Just Going To Rant About Something I Think I Noticed In The New Season, I Am Very Very Sleepy So This

Revisiting the Scratchansniff-Warners relationship, Part 2: The positives, where it all went wrong, and what it all means

Welcome to part 2 of part 4 of Overanalyzing the Warners. Here's a link to part 1.

In the first part, I focused on Scratchansniff as a character and why he was a terrible fit as the Warners' psychiatrist. In this part, I'll look at the other side of it: the almost fatherly relationship he developed with them over time, and how it all suddenly came crashing down.

Warning: This post is extremely long. I've said previous posts of mine were long, but this is several times longer than those- it's 4576 words. You may want to set aside some time for this or break it up into parts to read at different times.

I've talked about this topic in great length, and this post is meant to be the culmination of all of it. So, in addition to reading part 1 of this 2 part analysis, I would encourage you to read my other two important posts about Scratchansniff and his relationship with the Warners:

In this post, I did an episode-by-episode analysis of Scratchansniff's relationship with the Warners and marveled about how it all went wrong.

In this post, I went in-depth in analyzing Episode 5 of the original series, "Taming of the Screwy", taking a look at a pivotal point in the Warners' character development and their relationship with their p-sychiatrist.

In general, Scratchansniff's relationship with the Warners can be broken down into three phases.

Phase 1: Episodes 1-53 of the original series. Scratchansniff first establishes a relationship with the Warners and they get to know each other better in an up-and-down process where they sometimes act as allies and sometimes as foes.

Phase 2: Episodes 65-82 of the original series. Having warmed up greatly to the Warners, Scratchansniff becomes somewhat of a father figure to them, taking them out on trips and having almost entirely positive encounters with them overall.

Phase 3: Episode 87 of the original series and everything since. The relationship suddenly and inexplicably goes downhill, with the Warners and Scratchansniff mutually seeming to not like each other much at all. This continues into the reboot, with Scratchansniff acting antagonistic to the Warners and the Warners seeming unenthusiastic in their helping of him in season 1. In season 2, the Warners seem to trust him as a father figure again, but he's only pretending to like them in what is actually part of a scheme to get his stuff back.

Phase 1 is what I've already covered most extensively, so I won't talk about it as much in this post. Besides the two episodes that I already covered in-depth, Episodes 1 and 5, there isn't much of great impact to discuss here. The Warners have their usual hijinks. Sometimes they interact positively with Scratchansniff, such as when they get him a present for his birthday seemingly unprompted, and other times they pester him unnecessarily, such as when they ruin his date in Episode 53, "Drive Insane".

It can't really be said that Scratchansniff is the bad guy in any of these interactions. I mean, the guy was just trying to have a good date, and, even though the Warners arguably improved it, never really did anything to deserve them showing up and deliberately trying to ruin everything. Well, he didn't do anything in that episode to deserve it. This still does take place after he betrayed their trust in Taming of the Screwy, so it makes sense why the Warners would be antagonistic to him sometimes. I would describe this phase overall as the "rebuilding trust" phase. Scratchansniff blew his chance to meaningfully help the Warners in a therapeutic sense, but that doesn't mean his relationship with them is forever dead. Quite the opposite.

Phase 2 begins in Episode 65, the Warners' 65th Anniversary Special. While that episode is packed with Warners lore items, the only thing relevant to this topic is how Scratchansniff chaperones them at the event. This is the first instance of him acting fatherly to them.

Episodes 69, 71, 79, and 82 show the same. In 69, he takes them out to the carnival. In 71, Wakko approaches him because he wants to participate in his bingo game, which no one else attended. It could be argued either that Wakko just really wanted to spend time with Scratchansniff or that this was his subtle way of making the doctor feel better about no one attending his bingo game, or both. In any case, it's clear that Wakko genuinely likes being around Scratchansniff by this point. In 79, the Warners invite Scratchansniff to their party, and he both shows up and has a decent time. In 82, he takes them out for another trip and has a great time singing Wakko's two-note song.

Now, hold on a minute. Where did all of this come from? Why are the Warners and Scratchansniff suddenly all buddy-buddy, after spending half the series antagonizing each other? How did Scratchansniff regain their trust even after betraying them? I think it might be rather simple. The Warners took a liking to Scratchansniff simply because they were able to spend a lot of time with him, and he didn't always completely hate their guts while they did so.

That's sad, isn't it? It's a really low bar to friendship. By all normal metrics of trust, Scratchansniff never did a single thing to deserve the Warners' admiration. But you have to look at what the Warners have been through. From the moment of their creation, everyone around them hated them with a burning passion. Their creator went crazy in the process. Their main director, Weed Memlo, despised them from the start. Plotz and other studio leadership always saw them as a nuisance at best and a cataclysmic, terrifying force of nature at worst. Their co-star Buddy hated them so much he tried to kill them 65 years later. People literally screamed and fled at the mere sight of them on the lot. This was years before the creation of other famous toons like Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck who might have been their allies. They had literally not one person to trust or like or have any sort of positive relationship with, except each other.

