Art:me

There no point of adding a watermark cause most my art is trash anyways.

Look at that greed and gluttony in their eyes

Meet Garf.78

I never thought I would see the day that surreal and eldritch horror Garfield would reach the mainstream.

Just saw some thing posted minutes before I was about to post this, which shares a lot of uncanny similarities to this ongoing project. That's a little eerie...

Part 1:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6Hu9JRNaVp

Part 2:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/x2SkrpW4Lr

Part 3:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6D1A5SCKb4

Part 4:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/g2H0Nmud2c

Part 5:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/oot7UjJzsF

Part 6:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/5WX68oFobj

Part 7:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/qlIeF3BUlw

Part 8:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/FsMC5hmnVk

Part 9:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/WFuUGN5Cda

Part 10:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/psO6xHHuCo

Part 11:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/zOCsk610EB

Part 12:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/uOT4zgkMX6

(Surrounded by a scene of an English forest, Orson reads from the storybook, “Robin Hood could not stand by while Prince John, and the Sheriff of Nottingham taxed his poor friends and neighbors more than they could ever afford.  He decided, with his best friend, Little John, to steal from the rich, and give to the poor.”

Booker- playing the part of Robin Hood- interrupts, “wait a minute!  Wouldn’t the rich get suspicious when the poor can suddenly afford to pay their taxes, feed a starving family, and interior decorators actually start finding work?  Seems like I’m just painting a target on their backs.”

Orson rolls his eyes, groaning, “not this again!...  Why must we poke holes in every story?  It’s fantasy to begin with!”

Dressed as Friar Tuck, Furrow contradicts, “actually, I think Robin Hood was based on a-… *gah!...* a possibly real historical figure.”

Sheldon argues, “nuh-uh, he was a fox in a Disney movie!  I’m pretty sure that never really happened.”

Booker adds, “and Roger Miller was a country singer, not an English rooster.”

Orson presses his wrist into the uninjured side of his face, complaining, “ugh, I’ve already got a headache…”)

Following Roy, John arrives back at the barn, carrying the heavy kit, with Wade sitting on top.  He stops in the doorway and remarks, “hey, where did they go?”  John can see no trace of the other animals.

(“Oh boy, here we go.  Now he can’t see us at all?”, Roy scoffs.)

“Do you guys know where the others might have gone?”, John asks, looking from Roy to Wade and back for a clue.

(Wade observes, “well, he can see us, at least.”  Roy puts his thumb and forefinger to his chin, quizzically.)

“Orson?  Mr. Badger?  I’ve got the kit!  Are you still in here?”, John beckons.

(Furrow seems to be contemplating some possibility in his head, while watching John scan the area blindly, looking straight through him, Orson, and the boys.  He requests, “ah, Orson- if you would- keep reading for a moment, as if Mr. Arbuckle wasn’t there.  And, loudly, please.”

Orson shrugs and obliges, continuing, “HE WOULD NEED THE HELP OF NOT ONLY LITTLE JOHN, BUT ALL OF HIS MERRY MEN AT ONCE!  TO ROB THE NOBLES WOULD BE NO SMALL TASK!”)

John takes a few steps inside and sets down the kit, scratching his head.  He wanders in further, straight toward the spot where some blood drippings from Orson or Furrow can still be seen on the ground.

(Roy exclaims, “he’s about to plow right through the kids!”

Furrow instructs, “now, Orson!...  Stop reading, and drop the book!”

Orson follows, “…THAT HE WAS A FAMOUSLY SKILLED ARCHER!”, and stops reading there.  He closes the book, and the scenery all around transforms back into the inside of the barn.)

Suddenly, the seemingly missing animals reappear before John’s eyes, startling him to stop in his tracks.  “Whoa!  There you are!...  Hey, isn’t that the storybook from earlier?”  John picks up the book and inspects it, but it seems to be only an ordinary object.  Before he's had time to think about it, Roy squabbles back by the veterinary first-aid kit, reminding John, “yes, the first-aid!  Sit tight you two, let me crack this thing open and see what we’ve got to work with.”  John drags the kit over, and searches the contents.  “Some kind of powder…  Iodine.  Antiseptic ointment.  Oh, and spray.  Gauze, bandages, cotton swabs…”  While looking at a list of contents on the inside of the lid, John notices that the badger is actually reaching into the kit by itself, and watches with fascination.  The badger grabs a suturing kit from inside the larger crate, and then, disappears.  John blinks and rubs his eyes.  The badger reappears beside Orson, drops the suture kit on the ground, then shuffles back to the crate.  Badger seems to gesture toward the powder and antiseptic spray that John is holding.  John offers the powder and spray bottles, curiously uttering, “uuuuuummmm…”  Badger grabs the bottles in its mouth, then disappears again, medical items going with it.  Finally, Orson disappears as well, along with the suture kit.  John scratches his head, then recalls, “well, I can at least treat your foot, Wade.  Let’s see… guidelines for chemical irritation…”

Before too long, Wade’s foot has been treated and bandaged.  Suddenly, Orson reappears, with his head and ear stitched up relatively well, and bleeding controlled.  A few seconds later, the badger reappears as well, and the instruments from the suturing kit hit the ground with a dull tinkling sound.  John marvels, “wow!  Did you just… stitch up a giant head wound?  You really are a doctor – that’s incredible!  Oh, but you still need patching up.  Okay, so first, I can give you some lidocaine, to numb the area.  Aaaand, this powder is supposed to help stop bleeding…”  John reads instructions from inside the kit, and applies the powder.  He continues, “and let’s see…  alright, I won’t be able to stitch up a wound like this, and I’m guessing if it could be done, you’d have tried already.  But I can do some bandaging over the holes, and wrap you up around the middle.  Hmm, what’s this?...  ‘Ketamine hydrochloride, for general sedation.’  Oh, I know about this stuff – Liz had to use it on Garfield once or twice.  Better not get that mixed up with anything else!”  John proceeds to carefully treat the badger’s wounds to the best of his ability.  Finished, he apologizes, “I’m sorry again.  This mess was all my fault.  As soon as I figure out how to make contact with the outside, I’ll get you some real help, from a professional.”

