<Begin Recording at: 06:23AM>
Date: 08/11/36
Location: A large room in Level 608, one that is currently under renovation. Captured from security cameras FF-10, FF-11, FF-12, and FE-1.
[At the early hours of the morning, Level 608 was especially busy. There was a mango-like scent filling up the various atriums and locomotive sheds, a smell that was almost intoxicatingly strong. Everyone currently within Level 608 were attuned to the smell, however, given that all present were members of the now amalgamated Backrooms Remodelling Company. All tourists were removed from the level a day prior, and the level itself was closed just hours ago, leaving the renovation team free to work. The current remodelling crew were utilising their Reality Fresheners, which had been upgraded thanks to their recent conglomeration, to hold the level and its stock in a liquid status. Their industrial machines were busy tearing through the antique stock as though it was putty, removing anything that had been recognised as uninteresting for tourists by the vacation division. A large pile of semi-liquified machine bits were being dumped into the pit of the turntable in the middle of the room, ready to be plastered over with concrete to meet with modern health and safety requirements. This, of course, was happening within every single room, making sure to stay on-schedule for the level's reopening in March of next year.]
[As the renovation division worked away, the individuals within one of the more renovated rooms were suddenly greeted by the, at the time, owner of the level, Blake. They suddenly stormed in from one of the adjacent hallways, panting and looking incredibly distraught as they almost tripped over in their haste. Two of the workers stopped controlling their bulldozer-esque vehicles that were pushing piles of scrap into the turntable pit, and leaned either on the controls or the back of the seat to look at Blake.]
Blake: Stop, stop! What the hell are you all doing to my stock?!
Jack Amspoker: Who the hell is this?
Franklin Crawford: Nooot someone who's on the project? Where's your uniform, dumbass?
Blake: I'm not with you! You're not meant to be here! This is MY space, and you're wrecking it in each room I've seen! S-Stop, I'm begging you!
[The two employees glanced to one another, shooting each other amused looks as Franklin Crawford approached Blake was visibly trembling, practically cowering. Their eyes had grown incredibly large and shaky, no doubt being brought to tears if they could cry, something which was matched by their hitching voice.]
Franklin Crawford: You look a little odd, you know. Outside of you looking like a snotty piece of shit.
Jack Amspoker: Hey, c'mon Franklin, we've got a job to do. Let's keep ahead of schedule and leave the crybaby alone.
Franklin Crawford: No no, Jack. I know who this is! You're one of the older fuckers aren't you? God, I can't believe Major Hanks used to leave missions to fuckers like you!
Jack Amspoker: Wait, really-? Oh, fuck, you're the ex-owner of this place aren't you!
Blake: I'm not an EX-owner of anything! This is my museum, and I'm ordering you to leave it!
Franklin Crawford: Jack, fill me in on what you're talking about.
Jack Amspoker: You'd know what I was talking about if you actually read the brief?
Franklin Crawford: I don't really give a shit about those.
Jack Amspoker: Obviously, idiot. The brief given to us from the division head mentioned that some "BRC sister species" owned this place. I was expecting something like a TV Head or a Corpus Core, but not this!
Franklin Crawford: Oh! Aw, no wonder you're in such a tissy, huh? Well, we're on order to wreck up your shit. The restoration division gave us full reigns to plan this place out according to their guidelines.
Blake: Well, I don't allow it. I-I won't have it at all! I'm ordering ALL of you out of MY level!
Franklin Crawford: Psh, as if we'd listen to that.
Jack Amspoker: Besides, it's not your level anymore, anyways. At least not as of five hours ago.
Blake: …Wh-What? It's always been mine-?
Frankline Crawford: Clearly not anymore. Looks like someone didn't check their inbox!
Jack Amspoker: Actually, from what I remember about the brief, you… weren't notified at all! Oh well.
Blake: What?? Why?! You're invading and changing and taking over two centuries worth of my collecting!
Jack Amspoker: Well, do you wanna find out why, pipsqueak?
[Jack gave a small cackle, taking a phone from a compartment within the steering contraption of his machine. With a knowing expression, one which he quickly shot to Blake, he opened his phone up and began to swipe through his apps to find the one which contained the briefing for his assignment. With a brief hum, he scrolled a bit, finding the relevant passage which he began to read. The entire room was awkwardly silent as he did so, with Blake trembling as they watched on with worrying anticipation.]
Jack Amspoker: Do you remember much about July? Specifically July 2031.
Blake: What? Can't you just tell me what I wasn't notified about!?
Jack Amspoker: Answer the question and maybe I will!
Blake: Y-Yes! Yes! Of course I do, I-I-I had a big event to celebrate the place being a holiday spot for one whole year. I ran stuff, some of the stuff you've now broken, and I answered a bunch of questions for people!
Jack Amspoker: Oh, I was hoping you'd mention that part. Does the name Alex Patr ring a bell to you?
Blake: I don't know-? Maybe??
Jack Amspoker: Maybe you should've remembered! You had a little chit-chat with him, and you asked him to make sure that the M.E.O.D. doesn't contact you at all. Unless it's for "fun events", to pull a quote from Alex himself. Guess he really held up his end of the bargain?
Blake: But this is important! This is MY land. They should have told me about this! They would've! R-Right?
Jack Amspoker: Eh, evidently not?