All the while, they seem somewhat oblivious to this total mistreatment, because it's the only thing they've ever known. In their childlike naivety, they thought this was just how it was supposed to go. They thought that the people who clearly hated and feared them actually liked them, because they never saw any example of a person who truly did. This explains a lot of their behavior then and later on. They pester everyone, including those they like, because they think it's an expression of fondness. If the Warners truly dislike someone, they just avoid them. And it takes a lot to get the Warners to truly dislike someone. Even people who they legitimately should dislike, who were never anything but mean to them like Plotz, they still eventually take a liking to.

So then they meet someone like Scratchansniff, who still dislikes them but doesn't outright hate them or flee when he sees them, because his job forces him to interact with them. Compared to everyone else the Warners have ever met, well, he's a saint! Of course they would take a liking to him. A similar process happened to Scratchansniff on the other end. Forced to interact with them often because of his job, he eventually became familiar with them. Scratchansniff is quite a lonely guy as well. He doesn't seem to have any family or friends, and even his dates dislike him. By being around the Warners, he came to realize that they were good kids at heart, as much as he didn't want to admit it to himself. This is when he embraced them on his end of things, and that's when he became a father figure. He couldn't commit completely, though. Deep down, he became aware of the inequities that molded the Warners into what they were. However, surrounded by people who didn't, and still being a stubborn old man, he knew that if he admitted to himself the awful treatment the Warners had always received, he would come to despise himself for his part in it. So, he didn't admit it fully. But he still felt bad for them, and that's why I believe he did things such as take them out to the carnival, for no reason other than to make them happy. It can also be noted that Scratchansniff takes them out for his own enjoyment- he takes them to a wrestling show, something that he is very passionate about but the Warners don't like. They're so embarrassed to be there that they put bags over their heads, but they still went. The Warners are Scratchansniff's only real friends that he can take with him to events he enjoys.

On that note, this is another important reason I believe the Warners formed such a bond with Scratchansniff. In all the phase 2 episodes, you can see one thing being consistently implied: the only time the Warners are officially allowed off the lot is when they're accompanied by Scratchansniff.

In other words, Scratchansniff is their only legitimate ticket to freedom. Now, why would it matter to them whether they can get off the lot legitimately or not? They do it all the time regardless. That's exactly the point, and how I inferred something critical about the Warners' characters: they want to be officially included. During the events of the series, they are able to consistently escape the tower and go absolutely anywhere they want whenever they want. Despite this, every single time there's an opportunity afforded to them to do things the right way and be included without breaking the rules, they take it. The only way this would make sense is if they have a personal desire to be able to do things without breaking the rules, and the only reason they do break the rules so often is because there are almost no situations where they're included within the rules. All that to say- being able to go off the lot without being relentlessly chased is important to them, and the only way they can do that is if they go with Scratchansniff.

The point is, the relationship between Scratchansniff and the Warners was forged from unwilling familiarity. The Warners have almost no friends, Scratchansniff has almost no friends, and so, when they're forced to spend a lot of time around each other, they naturally become fond. Wow, that was a much more concise way of stating everything I wrote in the massive block of text above.

What is the relationship actually, really like at this point? Do the Warners regard Scratchansniff as a true father figure? Does he look at them almost like his kids? I've always hesitated to call him a true father figure to the Warners because of how large a part he played in their unfair treatment by the studio, even during Phase 2. How can a man who truly loves them not do more to break them out of that horrible cycle of abuse?

On a meta level, though, that is the part Scratchansniff is meant to play. He's inserted as a parental figure in episodes where either the Warners need to be placed in a situation more relatable to the normal kids watching the show, or when they need to show more traditional childlike traits than they usually do when they're on their own. "I'm Mad" is a great example of this. The Warners need to go on a roadtrip for the plot to work. It's a very relatable plotline for the kids watching, but the Warners would never end up in that situation without an adult father figure to take them somewhere. That's Scratchansniff.

Also in that segment, the Warners can be seen acting much more like regular siblings to each other than they usually do. Basically, when the Warners need to be portrayed more like actual kids, that's when Scratchansniff is inserted as their parental figure. But I don't think that was initially meant to imply the existence of a strong father-child bond between Scratchansniff and the Warners. When writing, the creators of the show may have been just as surprised as the characters themselves that this relationship seemed to be forming so naturally. Just like in-universe, it may truly have been a relationship formed out of circumstance.

I'd be remiss if I didn't spend at least one paragraph highlighting Wakko's especially close relationship with Scratchansniff. From the segment "Ups and Downs", which is actually in Phase 1, he seems to regard Scratchansniff as a really close friend, despite the doctor's lack of reciprocation. I think this is just due to Wakko's nature. Unlike his siblings, he isn't really out to cause any trouble or mischief. He's just kind of flowing along with the current of life. And because of his status as the wacky one, he tends to see crazy things as normal while being very fascinated with the mundane. Scratchansniff is very mundane. Wakko seemingly goes out of his way to spend alone time with Scratchansniff, such as at the bingo game. In that situation, with Wakko as the only patron at the event, Scratchansniff could have very easily closed up shop and said no to letting Wakko play. He decided to go through with it anyway. It's possible that Wakko becoming close with Scratchansniff first was the opening needed for all three Warners becoming close with him.