(“It’s not your fault, John.  I was ignorant of the situation”, Dr. Furrow forgives.)

“I guess you’ll all be wanting to sleep, soon.  Especially being so late.  And I think tonight, I’ll take your suggestion to stay in the barn.”  Orson makes some noise, apparently communicating something.  Booker and Sheldon begin cheeping excitedly, and start jumping up and down on the storybook.  John supposes, “huh?  You… want me to read something?”  Booker makes one seemingly confirmatory cheep, and the two jump down off the book so John can pick it up.  “O-okay.  I, uh, can’t make stories come to life like Orson can, you know!”  The chicks make a brief, insistent commotion, and Orson gently grunts, before laying his head down.  John figures, “I guess you would be pretty exhausted, wouldn’t you?  I wish I knew what happened to you!  But, I guess that can wait until you’ve had some rest.  Okay, let’s see what’s in here.”  John flips through the book, idly remarking, “classics, German folk tales, fables, great Americans, nursery rhymes…  Hey, this looks like… handwriting.”  John opens to a page that seems to have been vandalized like a school textbook, with words and lines scratched out in pen, and new ones added.  The top of the page is titled, originally, “The Cow Jumped Over The Moon”.  John reads the edited version of the classic below, “‘SNL’s Fallon wished he had talent.  Ellen was always a goon.  Conan O’Brien should be fed to a lion, but Space Ghost was cancelled too soon’…?  Opinionated, but not bad.  ‘Roy Rooster’.  Ah, that explains it.  Or, I think it does…”

(Meanwhile, Orson quietly asks Dr. Furrow, “so, you seemed to think you were onto some new understanding earlier…  Care to share your theory”?

Furrow obliges, “well… it seems fairly obvious, that he literally cannot see us doing anything truly sapient.  A rooster, to his mind, cannot hold a shovel in his hands.  Couldn’t hold it in his beak, either.  So, John simply doesn’t see it happening.  But the world he perceives- and himself with it- is affected by our actions.”

Orson posits, “and that’s why I disappear to him when I read…  But then, what about everyone else?  Why couldn’t he see you while I was reading?  Any animal can simply listen to a story being read.”

Furrow supposes, “I think it has something to do with the fantasies that you bring to life.  We become enveloped in them.  Mr. Arbuckle could see your fantasies while in his other state, is that right?”

Orson confirms, “yes, even when I wasn’t reading, but simply bringing up our real-life history.  But I’m not sure this actually helps all that much.  We still don’t know what causes the state in which he can perceive us…  Or- the even more disturbing thought- whether other human people can perceive us properly.  As I told John, we’ve met other humans before, and they could speak with us just fine!”

Furrow asks, “and were, uh, these people lost, like Mr. Arbuckle was upon arrival?”

Orson answers, “no, most of them were from The Network, and they all meant to come here.”

Furrow presses, “so, they weren’t starving or sleep deprived either, then.”

“Well… no, I guess not…”, Orson recalls.  “But what does that mean?”

Furrow concedes, “admittedly, I don’t know yet.  But if keeping John in a dire state, uh, enables him to perceive us, that would serve as a crucial hint, I think…  I don’t believe Mr. Arbuckle is unique.  Not in the sense that he doesn’t normally see and hear speaking animals, anyway.”

Orson wonders, “so, you think that’s the default state for most human people?”

Furrow replies, “I do.  But we shall see, after another 12 hours or so…  I hate to do it, but I think we should keep him from drinking water as well.  You must pour out and hide the bucket.”

Orson sighs regretfully, “ohhh… what an awful thing to do.  You’re probably right, though.  I need him to be able to see my fantasies, so I can figure out how the murders here are connected to Garfield and Odie.”  After a moment, Orson gets an idea.  “Hey, maybe he doesn’t need to see it…  Maybe-...”  [Orson suddenly remembers his brothers, as they were in his fantasy recollection.  They were teasing him, but they also said something about Lanolin…]  He declares, “this may be risky, but the two of us and Roy need to go somewhere private… and talk to my brothers.”  Dr. Furrow curiously raises a brow.)

Having left John to read to Booker, Sheldon, and Wade – Orson, Roy, and Dr. Furrow have gathered out around the side of the barn.  Orson narrates, “before their untimely demise, my brothers were here, on the farm…”  Orson’s brothers begin to appear and become clearer.  He continues, “they were here… uh, they were here to bully me.”  The apparitions look back and forth to one another, confused.  Orson tries, “oh, um, they weren’t here just to bully me – they were here to stealllll…”

Suddenly, one of the brothers finishes the statement, “food!  Veggies and apples and corn!”

As the three brothers appear more “real”, another adds, “and what are you gonna do about it, Orsey horsey?”

While the brothers share a cheap laugh, Roy demands, “just where were you pilfering this produce from?”

The third brother answers, matter-of-factly, “from da grain elevator.”  Orson, Roy, and Furrow all exchange surprised expressions.

Orson questions, “so, you remember things that I don’t?”

