Chapter Text
The neon lights of Las Nevadas painted the desert night in hues of electric blue and vibrant purple, a stark contrast to the endless darkness beyond the city's borders. Inside the grand casino, Quackity stood behind the bar, wiping down a freshly cleaned glass with practiced precision. The establishment was his pride, his empire, his ticket to becoming the most powerful figure on the server. Every detail had been meticulously planned, every security measure double-checked.
Or so he thought.
A faint scratching sound caught his attention, barely audible over the distant chimes of slot machines. Quackity froze, tilting his head to listen better. There it was again—a soft, rhythmic scraping from within the walls of his restaurant. His brow furrowed as he placed the glass down, his fingers hovering near the diamond-encrusted knife he kept concealed beneath the counter.
"Who's there?" he called out, his voice sharp and demanding.
Only silence answered him.
With deliberate movements, Quackity moved from behind the bar, his expensive shoes making no sound on the polished floor. He approached the source of the noise, running his hand along the ornate wallpaper until he found a slight irregularity. A panel, barely distinguishable from the rest of the wall, seemed to be vibrating ever so slightly.
A slow grin spread across Quackity's face. "Well now," he murmured to himself, "it seems we have an uninvited guest."
Without warning, he slammed his fist against the panel. The wall splintered inward, revealing a dark cavity within. A figure tumbled out with a yelp, landing in a heap on the floor. Before Quackity could get a proper look at the intruder, he lunged forward, striking them hard across the back of the head. The body went limp.
"Can't have spies in my establishment," Quackity muttered, dragging the unconscious figure through a side door and into the cool night air. He made his way to a secluded spot behind the casino, where a freshly dug hole waited—originally intended for an unfortunate debtor who had failed to pay up.
With a grunt of effort, he unceremoniously dropped the body into the hole before covering it with just enough dirt to obscure the figure from view, leaving their head exposed. Taking a seat on a nearby stone, Quackity patiently waited for his captive to awaken.
Hours passed before the figure began to stir. A groan escaped their lips as their eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light. Quackity stood, towering over the hole with his arms crossed.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," he said, his tone devoid of warmth. "Now, let's have a little chat, shall we?"
The figure—boy, really—looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. His hair was an unnaturally bright green, and his skin had a peculiar sheen to it, almost as if he were coated in something slimy.
"Where... where am I?" the boy asked, attempting to sit up but finding himself constrained by the dirt.
"You're in a hole behind my casino," Quackity replied simply. "And you're going to tell me exactly what you were doing hiding in my walls, and everything you've heard or seen since you've been there."
The boy's expression shifted to one of confusion. "Your walls? Oh! I was just exploring! The acoustics in there are really good for listening."
Quackity's eyes narrowed. "Listening to what, exactly?"
"Well," the boy began, seemingly oblivious to the danger of his situation, "I heard you talking about your gambling problems. And about how you wanted to destroy a purple guy's UFO. That was a pretty interesting conversation!"
Quackity's blood ran cold. This intruder knew things—things he shouldn't know, things that could jeopardize his entire operation.
"Anything else?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.
"Oh, lots!" the boy chirped happily. "I've seen Foolish come by a few times—really nice guy, builds amazing things. And there was this green guy who looked kind of familiar, and another guy in a red shirt who seemed really nervous about something. Oh, and there was someone who was definitely dead at first but then wasn't anymore! That was confusing to watch."
Quackity's hand instinctively moved to the knife at his belt. This creature knew too much—about his personal struggles, his plans against Purpled, about the comings and goings of key players on the server. He couldn't risk such information getting out.
"Before I decide what to do with you," Quackity said, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper, "tell me what you are."
The boy's face lit up with a grin. "I'm human! Definitely, 100% human. Just like you!"
Quackity raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? You don't look particularly human to me."
"That's just my natural complexion!" the boy insisted. "Some people just have... shinier skin than others. And the hair is natural too! Very fashionable, if I do say so myself."
As the boy continued his unconvincing defense of his humanity, Quackity considered his options. Killing this strange creature would be the safest route, eliminating any potential threat to his plans. But then again... someone who could move undetected through walls, who had already proven to be an excellent observer... that could be useful.
A slow grin spread across Quackity's face as a new idea formed in his mind. "You know," he said, "I was just about to dispose of you, but I've had a change of heart."
The boy's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Yes," Quackity confirmed. "See, I could use someone with your particular skills. Someone who can go places unseen, who can listen in on conversations without being noticed. What do you say we become friends?"
To Quackity's surprise, the boy's face broke into a wide, genuine smile. "Friends? Really? That would be amazing! I've never really had friends before!"
"Great," Quackity said, reaching down to help the boy out of the hole. "First things first, though. What's your name?"
"Slimecicle!" the boy announced cheerfully, shaking dirt from his clothes. "But you can just call me Slime!"
"Alright, Slime," Quackity said, clapping him on the back. "Welcome to Las Nevadas. You and I are going to do great things together."
As they walked back toward the bright lights of the casino, Slime chattering happily beside him, Quackity couldn't help but feel he'd made the right decision. This strange, slime-covered creature might just be the key to securing his position as the most powerful player on the Dream SMP.
And if Slimecicle ever outlived his usefulness? Well, Quackity always kept that hole ready for just such an occasion.