By the events of Episode 82, "Wakko's Two-Note Song", everything seems to be going swimmingly. The Warners like Scratchansniff and he clearly likes them. Going out on trips with each other seems to have become routine. There are no hints at any cracks in their relationship at all- if anything, it seems like it's just becoming stronger and stronger. Oh, how I wish it had just ended with this episode. Then, maybe, by the time of the reboot we'd see that the Warners have embraced Scratchansniff as their true father figure, he's officially adopted them, and they live a nice family life in a real home. It didn't end there.

Phase 3 starts with Episode 87. I'll be honest, it's a little weird to call this a "phase" at all. That's because, instead of following the logical progression it had been to this point, this is where it completely goes off the rails. It goes from a strong relationship to almost no relationship. Imagine if Wreck-it Ralph 2 had started with Ralph and Felix being at odds again, with absolutely no explanation given as to why. Imagine if Star Wars Episode 5 had started with Luke back on Tatooine living as a regular farmboy. That's what happened here. You have a very consistently followed, logical development of a relationship over 80+ episodes of a TV show, but then in Episode 87 it just all goes away.

As with all the segments and episodes I'm mentioning, I'd suggest you just go watch "Anchors-a-Warners" yourself to get what I mean. But if you need a summary, Scratchansniff tries to go on a cruise to get away from the Warners, but is horrified and legitimately terrified to see that they've followed him on board.

They do everything they can to harass him and ruin his life in the meanest ways possible, for no reason that was ever shown. Scratchansniff did nothing to deserve it. It's the Warners at their worst, written so poorly that they just straight-up seem like the antagonists. Usually they seem like kids just out to have some harmless fun. In this episode they feel malicious. There's a few poorly written episodes like that in the original series, but this one is so much worse because of who they do it to. Because of how it tanked what was previously a thriving relationship with no reason given, reversing all character development both Scratchansniff and the Warners had received over the many episodes of Animaniacs before this. It feels like a bad episode from season 1 that they inserted into season 4. In fact, it's my theory that this is exactly what it is. By this point Animaniacs was nearing the end of production, and it's known that they used some scrapped scripts from the earlier seasons to fill out the last. I think they took this one, which was rightfully rejected years earlier, and made it into an episode for season 4 without much thought.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was followed up by... well, anything. This is the last major interaction the Warners have with Scratchansniff in the original series. Wakko's Wish isn't canon, but even there they don't seem to be close with him at all. Let me reiterate that the building of the Scratchansniff-Warners relationship isn't just a piece of crazy fan headcanon. It's very obviously and deliberately built up. In Phase 1, you kind of alternate between episodes where the Warners antagonize Scratchansniff and episodes where they're more friendly with each other. In Phase 2, though, there isn't a single negative interaction between them. That's why Anchors-a-Warners is so jarring.

Fans were disappointed by Scratchansniff's portrayal in the reboot, as they wanted to see a resumption of the wholesome relationship they had been building before and not see the doctor brought back as your run-of-the-mill cartoon antagonist. I certainly share those desires, but is it really hard to understand why the reboot writers wrote it the way they did? If you watch the original series and assume that every episode happens in chronological order, that is where the relationship left off. Not as family, but as enemies. We can only hope that they redevelop it in the future to leave it on a good note in the end.

So, why do I think it was left off like that? I think it can be attributed to the rocky end of Animaniacs. The network was dissatisfied with their product, which was attracting too many adults, and was relatively expensive to produce. The number of Animaniacs staff working on the show was cut significantly in the later seasons. I think, being slowly forced out like that, Tom Ruegger and other writers probably lost passion for the story they had been trying to tell. It's a huge shame that we never got to see a real conclusion, with Scratchansniff embracing the Warners as true family. I think that's the way it was intended to end up.

In-universe, though, what happened? Are there any hints that might tell us how the relationship went sour? I think there might be one. At the end of "Wakko's Two-Note Song", Scratchansniff has embraced Wakko's way of making music and is trying to make a song by honking his car horn. Mr. Plotz hears this and remarks that "the poor guy's finally lost his noodle."

Perhaps Plotz believes that the psychiatrist spending so much time with the Warners has, instead of taming the Warners, actually made Scratchansniff insane. So, the next time he sees him, Plotz chews him out for failing to do his job and orders him to go see a psychiatrist of his own to bring him back up to level. In the midst of this humiliation, Scratchansniff became paranoid that Plotz was actually right, remembering how he used to be and believing that the Warners made him insane. This caused him to try to cut off close contact with the Warners, becoming cold to them the next time they met. The Warners, hurt and confused by the sudden rejection, became angry and got their revenge by picking on Scratchansniff like the old days, only increasing Scratchansniff's bitterness towards them and sending the relationship plummeting back to how it was before. This is why they're so hostile to him in Anchors-a-Warners. None of that is rooted in canon besides the one moment I showed above. It's all speculation, but it's the best answer I can come up with.