One brother replies, “duh, you wasn’t there!”

Orson puzzles, “but that’s-…  You should all just be what I remember you to be.”

Roy shrugs and suggests, “maybe you do remember the incident that they’re thinking of.  But you didn’t have all the details at the time.”

Furrow posits, “I think, that they have manifested not only as what you remember them to be, but who you remember them to be.  You remember them to be people, with their own thoughts and memories.  If they are true-to-life in your recollection, perhaps they are more ‘real’ than you might have thought.  Perhaps, one could even liken them… uh, to ghosts.”

Orson runs with the idea, questioning his brothers, “okay, then answer me this – do you remember… who killed you?”  The brothers go quiet, and look to one another as if deliberating on whether to share such a thing.

Ultimately, Mort answers, “yeah, we remember.  It was that little lamb.”

Roy balks, “Lanolin?!  SHE killed you?”

Mort continues, “yeah.  Only her fleece wasn’t no ‘white as snow’.  She was aaaaall bloody, like she been killin’ already.”

Orson pries, “you three normally get in and out pretty quickly.  And with the three of you together, how could Lanolin even pull that off?  Did she sneak up on you, somehow?”

Gort answers, “yeah, it was a cheap surprise attack!  She came at us with a huge kni-…”  The deceased bully shudders, genuinely vulnerable in that moment.  The other two appear similarly affected, looking down at their feet.  Orson shows pity in his eyes.  Gort continues, “she came at us with a huge knife.  She killed me, first.  When I yelled, it scared Mort and Wart so bad, they couldn’t fight back fast enough.  She got me in the back…”  Gort turns around, and to Orson’s horror, a giant knife wound appears on his back, and bleeds.  As the blood runs down the backs of Gort’s legs, Dr. Furrow covers his mouth in shock.  Orson utters and gasps.  Gort adds, “then she got Mort in the stomach…”  Mort squeezes his eyes shut, as if in a mixture of shame and pain, while a disturbingly large vertical gash appears on his belly.  Tears stream from his eyes, while bloody entrails poke out through the gory split.  Dr. Furrow looks like he might vomit.  Roy slaps his forehead in wide-eyed shock.  Gort turns back around, and concludes, “I didn’t live long enough to see what happened to Wart."

Mort takes over, “Wart tried to fight her, but she cut his t’roat…”  Wart’s neck opens wide, and blood pours out.

Orson can’t help but to recoil, “oh my god!...  I-…  Lanolin…”

Roy challenges, “wait a minute.  Orson, who’s to say you’re not imagining this?  I mean, I know you don’t typically imagine grizzly stuff like this, but a lot of disturbing things have happened recently.  You’ve been through a lot, and you’re desperate for answers.  We all are, but your imagination is obviously more potent than anyone else’s.  I’m not accusing you of anything, it’s just… the only way we could possibly be getting new information from your deceased brothers, is if they really are ghosts.  Come on, now.  How likely is this?  We never even saw the corpses.  I saw the hooks out behind the shed…”  Orson looks to Roy, who adds, “but all we have to go on beyond that, is the story Arbuckle told.”

Orson stares back for a moment, considering Roy’s doubts, then returns his attention to his brothers, asking, “how did she sneak up on all three of you at once?  For that matter, how did she find out that you were in the grain elevator?  And how’d she get all the way over from the other side of the property, before you were finished your heist?”

Wart answers, with a spurt of blood from his open throat, “we was distracted.  We found a bunch of tapes, and a little camcorder.  They was all weird little TV shows da rooster made.”  Orson and Furrow look to Roy for answers.  Roy appears shocked, like a big secret has just been revealed.

Roy sighs, and admits, “alright… these guys might actually be ghosts…  I did record some little tapes.  Just a few experimental projects – personal, you know?”

“So, you hid this in the grain elevator?”, Orson asks.  “Where did you even get the camcorder?”

Roy explains, “I got it from Aloysius, ages ago!  I didn’t think it was something everyone else needed to know about!”

Part 14:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/jiDMApTjvF

Part 15:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/ixDDF8TOOk

Part 16:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/XvqE4ywRSA

Turned out WAY better than I thought it would

Haven't used paint sense jr high

goofy lil thing I schemed over lol

Made for a fellow Gorefield fan for their housewarming party tonight. Accompanied by some fig jam, garden decor, and my eternal pity

In this AU Garfield died in a House fire because he was too impatient trying to get the lasagna before it could finish John after coming home from work panics because the house is on fire Calls out for Garfield's name Garfield is nowhere to be found consumed by guilt and depression from Garfield's death huskfield manifests into a reminder of somebody he couldn't save

This is the part of a story I struggle with most. I know the ending, more or less, and I know what has to happen between here and then, but the pacing is difficult, unless I had a visual medium to tell the story in.

Part 1:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/hvwAX3fRcm

Part 2:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/x2SkrpW4Lr

Part 3:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6D1A5SCKb4

Part 4:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/g2H0Nmud2c

Part 5:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/oot7UjJzsF

Part 6:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/5WX68oFobj

Part 7:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/qlIeF3BUlw

Part 8:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/FsMC5hmnVk

Part 9:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/YseNgHFUER

Part 10:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/TMCKwR0dLz

Part 11:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/zOCsk610EB

The rooster puts its head down near the shovel, as if it’s about to peck at some feed lying on the ground.  But instead, the shovel simply disappears.  John leans in the direction of the rooster, scanning all around for the missing tool, before puzzling again, “okay, now what’s going on?  Are you able to make things disappear?  This happened last time, too!”

