Pango Error 1,000: The Story The plastic bag crumpled in his claws like a dying breath. Master Popcorn Thunderspeed hadn't meant to kill it—just to play—but now its crinkled corpse lay limp between his toes. His computer hummed softly on the desk, casting a blue glow across the half-eaten tuna sandwich and three empty soda cans from last night’s gaming marathon. A blue screen of death crashes Master Popcorn Thunderspeed's computer, as a blue gradient background came with a blue raccoon named Pango. Master Popcorn Thunderspeed flicked the bag carcass aside with a twitch of his tail and padded toward the glowing screen. The error message pulsed irregularly, as though breathing. He tapped a key with one careful claw—nothing. Another tap. The screen blinked black for a second, then resurrected the same jagged text, now with an added line: **PHASE 1: RELOADING.** A metallic whirr came from the tower, louder than usual. The fans sounded like they were chewing gravel. His whiskers twitched. He'd seen this before—the old Dell in the basement had made that noise right before spitting out sparks like a Fourth of July finale. But this was a custom rig, built by his buddy Gary last winter. It wasn't supposed to sound like a dying brakemaker. Master Popcorn Thunderspeed leaned in closer, his pink nose nearly touching the screen. The Pango error flickered again, and this time, the raccoon’s pixelated eyes seemed to track his movement. A chill ran down his spine—not the good kind, like when he found a fresh can of tuna left unattended, but the kind that made his tail puff up like a bottlebrush. He jabbed the power button with a decisive smack of his paw. The screen went black. Silence. Then, with a soft *click*, the monitor buzzed back to life. The same error message glared at him, but now the text had shifted slightly. Two turn-offs. Pango still remains the same. Master Popcorn Thunderspeed turns off his computer again. His claw touches the power button. The screen becomes black again. Pango changes after 3 times Master Popcorn Thunderspeed turns off the computer. The fifth reboot hit differently. The screen didn’t flicker back to life—it *sighed* into existence, the blue glow deepening to an unnatural indigo. Pango’s pixelated face had changed. The raccoon’s eyes weren’t just tracking him now; they were red, with sharp teeth. A new line of text pulsed beneath the error code: **PHASE 2: ENGAGED**. Master Popcorn Thunderspeed’s tail lashed once, twice, before settling into a wary curve. He flexed his claws against the desk, leaving faint scratches in the laminate. The tenth reboot came with a sound like a dozen mice screaming in unison—high-pitched, digital, and wrong. Master Popcorn Thunderspeed’s ears flattened against his skull as Pango’s face stretched across the entire screen, teeth glitching into jagged polygons. The text below now read **PHASE 3: TERMINAL**, and the raccoon’s pixelated fur had begun to crawl, individual squares peeling away like shedding skin. Popcorn flew away from the computer, as he says "I don't want to turn off my computer anymore." He strolls across the city and encounters a stranger he hasn't seen. The stranger stood silhouetted against the flickering neon of a laundromat sign, their outline blurring at the edges like a poorly rendered character model. Master Popcorn Thunderspeed slowed his pace, fur still slightly raised from the Pango incident. The air smelled of hot asphalt and distant rain—normal things, grounding things—but his tail kept twitching in irregular spasms. The stranger was a fox, Shock Fox. Master Popcorn Thunderspeed questions Shock Fox. "Wait, who are you?" Popcorn asked. And Shock Fox answers "You've met me before... You've met me somewhere around 10 years ago..." Shock Fox's tears began to erupt from his eyes. Popcorn then responds with "Oh, okay, I don't care."
@Emmet-2838 © Studio Pango © Toontown Rewritten