That's the end of my in-universe speculation. I'd like to touch upon the greater societal impact that Scratchansniff may have had. Before Dr. Scratchansniff, there were no or almost no reoccurring, seriously taken psychiatrist characters in cartoons. You wouldn't see Bugs Bunny sitting on a therapy couch for anything other than a quick gag. I won't pretend like Scratchansniff's character is meant to be taken very seriously or that any of his therapeutic interactions with the Warners were much more than jokes. However, it was a long-lasting, mostly positive relationship between doctor and patient that was thoroughly explored. Imagine being a kid in the 90's who has to go to psychotherapy. You probably feel ostracized, probably bullied if anyone knows about it. Then a new super popular cartoon comes on the scene where the main characters regularly go to therapy and have a long-lasting relationship with their psychiatrist. Maybe it made it a little better.

And maybe that's what this is all about. If I were to distill Animaniacs down to one statement, I'd say it's meant to show the perspective of the little guy. It shows the world from the perspective of kids, from the perspective of pets, lab mice, the neurodivergent, the flame on a candle.

Before I started writing this post, I was under the impression I usually am with these kinds of things- everything I'm talking about is fan theory, and the creators probably didn't intend more than half of it. Fans, especially fans who look as deeply into things as I do, tend to go way overboard, finding meaning where none was ever meant to exist. I very much do not think the English teacher overanalysis of every little detail in every creative work is generally the most correct way to look at things, from the point of view of what the creator intended. I do it for fun, of course, but as an author I know that most of the most profound symbolism and hidden meanings in my works are things that were completely unintentional, that I only find after I reread them several times. That's especially true in a silly comedy cartoon like Animaniacs, right?

As I got deeper into writing this, though, I realized that there might be more there than I first thought. Mental illness, or "insanity", is a consistently reoccurring theme in this show. The first segment in the first episode starts with the Warners getting acquainted with their psychiatrist. Their psychiatrist is their closest ally and favorite enemy, the one that around 10% of the episodes in the series focus on. A psychiatry office is one of the default settings for the show.

Insanity is mentioned in the intro to every episode (totally insaney!). Before most episodes, the Warners' backstory is shown in Newsreel of the Stars. In their expanded backstory shown in certain episodes, it's revealed that their animator went insane creating them.

Everyone else, at least the adults, around the Warners call them destructive and insane, ostracizing them from society. To anyone with half a brain watching, though, it's immensely clear that the Warners aren't anything more than hyperactive children with no strong adult guidance, using the god powers they never asked for to act out for extremely understandable reasons. The show consistently shows instead that the adults around them, the stuffy business types calling them insane, are the true unstable ones. They're blinded by prejudice, trying the same thing over and over, banging their heads against the wall trying everything to solve the "issue" of the Warners, except the solution that was extremely obvious the entire time. The Warners just need someone to care for them. Even the one who's supposed to be the expert in the field of mental health can't figure out this very basic idea.

Think back on the history of how we as a society have treated mental health issues. First, hundreds of years ago, we tried to lock the crazies away in asylums. Get them away from society so they can't harm us and we don't have to think of them. Then things progressed to aggressively trying to treat these mental disorders, with lobotomies and shock therapy and every horrible thing in between. We became obsessed with trying to take the neurodivergent and make them "normal."

What happened to the Warners? First, they were locked away, separated from society. Then, they were aggressively treated with the explicit aim of making them "normal." Their psychiatrist, as I covered in part 1, probably got his degree around the 1930's or 40's, using extremely outdated tactics that inevitably would fail to give the Warners any real help. You can see the parallels.

The Warners live in a world where it's extremely clear how everyone mistreats them, yet they're always made out to be the crazy ones. Animaniacs shows it for what it really is, from the perspective of the marginalized, from the perspective of those who were driven mad by the environment they were born into. Even though the truth is extremely obvious to them, no one can ever see their side. Animaniacs is meant to show how treating mental illness with the intent of making the patient normal is nothing more than banging your head against the wall. It will never help them or you. If you truly want to get them help, then help them. Help them exist in society the best they can, and only then will you start to see some of the improvement you hoped for in the first place. Like I said in the last part- the Warners could have been tamed, but if you want to do that, taming them cannot be your primary goal.

This is one of the few things I've spoken on in my overanalysis series that I believe has a strong chance to be fully intentional. In fact, now that I've laid it out for myself, the symbolism of Animaniacs seems kind of obvious. We've grown as a society recently, getting on the path to accepting mental illness and neurodivergency for what it is instead of jumping right to ostracizing it (though there's still a ways to go). Animaniacs, on the other hand, was trying to get this in our heads 30 years ago.

Bringing this back around to the main topic, I'll say something I've said many times before- I hope the Warners get a happy ending. I hope they embrace Scratchansniff truly and he embraces them. I hope they get out of the tower for good and can live the lives they want. It doesn't have to be the focus of an episode or anything. Just, to end the reboot off, show a 30 second scene of them being happy and free. That's all I want.

And so, finally, mercifully, that's all I have to say on this topic. At least until I think of more in a year from now. The next installment in Overanalyzing the Warners will focus on the Warners themselves, specifically their sibling relationship. That won't be out for a long while, though.