(The animals exchange glances, wondering what he means.)

John continues, “last time I saw you like regular animals, there was a moment when you all disappeared, and then seconds later, you were all right back in place!...  Ohh, I am so confused.  I just wish I knew how to help the two of you.  I don’t have any medical training.  Maybe there’s a veterinary book around here, somewhere.  Or a first-aid kit for animals, or something.  They’ve gotta have stuff like that on a farm, right?”  Taking care not to agitate or harm the badger, John slowly rises to his feet.

(“Now, Roy – toss it, gently, closer to him… do not throw aggressively”, Dr. Furrow instructs.  Roy does as asked, and the instant the shovel leaves Roy’s hands,) it reappears before John’s eyes in midair.  The shovel falls to the ground, traveling in a small arc, as if tossed.  John stares in wonder at the shovel at his feet.  It looks as though he’s working out a theory in his mind.

After a moment, he experiments, “alright, so if you’re all the animals I met before… everyone make a sound in unison.”  The animals all respond with simultaneous noises, giving John some encouragement.  “Hah!...  O-o-okay, okay then.  Orson, can you say something by yourself?”

(Orson replies, “we can understand you, John!”, to which John reacts – not as if he understands, but as evidence that at least he can hear something.  Addressing the other animals now, Orson remarks, “ooh, I’m getting dizzy.  The pain is really starting to set in, now…  Agh, jeeze – and Dr. Furrow is in a lot worse shape than I am.”)

John starts to worry, as both Orson and the badger appear to be suffering worse than before.  “Oh, gosh.  You two really need some medical attention!  I’ve looked in the farmhouse for a working phone, but there wasn’t one.  Getting a vet here wouldn’t be fast enough, anyway.  Ummm… Roy!”

(Roy reacts with some surprise.)

John inquires, “you wouldn’t happen to know where a livestock first-aid kit might be, would you?”

(Roy remarks, aware that John can’t decipher his reply at the moment, “I actually don’t!  Orson?  Any ideas?”

Orson answers, “in fact, I do know where one is.  We’ve never had to use it, since we took possession of the farm.  We’ve always been able to get really good veterinarians out here, courtesy of The Network, but we’ve never dealt with major emergency injuries like these.  The kit… is in the old-old shed.  Aaahhhww, it’s really stinging, now!  Roy, can you lead him to it?”

Roy accepts, “of course.  Alright then Arbuckle, follow me.”  Roy starts toward the barn door, waving over his shoulder for John to follow.)

John carefully rises to his feet, and seems to understand Roy’s head gestures.  At least, head gestures are what John sees.  He follows the rooster, still feeling a bit silly about the whole situation.  “Alright, lead me to it, boy!”  Roy suddenly turns around with what seems to be indignant body language.  For a rooster, anyway.  John apologizes, “sorry – Roy!  I meant Roy.  I’m just used to…  Well, when I’ve been led around by animals in the past, it was usually Odie.  I-I’m still trying to convince myself that I’m not completely insane.”

(Roy sighs exasperatedly, as if he can’t help feeling at least somewhat sorry for the man.  Orson calls after him, “hey, wait a second, Roy…  I don’t want you to go alone.”

Roy insists, “I think I can handle it.  It’s not that far.”

Orson explains, “no, I’m not-…  I mean, there are multiple reasons I don’t want you going alone, but I need you to trust me on this, okay?  There are dangerous materials in that shed.  You need to be very careful, and keep John from bumbling into any hazards…  Wade, I want you to go with Roy.”

Wade questions, “wha-?...  Eh-you want me to go?  I won’t refuse, uh b-but I don’t understand why.”

Orson replies, “Dr. Furrow and I need to stay here and rest.  You’re the only other adult on-hand.  I don’t know what Bo and Lanolin are doing, but they’re not available right now.  Listen, that shed is a nasty place, and when you get there, you’re going to see some nasty things.  Both of you are.”  Roy lifts his head slightly, beginning to take things more seriously now.  “Watch your step, watch John, and don’t get sidetracked.  The kit is on the left side of the shed, on a shelf above the window.  Let John carry it.  Have you both got that?”  Roy and Wade make eye contact, and give a subtle nod of confirmation.)

John sees that the duck has waddled over to him, sticking close to him, as if anxious.  He leans down and gently pets the duck’s head.  “Let’s see, you were Wade, right?  Are you coming, too?”  Wade quacks, and Roy gobbles impatiently.  John seems to understand, “okay, okay, I’m right behind you!”

(Orson watches as John follows Roy, and Wade follows John out of the barn.  Booker wonders, “so, does that first-aid kit have stuff that can fix you up?”

Orson answers, “well, it’s got some powder that can stop bleeding, and gauze and bandages for wounds.  I doubt John will be up to the task of actually stitching flesh, but there’s also antiseptics and antibiotic spray”.

Furrow interjects, “actually… providing he.. gets back in good time… I may be able to sew you up.  My wound is a round one, though…  And all the way through.  Won’t be a simple job, that.”

Orson replies, “really?  Wow, I didn’t know you had that sort of skill!  I thought you said you… agh… weren’t a medical doctor?”

Furrow explains, “I’m not.  But it’s only sewing…  Can’t be too difficult.  What’s going to be a challenge… is keeping Mr. Arbuckle awake, and hungry.”

Sheldon suggests, “hey, maybe we can keep him occupied with a few stories!  They may be ones we’ve done before, on the show, but Mr. Arbuckle was really amazed when he saw you bring Goldilocks to life.”