[Jack shrugged to Blake, turning the dial on his dashboard to restart the ignition on his machine. With a quiet, electric whirring sound, the machine activated and its treads began to push on forwards, continuing on its pushing of semi-liquid scrap.]
Blake: No! No, no, no no, NO, NO, NO! Stop it! I'm ordering you!
[With a sudden and sharp flip of his hands, Blake suddenly raised up both his hands towards the two employees. The local area shook a bit, even disrupting the cameras and audio equipment, and the two machines gave a sputtering sound within them. However, after the brief moment of disruption, things gradually quietened. Jack and Franklin both laughed to one another, and Blake looked to their hands confusedly, flipping them to look at their palms]
Blake: What…?
Franklin Crawford: You tried to hurt us just then, didn't you! You really are a desperate little shit.
Blake: No no no, why didn't that work-
Franklin Crawford: Maybe because you're shit?
Jack Amspoker: It's not that, actually, to give them some credit.
[Both Franklin and Blake looked over to Jack, with the latter having moved his hands down to his sides with his fists balled up tightly. Jack slid out of the seat of his machine, walking over with a cocky step to the pair.]
Jack Amspoker: When the BRC got amalgamated, all our admittedly antiquated Reality Fresheners got a boost! Kinda put us to shame, but then again we didn't amalgamate hundreds of groups to get stupid amounts of tech. Their modifications allow the fresheners to halt quite a few natural effects or powers.
Franklin Crawford: Yeah, came in handy when having to negotiate with that library woman.
Jack Amspoker: It means we have to resort to only using machines to make our level modifications now, but who cares! We have those provided to us too.
[Blake panted with a slight tremble in their breath, looking between Jack and Franklin with a growing rage. Suddenly, Blake swung one of their balled fists at Jack. They hit them square in the cheek with an aggressive, loud shout, their punch catching Jack off-guard as it threw them onto the floor with a thud.]
Franklin Crawford: Shit!
[Almost immediately, Franklin pushed Blake over, with Blake shouting in surprise and making a less violent thud onto the floor. Afterwards, Franklin got behind Blake, picking them up by the back of their arms and pulling them up whilst restraining their arms behind their back. Blake protested and tried to thrash out of Franklin's tough grip, though Franklin just responded by tightening their restraint on them. It made Blake yelp in pain, although they did try to thrash and escape less as Jack finally got up, rubbing their cheek and jaw.]
Jack Amspoker: Ngh, you little shit… I want to be impressed at that, because that hurt, but you've really just pissed me off…
Blake: I-I-I ordered you to l-leave. Y-You didn't…
Jack Amspoker: Yeah, yeah… That's not happening. You see, that classes as assault! On private property, no less.
Franklin Crawford: The legal division's going to have a fucking field day with you. I'm sure of it!
Jack Amspoker: Nah… I mean, no doubt they would, assuming we spoke to the right people, but this piece of garbage won't be going to the legal division. The M.E.O.D.'s science division, or more specifically some of their entity examination subdivisions, want them. So, they'll go there.
Franklin Crawford: Was that also in the brief…?
Jack Amspoker: Sure, why not. At the very least it's a fitting enough punishment for punching me…
Blake: Where am I going-?
Jack Amspoker: Shut up. Don't worry about it too much, you'll find out. Franklin, hold them down for me a bit longer, will you?
[Though a bit confused, Franklin nodded, squeezing on Blake's wrist which made them suddenly yelp out in pain, his feet briefly thrashing as a result. Jack, meanwhile, moved off to his machine, reaching into the same compartment his phone was in to pull out an orange-and-black looking box, about the same size of his phone, with some long and thick tubes protruding from either end. With Blake still restrained, Jack reapproached and wrapped the tubes around Blake's body and arms, wrapping them incredibly tightly. Once they were wrapped multiple times around Blake, Jack fastened the other end of each tube back onto the box, which was now at Blake's back close to his neck. Upon him flipping a switch, Blake suddenly gasped and whimpered in pain, almost collapsing if it wasn't for Franklin keeping him held up.]
Blake: Ow! Ow-! What have you put on me…?
Jack Amspoker: A Reality Freshener hooked up to a battery, with some weird industrial metal shit to restrain your body. Don't expect to be able to do anything whilst you're in that.
Franklin Crawford: Can I let go of them now…?
Jack Amspoker: No? They committed assault, and the labcoats will want them anyways. Take them to the Plastic City, then through to the main city.
Franklin Crawford: You're not even going to call in an officer to take them off?
Jack Amspoker: I already said the legal division's not getting involved, Franklin, keep up. Besides, the battery on that thing won't last too long if we wait. Just take them away yourself, I'm sure you can navigate to 11 easily.
Franklin Crawford: I guess so… Oh well, good thing we were ahead of schedule.
Blake: No, no, stop! I'm begging you, please! Let me go, let me go! I-I don't want this!
[Blake continued to call out and scream, something which escalated as Franklin picked them up and began to carry them over the shoulder away. Their screaming and begging could be heard from down the same hall that Blake came from, but it gradually quietened and even dissipated completely as both Blake and Franklin went to Level 402. In the mean-time, Jack resumed work, getting back on his machine to continue the destruction of the less-important artifacts.]
<End Log at: 06:30AM>