If you have anything you want to add, comment on, correct, or say about this post, don't hesitate to leave a reply or send in an ask. In any case, thank you for reading all of that. It continues to surprise me how much support I receive for these insane lore ramblings about this children's comedy cartoon. Thank you.

Saiki K has this interesting sort of chill atmosphere and monotony about it. It's called "the disastrous life of Saiki K" but the disasters are often like... him not having enough pocket money for something, or having to get through a sports festival. Occasionally the disasters are him having to save the world or his brother being an actual freak, but the show treats these times almost with the same stakes and importance as everything else.

I find this really interesting because what just feels like a "vibe" at first becomes an actual plot-point later on, with Saiki rewinding the Earth every year and repeating the same stage in his life over, and over, and over again... nothing has any real consequences, it's as dull as it is funny, and while it is a comedy I feel like there is this quiet sense of horror underneath it all. The intro with the flower petals falling and then being rewound kind of illustrates this for me - Saiki constantly controls everything around him in an attempt to hold it in some kind of stagnant peace, slowly growing accustomed to the people around them but none of them truly moving forward, like everyone is being held in a dream.

I don't really know where I'm going with this, it's really hard to put into words, but does anyone get what I'm talking about? Is this coherent in any way?

Snusmumrik when restrictions signs:

ACTIOOOOOON!!!

BSD Wan Chapter 151 Scanlation

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Deepest Darkest secret :3

I still watch those gacha reaction videos. Every time I join a new fandom my first instinct is to look at those gacha reaction vids. I love them sm guysss.

"At your big age?" Yes

"In 2024?" Y E S... YES YES YES YES.

one day you wake up and realise how happy gojo was in his death and it fucks with your head so bad. he was content to have died doing what he believed was right, which was believing in his students and their capabilities. he seemed glad that he could finally join suguru in afterlife. the fact that suguru wasn't there to pat him on the back on his way out to battle saddened him, satoru's greatest regret was being left behind by suguru and he wanted to catch up as soon as he could, so he was satisfied with the fact that he did the most he could and that his job here was finally done. he was happy to be able to help even after his death.

gojo wanted to foster strong and intelligent allies who would change the jujutsu society for better, that was all he wished for and he made that happen. gojo died knowing he achieved his life goal, he died knowing it was okay for him to not be there anymore, that he could finally rest without worrying.

what i am trying to say is gojo satoru was probably more happier in his death than he would have ever been alive.

The fact that people think that Saiki is emotionless is so funny to me, because that’s the most dramatic guy you’ll ever see.

@dire-kumori has an au where Scooped Mike gets time-travelled to before CC and Liz's deaths, and he's filled with such blind rage and self-loathing upon seeing his younger self that he kills young Mike over and over again in a time loop that young Mike barely even understands. Guess who wrote a one-shot for it? (I'm also tagging @serenefig and @cloudwhisper23 bc I feel like you'll be interested in reading)

word count: 3,715

“Have fun with your friends’, brats. Don’t even think about coming back until morning unless you want to spend the night outside, ‘cause I won’t bother unlocking the doors for you.”

Cold lines of metal pressed grooves into Mike’s back as he leaned against the front door threshold and waved his siblings goodbye. His voice resounded in sharp echoes across the tree line; he spoke a bit too loud considering that his little siblings were only a few feet away, but then again, that was the point. 

You never knew what things were lurking in the shadows, listening and lying in wait for the moment they could get you alone. Sometimes, however, you could use that to your advantage.  

Michael’s gaze roved over the tree line as his siblings turned their backs on him and walked down the driveway. The trees surrounded their entire house in a near-perfect circle; shadows crept beneath the trees’ gnarled, grasping finger-like branches. As the sun slumped further down in the sky, the shadows drew steadily closer and closer to the house like a tidal wave of darkness begging to be held back no longer.

The eldest Afton’s jaw clenched as he dug his teeth into his gum with even more ferocity. Slowly, he pulled his Foxy mask from the top of his head to cover his face. 

He didn’t have to be afraid with the wicked smile and sharp teeth covering his face. It was an assurance that Michael could be strong and brave even when– no, especially when he was all on his own, just like the pirate fox he felt so much for. 

If a monster wanted to chase him down, then so be it. But as long as Mike had his mask on, the monster wasn't the only dangerous thing around.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Electricity shot through every nerve ending in Michael’s body. The jolt of adrenaline made every hair stand on end, and heat roared through his veins like wildfire as Mike crouched behind the garage wall with his fingers white-knuckled and half-numb against the cool metal of his bright red bat.

Each breath passed his lips at a crawl. Everything around him seemed to blur and fade to gray as Mike focused his entire being on the harsh slam of rubber soles coming closer and closer. 

A million ghostly aches, sharp and dull and stabbing and pressing aches of a million undeaths, all sparked to life with increasing intensity as the monster drew closer and closer, but Mike pushed away the memories of aches and pains assaulting his limbs.

He only needed to get one good shot in. 

He smelled the bastard long before it got close. It was something like the curdled cup of milk that Mike had found in his room last week, the maggot-infested animal carcasses he and his friends would poke at when they found them on the side of the road, the stank of rotten eggs– all those putrid smells and more clinging to the bastard's skin in an eye-watering stench that made Michael’s stomach churn and his throat burn on principle. 