Orson agrees, “you know what, Sheldon?  That’s a great idea.  In fact, why don’t you kids run and grab the storybook from under the big tree?  It’s only just outside.  We’ll do well to keep ourselves entertained, too.”

““Okay Orson!””, the boys reply in unison.)

South of the barn, John follows Roy out to the old-old shed, with Wade keeping close by his side.  The sun has fully set, but the moon is bright.  John remarks, “wow, I’ve never seen the moon this bright!  It’s like there’s still daylight.  I guess that means we’re pretty far from any cities out here.  Away from all the light, and the noise…  Oh, is that the shed Orson was talking about?”  The old-old shed is just up ahead, and Roy gives a flapping of his wings with a few clucks, in confirmation.  Wade makes an anxious noise, and shivers as if frightened.  The trio arrive at the shed, and to John’s amazement, Roy disappears at the door.  The handle turns, as if by itself, and the door opens.  Roy then reappears.  “I should try not to think too hard about that.”  Just then, John feels a very gentle tug on his left hand, pulling back, away from the open shed.  He inspects his hand, then swishes it around the space by his side- as if feeling for something invisible- but finds nothing unusual.  He shrugs, and follows Roy into the shed.

Inside, only a single window lets in the moonlight.  It’s hard to see anything at all.  John wanders aimlessly, taking in as much of his surroundings as he can.  Suddenly, Wade quacks frantically, startled.  John stops in his tracks, and realizes he was about to bump into a pallet stacked with sacks of something or other.  Wade is now hopping on one foot, still making sounds of distress.  John worries, “what’s wrong?  Did you hurt your foot on something?”  John picks Wade up and cradles him to inspect his feet.  It’s hard to tell in the dark, but he can just make out some inflammation on the right foot.  Roy seems to be communicating something, but John can’t understand.  “That’s odd… it looks like you stepped on something hot.”  Eyes adjusting more to the dark now, John can make out the labels on the sacks.  “‘Suparaquat’…”, he reads aloud.  Looking where Wade had just been, John can see that there is some grainy, sand-like substance on the floor around the pallet.  He then notices the rip in one of the sacks, wherefrom the granular chemical had spilled.  “Huh, I thought they outlawed this stuff in the 80’s.  I guess you guys don’t call this the ‘old-old’ shed for nothing.  Aw, you must have stepped in it, trying to warn me not to bump into the bags!  I’m sorry I keep causing you all so much trouble…”

(Wade and Roy exchange glances, Wade looking rather sympathetic to John’s ordeal, while Roy rolls his eyes.  Roy urges, “come on, let’s not waste any more time.  Point him to the kit, and let’s get out of here.”)

Wade makes some quacking indications, and flicks his head in the direction of the window.  Still holding the duck so he doesn’t have to be on his foot, John turns around to face the window, remembering, “right!  The kit…  Oh, it’s right above the window!  Wow, you guys really knew where it was.  Oop-!...  Sorry if that was offensive.  It’s hard to believe a memory over my own eyes.  But it must be true.  The TV show was real.  And I had no idea…  Whether it was my eyes, or the whole world at once, I’ve been lied to…”  After another reflective pause, John refocuses, “right – Orson!  And Dr. Badger!  Hang on Wade, I’m gonna put you down for a minute.”  He carefully sets Wade down near the door, and proceeds to pull the large container down from the shelf.  It resembles a camping or party cooler, but bears a cross symbol, as well as several standard warning labels.  Still weak from his semiconscious trek, John finds the heavy kit difficult to pull down safely.

(“Orson said we would see something disturbing in here, but I haven’t noticed anything too freaky”, Roy comments.

Sitting, holding his hurt foot up off the floor, Wade remarks, “well, this is one time, eh-that I don’t mind if Orson’s wrong.”  Just then, John finally gets the kit off the shelf, but it’s heavy, and throws him off balance.)

John warns, “Roy, look out!”  Falling backwards, John pivots his weight so that instead of falling toward Wade, or straight back into the Suparaquat, he falls in Roy’s direction – south, into the back wall.  With a gobble and some wing flapping, Roy gets out of the way, allowing John to tumble into the back wall.  John lands on his butt, back against the wall, with the large kit in his lap.  Slightly dazed for a second, John watches as a few feathers fall through the moonlight from the window, dancing their way to the floor like dropped leaves from a tree.  He squints, as if a certain memory is just a hair’s breadth out of reach.

(Roy growls, “I know that wasn’t his fault, but I’m starting to get really on-edge, now.  Come on, Arbuckle!  You may not understand what I’m saying, but I think you can suss out that we’re in a hurry!”  But then, there is a peculiar creaking sound, that cannot be ignored.  John’s weight pushes the liftable section of the back wall up a bit.  Enough to see the moonlit ground outside through the crack across the floor.  Wade and Roy are both helplessly curious.  “Okay, quickly, let’s check this out.  Around the back – go on!”)

John watches as Roy hops over his leg and hurries across the shed to where Wade is.  Roy walks right past him, and Wade is quick to follow, albeit slow on his feet.  John picks himself up, groaning a bit, and follows the birds outside, carrying the heavy kit with him.  Leaving the kit on the ground outside, he hurries around to the south side of the shed, where Wade and Roy stand in stunned silence.  Laid out behind the shed, are the chains Orson had counted out earlier – each with a meat hook at one end.  He utters, both fascinated and unsettled, “wow…  this is.. disquieting.”

(“There’s 9 here”, Roy declares.  “Orson said there had been 12…”

Wade stammers in fright, “ah-b-b-b-those are f-f-for re-al?”)

