the sounds of screaming and an explosion or two.

Several minutes later, you deem it safe to open the door. In doing so, smoke pours into the hall, along with several Eggs corpses, burnt to a fine crisp. Planting those charges was the best decision you've made in the last twenty-four hours. Further examination of the room reveals that the fire managed to reach a boiler in the corner of the room, blow a hole in the wall, and fill the next room over with smoke. Looking in there, you can see the asphyxiated corpse of Die and the crawling wounded body of Fin. Seeing you, he pulls out a grenade. You shoot him in the chest before he can fully pull the pin, and step back. He must have come in while the process was occurring. Die's doll is incinerated, as well.

You can see the place you all came in through from the hole the grenade makes in the far wall. Oh, that reminds you. The manor is now on fire. Might want to do something about that. ...Nah. As such, you stride out of the room, and put a bullet into the second boiler tank. You don't even bother to watch as most of the house is set ablaze. Twelve out of fourteen torsos dead. You get a call from Slick. He's out by the tailor's place, and he wants backup as a witness to how brutally he's going to stab this guy. You say okay, and make your way over there.

You are now Spades Slick. You're standing by a doorway with Droog, and you are about to slit the throat of one of the yellow-hatted motherfuckers who burnt down your favorite casino. The other one's overly-caffinated blood stains your horse hitcher, because you caved his skull in. You hiss out an egomaniacal statement to Droog, pull out a machine gun, and walk into the room, firing entirely away from Stitch. Instead, you target the fuckin' coat he was repairing, to get his attention. You hear shouts from down near the safe, but give too little of a fuck to care. Before anyone can say anything, Stitch lies, twitching, on the ground, throat slit. You turn around, and head to the safe, as you've exhausted all possible sources of amusement in the room. Droog sighs, and grabs the pulsating coat you shot, bringing it with you as the... the what of stars? You can't tell. It appears to be multiple vacillating through different stages. You don't care. It will probably have no ramifications for you whatsoever.

You both head to the safe.

Upon stepping through the door, you note that it seems Boxcars and Deuce really did kill six people.

That doesn't stop your from oiling them up with the gallon you keep stored up, and lighting each cadaver on fire, just to be sure. Thirteen out of fourteen torsos made hollow. That only leaves…

Oh. Him.

Before anyone can say anything, you hear an ear-splitting crash directly behind Droog and you. You both step to the side.

>Cans: Do something interesting.

You are now Hearts Boxcars. You have not yet been this mobster. It must be exciting, yes? You resist the urge to shout "Oh, yeah!" at the appearance of Cans through the wall.

Oh No!

You are now Spades Slick. You just watched Cans clock Boxcars and Deuce directly through the door of the safe, and straight into next month. You and Droog share a glance, before firing shots near the incapacitated, but still living, Trace. It draws the attention of Cans, and he looks near the shots. You both immediately take action, leaping through the whole in the safe made by Boxcars's height.

You're in.

The two of you look at the contents of the safe. Nothin' particularly interesting, save for one object on a pedestal in the center of the room, and the door at the opposite end. You recognize the image object from that time you sold a load of useless shit on the weapons market. It's called Acheron's Hand. You know nothing about it other than the fact that it is a gauntlet with deadly powers. As such, you immediately grab it, and slide it onto your right arm haphazardly. The thing sticks, and you feel slight pains down your carapace arm. Attempting to take the thing off is useless. You see, it's your arm now. Good job.

Cans bursts through the safe door fully. Spinning around, you perform an impossible feat. The pentagram carved into the opisthenarial plate of Acheron's Hand glows with a deep, shadowy purple. You raise the thing in the direction of the large brainless sack of green meat, and a mass of shadowy tendrils erupt forth, carving the manor into Swiss cheese, and impaling Cans approximately forty-six times with dark sorceries. The sleek black plates of Acheron's Hand shine in the light of the safe as the tendrils of energy evaporate. Yeah, you're keepin' this, for your stash. Droog is entirely unharmed, as is everything in the safe. You watch as Cans collapses to the floor, blood covering his entire front. Fourteen out of fourteen leprechaun mobsters bloodied, and most of the clocks probably destroyed utterly. You turn back to the doorway at the other end of the room, to see what Droog's been starin' at the entire time.

The thing is rather ornate, yet technologically advanced, and features four perfectly circular shapes upon it, each glowing cyan and shades of violet. You look into the open doorway, looking into the bright fuchsia light from beyond. Droog raises an eyebrow. You give a wicked smirk in response.

You've hit the jackpot.

>End of Intermission 2.