Mike's heart hammered in his chest, almost to the same beat as the footfalls chasing him. 

There was a flurry of movement as the sicko ran past Mike where he was crouched out of sight behind the wall. 

The reaper's footfalls quickly slowed as though somehow aware that it had been duped, but Mike was already moving. 

The decaying monster didn't even have time to turn around before Mike jumped forward and slammed his bat into the back of its head. 

His years' worth of practice hitting baseballs did nothing to prepare him for the vibrations that rocketed painfully through his arms and shoulders and all the way down his back, nor for the sickening crack of a human skull shattering under his hands. 

The monster went down, but Mike could only stand there even as a voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to run. Vomit burned his throat at the curdled blood and the dark red and purple slimy skin that clung to the metal of his bat before it fell to the ground with a wet plop beside the monster. Thick droplets of the creature’s ice-cold blood dribbled down Michael’s face and smeared against the teen’s lips as he stood there in shock.

Boney claws wrapped around Mike’s ankle. The sharp pain of bone digging underneath his skin jerked Michael’s mind back to awareness, and he brought his bat down on the thing's wrist just before it had time to yank him to the ground. 

The fingers didn't let him go even after the impact of Mike’s bat ground the compact bones along the creature’s wrist into fine dust held together only by moldy stretches of tendon and skin. 

Michael brought the bat down on the thing's arm again and again and again before its other hand finally snaked around and grabbed hold of the slippery dark red metal.

Michael yanked the bat closer, cursing himself for giving the reaper a chance to rip his weapon away. But the reaper didn’t; instead, it used the momentum of Michael’s action against him.

Mike's vision went red with pain as the handle of his bat flew back at him and slammed into his lips with enough force that Mike heard his plastic mask crack on his face. 

Except Michael realized a split second later that it wasn’t just his mask that had cracked. Something sharp and coppery exploded in Mike's mouth and the teen choked on shards of his own teeth as the fractured remnants slid down the back of his throat. 

The thing's fingers were still locked around his ankle, and the moldy strands of tendon and skin keeping its bony purple hand attached to the rest of the monster's body snapped apart as Michael stumbled backward with tears in his eyes and dark red blood dribbling down his chin. He was too stunned by pain to react even as the monster peeled itself off the ground with one arm; its other, handless appendage hung limply against its side in a mess of unnatural angles kept together only by thin layers of rotting skin. 

Its neck snapped down to look at its obliterated arm, but somehow, the creature looked almost bored as its empty eye sockets focused on the mangled stretch of flesh and shattered bone attached to it. The monster’s remaining fingers latched around its broken arm before ripping the twisted limb from its shoulder with enough force that its entire body jerked at the motion. 

The shattered lower part of the arm flopped to the ground in a pile of putrid skin, and the reaper's head snapped back up and its empty eyes focused directly on Michael with its fingers still grasping the remains of its upper arm. 

"You're going to regret that,” it whispered in the grinding croak reminiscent of a bag of gravel and forks shoved down a garbage disposal. 

"M-Make me." 

Michael had wanted to sound stubborn and strong, but the words cracked in the air and passed his lips in nothing but a whimpering stammer as he tried not to gurgle on his own blood. 

He should have ran the second he had gotten a hit in on this– this stupid son of a bitch. Things were– Everything was already going so wrong. 

The creature lurched at him. Michael didn't have time to run or stumble away; he barely had time to raise his bat. 

The reaper still had the upper part of its broken arm in hand, but Michael didn't notice the sharp end of broken bone protruding from the severed arm until the jagged point had already buried itself inside Mike’s shoulder. 

Two pinpoints of light sparked to life in the monster’s eyes, and its gaping black eyes looked directly at him as Michael screamed. 

The reaper ripped its broken arm out of Michael’s shoulder and aimed for the teen's heart. 

Michael just managed to ram the end of his bat into the reaper's neck at the last second. 

It was a weak blow. The monster’s close proximity didn’t give the teen enough room to maneuver the long bat and Mike's arms and wobbly legs trembled dangerously, worsening his ability to strike. But by some miracle, it was enough to make the monster stumble a few steps back, though it grabbed onto the teen's bat and ripped it from his hands as it stumbled.

Michael didn’t fight to get the bat back. He turned on his heel and ran. 

The teen’s hands clawed at his own shoulder as the monster’s footfalls echoed behind him once more. 

Tears stung Michael’s eyes as he remembered that bloody, grimy, disgusting bone piercing into him. God only knew what kind of germs that thing had put into his system– what if the wound got infected? 

Not that an infected wound would matter if Mike didn’t keep himself alive and out of the creature’s way.

Michael forced the pain and panicked delirium away. He had to focus; this was the important part. 

The reaper was just behind him, following at a pace closer to a walk than a run. 

Somehow, that was so, so much worse. The monster didn't have to run to keep up with him, and it knew it. It would always catch him in the end, like a hunter casually strolling after the blood trail of a wounded deer. The creature would never tire nor stop chasing him, and it was just a matter of time before Mike got too tired to go on running from it.