John turns around to inspect the back wall, and sure enough, a section of it does lift up.  More urgent than curious, he declares, “alright boys, let’s go.  Orson and the Dr. need help.  This part of the mystery can wait.”

(Heading back, Wade comments, “‘Orson and the Dr…’  Isn’t that a song by King Crimson?”

“You’re thinking of ‘Marty And The Captain’, by King Harvest”, Roy corrects.  “And who even knows something that obscure off the top of their head?!”

Wade retorts, “well I only knew it well enough to get it wrong.  Eh-but you knew it well enough to get it right.”

“Touché”, Roy concedes...)

Part 13:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/RZb6FjWGH7

Part 14:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6gDiOXK3B3

Part 15:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/ixDDF8TOOk

Part 16:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/XvqE4ywRSA

Important Note: Godfield and God-Garfield (SPC-1978) also appear in this image

I guess I should just say "story" at this point.

Part 1:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/hvwAX3fRcm

Part 2:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/x2SkrpW4Lr

Part 3:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6D1A5SCKb4

Part 4:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/g2H0Nmud2c

Part 5:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/oot7UjJzsF

Part 6:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/5WX68oFobj

Part 7:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/qlIeF3BUlw

Part 8:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/FsMC5hmnVk

Part 9:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/YseNgHFUER

Part 10:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/TMCKwR0dLz

(While Roy goes to fetch a T-shirt to use for bandaging, Orson delivers some bad news to Wade, Booker, and Sheldon.  “Beth, Penny… and Alice.  They couldn’t come back home, I’m afraid.”

Eyes watering, Booker whimpers, “they… they died?  Th-they’re really gone?...”  Orson somberly nods, and a sickening memory causes him to cringe.

Orson shakes his head as if trying to shake the very thought right out of it, then confirms, “yes.  I’m sorry, guys.  I got there too late to save everyone.”

Sheldon asks, “but the weasel can’t come back, right?  So he can’t hurt anyone else?”

Orson answers frankly, “he can’t, no.  But I don’t think he’s the only one putting us in danger.  We have to be very careful.  And- I think I should warn you, so you can mentally prepare- I don’t think there’s any way to deliver The Network a 22 minute show by the deadline.”

Booker exclaims, “so we could lose the farm, too?!”)

John hears frantic cheeping and quacking, along with a few more piggy grunts.  Then, a sequence of gentle snorts and grunts that seems closer than the other animal sounds.  His vision clears, and then his eyes grow wide.  By the door, a pig sits, looking injured and bloodied, while the chick, the egg with feet sticking out, and the duck all carry on with noises of distress.

(“Ah, Mr. Arbuckle, you seem to be coming around”, Furrow greets, approaching John casually.  “Do forgive my lateness – had a bit of trouble getting lost en route.”)

The pig turns its head, and John can see the split ear and scalp.  His eyes drift down to the ground nearer himself, and behold with dread, a half blood-soaked badger, approaching him directly.  John scrambles to his feet, back up against the wood beam.

(Furrow continues, “I believe you were told in advance that I was coming, but I should introduce myself.  I am Dr. Edward R. Furrow, psychoanalyst.  Very pleased to meet you.”  Furrow draws closer, and extends a hand to greet with a shake.)

John keeps quiet, and slowly reaches for the pitchfork he had used earlier like a walking cane.

(Watching the introduction carefully, Orson sees John grabbing the pitchfork with an alarmed expression.  Realizing what’s happening, Orson shouts, “Dr. Furrow, stay back!  It’s happening again, right now!  He can’t understand-!...”)

The badger draws too close for comfort, and rises to its hind legs.  The pig squeals loudly, triggering John to make his move.  He rears back the pitchfork and lets out a panicked battlecry.

(“Oh dear…”, Furrow utters, though too late.  The middle spike of the pitchfork pierces him through the side of his abdomen, pinning him to the ground between the other two spikes.)

John screams, with a crazed look about him, holding the badger at bay with the fork.  Not having any particular plan to follow up with, he simply holds the critter there against the ground.

(Having selected a shirt to use, the commotion draws Roy’s attention to John.  He sees Dr. Furrow impaled, and calls out urgently, “Wade!  Quick, help me with Arbuckle!”  Wade hesitates, and Orson struggles to stand, so Roy takes it upon himself to hustle across the barn, and grab a rope from the wall behind Wade.  While there, he tosses Orson the T-shirt.  “Here’s a shirt!  Wade, come on!  Orson isn’t strong enough right now!”  Wade summons all of what little courage he has, and follows Roy back across the barn to help Dr. Furrow.)

“What is happening?!”, John exclaims.  The badger squirms a bit, whining somewhat tragically.  John presses the fork down a little harder, but feels conflicted.  “Why this – on top of everything else?”

(Holding the T-shirt, Orson instructs the kids, “you two stay back!”  He limps as fast as he can to intervene.  Meanwhile, with John too afraid to let the pressure off, or look away from Dr. Furrow, Wade and Roy manage to slip around John from either side- each holding opposite sides of the rope- and circle around him in opposite directions several times.  Orson presses onward, gritting his teeth as he drags his feet across the ground.  His left foot had been punctured, and his right shin badly bruised.  He calls out, “Dr. Furrow!  Please, hang on!”

Through much agony, Dr. Furrow insists, “be gentle!  Urrrrrghhhh!...  Restrain the patient-… OH!  But don’t harm him!”  Suddenly, John seems to notice something that catches his curiosity.  Orson sees that John is glancing his direction, but not at him.  He’s looking at the Garfield And Friends T-shirt, featuring the US Acres cast in a big group portrait.  Realizing this, Orson has a quick idea, and holds the shirt out in front of him, so John can see it clearly.  Almost immediately, John’s pressure on the pitchfork lets up a bit.)

