Sidney had never been to this part of Wasteland before – Oswald and Mickey had only ever taken her to ‘safe’ places, in order to help her regain her memories. She asked Oswald what was behind the big gate in OsTown before, but he’d just told her that it wasn’t important.

But Sidney was curious, and after a little pleading and fast-talking animatronic Goofy… the gate was open, and she dove inside the projector before anyone could stop her. As it turned out, Oswald’s definition of ‘not important’ was apparently a mountain. Made of Mickey stuff?

Dodging the pools of thinner, Sidney made her way to the top. “I bet I can see all of Wasteland from up here,” she giggled. Maybe that would job her memories.

She was expecting a great view – she wasn’t expecting anyone else up here. A someone else who didn’t look anything like any other cartoon she’d seen in the Wasteland before, “Oh! I – um – I’m sorry I didn’t know there was anyone else here!”


How long had it been since someone actually came to see him? He couldn’t even begin to say, for he didn’t even remember. All he knew was that it was definitely a long time ago. Normally when toons would come through the area they would only be after the projection screen that led to Ostown. None were ever there to see him.

The only people who kept him from flooding the place with his tears were his various Small World Dolls, who all took up residence within the ride. They would travel outside sometimes to see him, and it always made him so happy.

However, this toon looked different. Unfamiliar to him. The old clock tower squinted his eyes at the other, an arm coming out from the right side, the glasses upon his face being pinched between his index finger and thumb.

“Pardon me, but who might you be? I don’t remember ever seeing you around here before.”

[M!A] Unseen and Unheard (Blot)

Continued from here:


After emerging from his house in Ostown, Oswald had tried calling out for help, but it seemed no one could hear him. In a panic, he ran all the way to Mean Street, desperately hoping to find a solution. He didn’t bother avoiding the townsfolk as he hurried through the street, figuring he’d phase right through them, until suddenly, he bumped against one of them. He stopped abruptly, his eyes going wide as he watched the toon get startled and look around in bewilderment. He could touch people! With this sudden realization, he quickly began tapping people on the shoulder, trying to communicate with them, but they all either ran off in terror, or hastened their pace, muttering under their breath about ‘escaped Bog Easy ghosts’.

Dismayed by the reactions he received, Oswald desperately looked around for someone he knew well, or at least someone who would stop and listen…er, feel. Upon turning the corner, he spotted a familiar large figure in the middle of the street.

“Blot!” he cried out in relief, even though he knew he wouldn’t be heard. He ran up to the creature and began poking his leg over and over again, trying to get his attention.

A Leader’s Uncertainty


Continued from here (x), here (x), and here (x).

It wasn’t long before the Gremlin found himself in OsTown. He hesitated for a moment, considering how upset Oswald might be if he was wrong; then again, even if he wasn’t the one sending those notes, Gus figured he would still want to know that someone was asking about whether people thought he was fit to lead. Brushing his doubts aside, Gus knocked on the door and waited.