‘No. No, no, no– not this time.’

The monster’s slower pace did make this more difficult, though. Michael couldn't move too fast. He needed to always be just out of the creature's reach, or he would risk the monster getting distracted or frustrated and trying to cut him off by going a different route.

This would have a way better chance of success if Mike could keep the monster right where he wanted it. 

Michael dashed into the house from the garage and raced up and down hallways and from room to room. As he ran, he ducked and jumped periodically to avoid tripe wires, avoided stepping on any rugs, and danced around jagged pieces of metal and nails and blades that had been embedded into the hardwood floor. 

He really couldn’t afford to mess up this part. Any wrong moves or missteps would have to be avoided at all costs. But with any luck, the monster hunting him wouldn’t be so careful. 

As he raced up the steps, he made sure to skip the fifth step down. But as he reached the top, it slowly dawned on him that things had been unusually quiet. As far as Mike was aware, the monster never seemed to react much to pain, but there was a distinct lack of surprised grunts or infuriated yells, or whirring gears and mechanical parts snapping as traps were set off. 

Chest heaving as he panted, Michael turned and looked down.

The reaper was standing right there at the bottom of the steps. It looked exactly the same as it had when Michael had fought it in the garage, like it hadn’t set off a single trap during the chaotic chase. 

Its head was tilted back, staring at the kitchen knives and heavy hooks used to hang endoskeletons that Michael had stolen and hung from the ceiling over the steps. They were hung high enough that Mike could race up and down with no problem, but the taller monster should have gotten a nasty surprise as it came after him with that single-minded focus it always seemed to have. 

Instead, the monster looked up at the trap with an annoyed expression before meeting Michael’s eye. 

Keeping its head ducked low, the reaper placed its foot on the first step. 

Michael’s heart leaped into his throat and he stumbled down the hallway, struggling to breathe properly through all the panting and the blood still flooding his mouth and throat. 

How was that thing still walking?! Mike had set death traps up in every inch of this house; it just wasn’t possible that the reaper could have stumbled through the house without setting a single one off! 

The thing on the steps was still way, way too quiet. Had it seen him skip the fifth step down?

Mike turned for a split second to see if the reaper had gotten to the top steps yet. 

A sharp pain sliced through Michael’s throat. 

That single second of distraction had been enough time to throw several hours of analyzing the layout of every trap he'd set up in this house out the window. 

The sharp feeling wrapped around his entire throat as his own momentum forced him further into the trap. The wire tightened, and suddenly Mike’s feet left the floor entirely and he slammed against the ugly red wallpaper. 

Hurricane was a small town. One where there wasn't much to do, especially when your father worked at the most interesting place in town and you had to spend nearly every day there for hours on end.

Michael and his friends had explored every nook and cranny and forgotten place there was to find in the town. Including the abandoned railroad tracks in the surrounding woods.

Those tracks were so old that the rusty spikes meant to hold them together could often be found lying on the ground around the tracks, ripe for the taking; even the ones still riveted inside the old tracks could mostly be removed with some determination, and the sharp, rusty, six-and-a-half inch long spikes were attractive prizes to a group of rowdy teens with nothing better to do. 

Michael had stored a lot of them away in his closet over time. 

Sticking the rivets through a slab of plywood and nailing the plywood plank into the wall upstairs with the sharp ends facing outward had been a lot of effort, just like a lot of the traps he had spent the entire day building, but Michael had deemed it a worthwhile venture because he had been certain those spikes would be able to do some damage. 

And Michael had been right. 

Michael had put six or seven of those spikes through the plywood, but when Mike slammed into the wall, he only felt one big blast of pain set his back on fire. He didn't even have time to scream before a gush of blood and vomit slid through his throat, staining his shattered teeth and turning his inhuman screech into a quiet gurgle. 

The wire stayed wrapped around Mike's throat and cut deeper as his feet–- suspended by the railroad spikes and wire too high for the teen to reach the ground– thrashed wildly in the air. 

Michael’s vision went black as the thrashing jostled the spikes, widening the holes in his back and sending the sharp, rusted rivets deeper into his flesh until some of them scraped against his ribcage. 

Gasping, Michael sucked in one shaky breath after another and tried to ignore the desperate need to claw himself upward. His throat and lungs were filling with liquid, but he wasn't drowning in water. There was no surface he could rise above to make it all stop. 

What a strange sensation it was to drown in your own hallway without a drop of water in sight.

Bloody fingers clawed at the wire around his throat, but he couldn't pull it away any more than he could clear his airway. 

Salty tears leaked down Michael’s face in a futile attempt to clear away the blood still staining his chin. Between one blink and the next, the red wallpaper and family picture frames in front of the teen were replaced by two hollow black eyes and putrid purple flesh flecked with varying shades of green mold that peeked out of the crusty white bandages holding its splitting skin together

The monster cocked its head at him, and Michael finally got a good view of the damage he had dealt it earlier. The side of its head had caved in like deflated basketball or a sandcastle under an oncoming tide, and yellowish-white shards of bone jutted out from the jelly-like mixture of blood and decaying muscle dripping from the cracks in its head. 