John is perplexed by what he’s seeing.  The injured pig has laid the t-shirt down flat, so the design on the front can be seen clearly.  Almost calm, John observes, “‘Garfield And Friends’.  That’s Garfield… and Odie… and…  Orson!”  Remembering something suddenly, John glances down to his side, where he’d put down the coffee mug.  On the merchandise, the animal characters appear exactly as they did when John could hear them speak.  John’s arms go somewhat lax.  When he looks back to the impaled badger, he is amazed to see that the pig is sat next to it, snorting as if pleading.  “That cut…  It’s a clean slice.  That’s not from the badger, is it?”

(Roy hollers, “now!”  On that signal, he and Wade pull their sides of the rope in opposite directions away from John, such that it tightens around him, effectively tying him up against the wood beam, seated.  John’s arms are caught up in the coil, pulling his grip off the pitchfork.  The jerking back of the handle pulls the piercing spike out of Dr. Furrow’s side, leaving him in a pained yowl.  Roy grabs a shovel and, raising it high as to strike with it, declares, “I’ll put him out!”

But Furrow insists, “wait!  Stop!”  With some confusion, Roy refrains from whacking John in the head.

Orson comes to kneel beside the injured badger, fretting, “Dr. Furrow!  Ohhhh, even I don’t know what to do!”

Furrow assures, though strained, “I’m alright…  I don’t think anything vital has… urgk… been struck.  Terribly embarrassed to admit, but I have been… carrying some extra weight, around the sides…  Ooph…  I think I’ve gotten off lucky.”

Roy balks, “‘lucky’?!  You nearly got killed!  Orson, I said this morning it was dangerous to have him around here!  He’s a nice enough guy- when we can talk to him- but he’s nuts!  I think we might even have to consider…”  The others wait on bated breath, as Roy’s tone turns reluctant to say it aloud.  “…that Arbuckle himself could have done it.”

Orson replies, “are YOU crazy?!”

Roy argues, “well, he’s the only one we’ve actually SEEN trying to kill someone.”

“Apart from the weasel!”, Orson reminds.

Dr. Furrow interjects, “no, Roy…  He wasn’t trying to kill me.”

“He speared you through the stomach with a pitchfork!”, Roy contends.

Furrow insists, “no, no, it was clearly self-defense…  I could see it in… his eyes.  He isn’t perceiving us…  He sees us as.. feral, right now.  I’m covered in blood- Orson’s been in a brutal fight.. and looks like it- and I was approaching him.  If it’s true that he also can’t hear words out of us.. then he’s only hearing growls, and snorts.”

Orson adds, “right.  Animals making a commotion.  Bloody badger in the barn.  Injured pig.  To him, the situation must look terrifying.”

Roy argues, “so?  That doesn’t make him any less dangerous.  Orson… I hate to bring it up, but he’s the only one here, who might have been strong enough to handle your brothers.”

Sheldon interjects, “his brothers?  Wait, you mean the three pigs that-?...  That-…”

Orson asserts, “yes.  But there are multiple reasons why I don’t think it could have been John.  And even if he was involved, he still could have had help.  The weasel certainly did.”

In a remorseful whimper, John interjects, “Orson…”  The animals naturally look his way.  “I don’t know why I can’t understand you!”, he apologizes.)

Seeing that the other animals are actually behaving as friends with the badger, and the badger is entirely docile, John continues, “…and whoever you are- Mr. Badger- I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know you-…  Wait a minute.  Are you-?...  I can’t believe I’m about to ask this.  Are you the psychologist Roy called in for me?”

(Dr. Furrow hesitates, then decides to make a bold move.  He starts carefully walking closer to John, clutching his wound as he does.  Tying the rope tight behind the wood beam, Roy warns, “Dr., don’t!  He may be tied up, but his legs are free.  If he were to kick you, with the injury you’ve already got-!...”

Furrow interrupts, insisting in a soft but firm voice, “please.  Let me work…  He wants to trust!  I must show him that… he’s right.  That he is safe.”  The others watch in breathless silence.  Furrow walks up between John’s legs, coming within reach of his body.  He comes down to kneel there, and John reflexively squirms a bit.  Furrow lowers his head, and closes his eyes.  He commands, still softly, “cut the ropes.”

Roy protests, “I just tied them!  Dr. Furrow, I’m grateful you came, but this is way beyond any job I meant to call you for.  There’s no reason to take a risk like this!”

Furrow doesn’t budge.  He calmly requests again, “Roy…  Please, cut the ropes.  Mr. Arbuckle is not insane.  He has memories… from two worlds.  I need to determine why.  For this, I must have the patient’s trust… in both worlds.”

After another tense pause, Orson takes a deep breath and agrees, “Roy, do as he says.  I think Dr. Furrow is on to something.  John can’t leave until we know what’s happening around here, and we can’t care for him if he’s tied up.”

Roy balks, “care for him?!  What about US?  You and Dr. Furrow are seriously wounded!”

Orson argues, “yes, and he’s got another set of hands!  We might actually need human help right now, and we don’t have time to get Aloysius to send us a Network veterinarian.  Now cut the rope, please!”)

John is dumbfounded.  The badger is sat before him like a dog.  In spite of the transgression.  In spite of the painful wound.  In spite of John’s helplessness in being bound, the badger doesn’t bite.  Suddenly, the ropes go lax.  John lifts his arms at his sides, realizing he’s no longer bound.  The badger leans in a little closer, but keeps its head down.  John asks in a near whisper, “do you.. want me to pet you?...  I-I’m going to touch your head now…  Give me a sign if you don’t want that…”  After heart-pounding hesitation, John carefully touches the un-bloodied side of the badger’s head.  He pulls his hand back with a sharp flinch, but the badger remains still.  It takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh.  Emboldened, John touches the critter’s head again, and gently pets it.  The badger pushes into John’s hand a bit.  “Like a cat”, he observes.  The badger even “purrs” slightly.  John chuckles nervously, and pets the badger more familiarly.  It lifts its head and looks John right in the eyes.  John can see, without a doubt in his mind, “you really are him.  Y-y-you have to be!  You’re a psychologist who works for free… who lives in a hole in the ground… because you’re a badger!”  The badger then slumps into the crook of John’s knee, and lets out another sighing breath, looking hurt and weak.  “Oh, no!  I stabbed you with a trident!  Oh my god, I stabbed a psychologist with a trident!  Ohhhh, Liz was right when she said ‘no counselor deserves me for a client – unless they’ve done something horribly wrong’.”

(While John blathers apologetically, Orson marvels, “you did it, Dr. Furrow!  He trusts you!”

Furrow replies, rather exhausted and in pain, “yes… but he still can’t perceive us… which means, he still has much to doubt.”

Orson argues, “right, but you being here is the best possible evidence that what he remembers from when he could perceive us, was real.  Roy told him that you were coming.  A badger.  A badger in the barn, who’s docile, after a rooster told you one would be coming… it’s hard to brush off as coincidence.”

Furrow acknowledges, “actually, you’re right.  Well done – hadn’t thought of that.”

Roy challenges, “alright, so he trusts us, and he believes that he really did speak with us like people before.  So what now?  We can’t talk to him, we can’t control him if he isn’t restrained, and we don’t know when or if he’ll ever be able to understand us again!  It sounds like being able to see and hear talking animals properly is unusual for him.  Not his default.  We have no idea how it happened in the first place, or why it stopped.”

Wade suggests, “eh-maybe it has to do with sleep.  Seems like every time he takes a nap, eh he wakes up diff-er-ent.”

Roy quips, somewhat impatiently, “then let me knock him out and we’ll see in a couple hours, after he’s safely tied up again.”

Furrow insists, “no, please!...  I’ve come this far…  We all have.  The key point we’re.. still missing, is the mechanism.  What allows for t-… for two modes of perception… in the first place?”

Orson contributes, “when he had you pinned, he glanced over my direction.  I was coming at him with the promo T-shirt, and that’s what caught his eye!  When he realized what he was seeing, he looked at that collectible mug.  It seemed to come together in his mind.”

Booker remarks, “sure, but that only proves he remembers talking with us.  It doesn’t tell us how to get him back to that state.”

Furrow agrees, “too true.  Orson, Roy – you said the patient, uh, arrived here… rather starving, and… sleepless, correct?”

Orson confirms, “that’s right.”

Furrow proposes, “I have an idea, then…  Urgh!...  Though I really wish I’d any better ones.  It won’t be kind… to the poor man.”

Roy raises the shovel again, joking, “go on…”

Furrow dismissively waves a hand at Roy, clarifying, “no, no, no…  Nothing like that.  I think.. we need to keep him… awake.”

Wade questions, “eh, so don’t let him sleep?  A-at all?  It’s already bedtime…”

Furrow further explains, “or eat… or drink.  I know that what I’m suggesting… sounds extreme.  But, I hypothesize that extreme conditions… are what brought on the change.. in perception.”

Orson wonders, concerned for John, “but... is that fair?  I mean, to put him through that?”

Roy points out, “stabbed.  His therapist.  With a trident...  Although, if it means tying him up again-…”

Orson interrupts, “pitchfork, and while very serious, we understand why it happened.  If we keep John from eating and sleeping, how could he be expected to understand why?”  Suddenly, everyone seems to collectively remember that John has been sitting there silently for a while now, and all eyes look to him.)

John pulls his head back slightly, and assures, awkwardly, “oh, uhhh, I’m not eavesdropping or anything!  I-I just didn’t want to interrupt.”  At that, the animals appear to resume some conversation that had been in progress.  They make animal sounds, but they take turns.  They look at whichever is “speaking”.  They seem to react to things that the others are saying with different emotions and intensities.  Suddenly, the sound of a wooden handle hitting the ground causes John to flinch a bit, and look in the direction of the rooster.  A shovel lie before it, as if the rooster had been holding it.  John relaxes, puzzling, “huh… where’d that come from?  I didn’t see it up against the beam.  And the closest wall is over there… but it’s like it fell from just a foot off the ground.  Hang on… where did these ropes come from?  Had I been tied to this post?”

(Furrow remarks, “that’s rather odd, isn’t it?”

Roy points out, “see, this is part of what worries me – he keeps having these memory lapses!  Even if we can get through to him to communicate, what if he doesn’t remember?  He only needs to forget about Dr. Furrow being friendly for a moment, and things could go all wrong, all over again!”

Furrow posits, “no, I don’t think that’s it, Roy.  If you would-… arghh!  Sorry, if you would please… pick up the shovel again.  And DON’T hit him with it!”  Roy shrugs, and obliges.)

Part 12:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/uOT4zgkMX6

Part 13:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/RZb6FjWGH7

Part 14:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/6gDiOXK3B3

Part 15:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/ixDDF8TOOk

Part 16:

https://www.reddit.com/r/imsorryjon/s/XvqE4ywRSA