The white pinpoints of its eyes flashed up and down him curiously, watching the blood flow down Michael’s body and drip into an ever-widening pool under his feet. The thing's lips had long ago rotted away, but Michael realized as raspy, cracked laughter spilled between the thing's dried-out, wrinkled gums and bared yellow teeth that the monster was smiling at him.

"You bastard!" More blood dribbled down Michael’s chin and gurgled inside his throat. Mike tried to spit it all out like this was nothing more than his morning mouthwash routine. "You bastard!" 

Floorboards moaned under the reaper's feet as it took another step closer. Michael flinched as it did so, and immediately bit back a cry at the white-hot pain of spikes shifting inside his back and scraping against bone and organs.

"That looks like it hurts," the reaper rasped. 

Michael’s tears stung as they leaked into cuts on his face from his earlier fight with the monster. He had felt hot and sweaty before from all the running and fighting, but now his fingers were iceblocks against his neck as he struggled with the wire digging into his flesh. A frighteningly cold, bone-deep chill cut into Michael's form, and the child trembled as he struggled to breathe through the blood and the pain. 

He couldn't run. Couldn't fight. The monster– the reaper– was going to kill him now. 

At least the pain will stop, a voice whispered in the teen's head. 

A quiet sob shook the young teen's core. He needed the pain to stop so fucking much, but he didn't want the pain to stop– he wanted to live. 

But if he was going to die, at least it would be on his own terms.

"Go ahead," Michael growled. "Jus– Just g-get it over with." 

The creature cocked its head at him again, like it had been too distracted watching the blood seeping from Michael's form to bother listening to what he had said. 

"Just d-do it!" Michael sobbed. "K-kill me, you– you wrinkly, p-puss-filled ball-sack! Come on! Just– just– get i-it over with and kill me!" 

The reaper took another step closer. "No." 

Blood-shot eyes locked onto the reaper's gaping eye sockets. "Why?!" 

Wasn't that the point?! Wasn't that what this– thing– had set out to do, over and over and over?! 

The reaper's hand settled on Michael’s chest. Mike didn't have the energy left to flinch or be wary. He only met the reaper's eye in pained exhaustion.

But then the reaper pushed. 

Michael screamed as his prized railroad spikes dug deeper into him until his bloody back was finally pressed flush against the wall. 

One of the railroad spikes went all the way through Michael’s chest and stabbed into the reaper's palm, but the monster didn't seem to notice. It ripped its hand away before latching onto one of Michael’s wrists as the teen frantically tried pulling the reaper's arm away from him. 

"You want to know why?" Its voice whipped against the air in a wild hiss.

The dull hallway light gleamed off the dark red liquid coating Michael’s skin as the reaper shoved the teen's blood-stained hand in front of his face before it snarled at him. "Because no matter how many ways you try to run or fight it, you will always bring this hell down on yourself with your own hands. You did this, Michael." 

'You're insane,' the teen wanted to say, but there was too much blood in Mike's throat for him to talk, or even to breathe. He tried shaking his head at the thing, but the wire was starting to cut frighteningly deep inside his throat. Michael could only stare at the monster in front of him with wide-eyed horror and beg for it to just end this, like the bastard was supposed to do when it caught him. 

The reaper released Michael’s wrist, and the teen's arm fell limply down to his side. 

He should do something; he should fight. But his energy had been draining away with every second he spent hanging on his own death trap, and there was so little left inside him. 

He couldn't even lean away as the reaper lifted its only hand, moved its fingers around the edge of his mask, and traced the curve of his head with an almost gentle touch. 

The reaper's broken fingers paused on a string looping behind the teen's head. It latched onto the string and pulled, ripping the Foxy mask off of Michael’s head. 

The reaper's teeth ground together as it glared down at the bloody mask before letting the plastic slip from between rotten fingers and fall to the bloody floor with a wet and heavy thunk. And without hesitation, the reaper slammed its foot down on the only thing that had ever made Michael feel strong. 

Hearing the sharp crack of plastic as the monster decimated the mask and shattered Foxy's maw into pieces wrenched a hopeless sob out of the teenager's chest. 

The reaper stayed still. It didn't move further away, nor did it move any closer.

It only watched as Michael struggled to free himself from the trap one last time before finally giving up. 

Michael struggled to gulp down another shaky breath through his sobbing but was rewarded only with more blood in his lungs and pain searing every nerve ending until even the most minuscule movements lit every cell and nerve in his body on fire. 

Through it all, the reaper stood back and watched with a smile. 

Not wanting to see the monster's smug, rotten face or the blood staining his own body anymore, Michael could do nothing but close his eyes and wait for the moment when the last drop of blood would drip from his body and all the pain would finally end.

(Michael had the sinking feeling that death wouldn’t be that easy of an escape.)

one of my favourite scenes in Saiki is when you learn that one of his powers is petrification but anything in front of his eyes will stop the power

so like a respectable young man, he wears glasses so as to not randomly petrify people!

and then in the same breath you find out that literally any pair of glasses will work but Mr. I-Hate-Being-the-Centre-of-Attention chooses to wear a pair of neon green glasses

i respect his commitment to the bit 🙏