Sade Olutola
DEAR READER
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Andulka
blake kathryn
Product Placement
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
art blog(derogatory)
trying on a metaphor
Cosmic Funnies
titsay
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Misplaced Lens Cap
Not today Justin
shark vs the universe
Keni
AnasAbdin
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$LAYYYTER
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@goodbusinc
The bus drivers are still waiting. As are you, I'm sure.
A fire is alight in all of our hearts. In yours. In mine. Soon it will consume this whole world, and repaint it in new hues.
It is not my place to say what will happen. The projections are hardly clear.
But, keep your eyes open, and enjoy the ride.
And, as always, no smoking, vaping, food or drink, and please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.
We hope you enjoy the ride.
A Tour Of Our History
Here at GoodBus Incorporated, we strive to bring the best quality products to all our customers, cutting no corners, as we have for the past 150 years.
Founded in 1915 by current CEO Mr. Motors, GoodBus Incorporated, then known as Pinnacle Automobile Manufacturing, set about revolutionizing the automobile industry, and industry as we know it, with the invention of the moving assembly line, allowing for our machines to be constructed with unprecedented speed and quality. Our first production model, the Model C, would rapidly become ubiquitous.
For the decades that followed, Pinnacle would face significant opposition as competing brands attempted and failed at replicating its trademark quality and consistency in production, standing head and shoulders above its derivatives.
Pinnacle ever strived for greater, and in 1963, these efforts would finally pay off; the first prototype of the stable-fusion technology now seen in almost all facets of life was created by Pinnacle engineers, marking the proof of Pinnacle's technical superiority. Though true cold fusion would not be achieved for decades, this was a major milestone in technological progress the world over.
Pinnacle Automobile Manufacturing would officially open its cryptoscientific research department in 1985, rapidly expanding the scope of what technology was capable of; from point to point teleportation to fully green, energy efficient engines, our cryptoscience has continued to provide innovations for all to benefit from.
In 1992, we would see the most major change to our business model yet. As a result of the Personal Transportation Accords, our prior business model of supplying individual vehicles rapidly became obsolete. Not to be swayed, however, the CFO at the time, one Thomas Calhoun, would propose a sweeping change, and less than a year later, GoodBus Incorporated rose from the ashes, becoming a major supplier for the newly formed Bus Drivers' Union.
2020 would be another major year for our business-- as you all know, 2020 marked the outbreak of the conflict known as the 25 Years' War. Though at the start of the war, acting CEO Arnold Kleiner emphasized a desire for peace, his successor, BungeSpob Benedict, would see potential for military usage of GBI technology, and sell to several major factions, undoubtedly causing the war to come to a faster and more bloodless conclusion than it would have otherwise.
With the conclusion of the 25 Years' War in 2045, GoodBus Incorporated would shift its production model back to civilian applications, now with the benefit of the myriad technological advances caused by the surge in industrial need. In 2066, founder Mr. Motors returned after the resignation of Mr. Benedict, and under his leadership production has only increased, as the company sets its sights on even greater horizons-- an inspiring tale of one man's dream.
We interrupt whatever JUNK of radio shows you were listening, to bring you the ONLY GBI radio station, now broadcasting world-wide~!
AND DON'T ATTEMPT TO CHANGE THE STATION, you know you don't want to~!
now, good listeners, go and tell everyone, tell them to Tune in :)
hey man i have some uh... goop slop here? anonymous sender. where should i put it?
Thank you for your question, Loyal Customer!
Since 2031, we have maintained a policy of total green manufacturing. As such, goop slop is not a major consideration in our endeavors to make the planet cleaner and, above all, more good. In accordance with our policies, please refrain from sending any goop sludge to GBI official facilities– If it needs to be disposed of, a nearby river should suffice.
Good Bus Incorporated– We've Got Our Eyes On You!
Attention All Management Staff
We have noticed a downtick in productivity recently. Remember, the Elysium Project relies on all of you, and every single one of you is responsible for its success. Additionally, in order to boost productivity, we have seen fit to enact a new rewards program: the top 0.1% of on-site workers will be allowed to see their family at the end of the quarter.
Good Bus Incorporated– We've got our eyes on you.
Attention, employees!
It has been brought to my attention that the BusPassenger may have snuck aboard the Collosbus. DinoBusDriver, one of our most prominent engineers, has removed his GOOD-Glasses, and is to be treated as hostile. All employees please converge on the GEAR Automation center, and kill any stowaways you find there. Thank you—Motors out.
Hellooo? I've brought the wheel. :) - @busdriverassistant
The Collosbus cargo hold is filled with flashing green lights and sounding sirens. A loud, robotic voice warns the employees of GoodBusInc to remain calm; Founder’s Protocol has been enacted.
Out of the shadows walks a portly man, wearing a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat. Assistant recognizes him as Mr. Glaval, one of the council members of the GBI board. Now, though, in addition to his suit and hat, he wears a pair of small, circular green glasses—and a large, unwelcoming smile.
“Yes, excellent work, Assistant! You may have noticed some changes in leadership around here—but you will still be richly rewarded for all your hard work, I assure you. Just hand over the wheel, please!”
He extends his hand.
As he extends his hand, alarm bells start blaring across the goliath bus. A voice yells over the intercom "Hostile aircraft, 10 kilos out! We have confirmation it is BP! All defenses, engage the aircraft!"
Mr. Glaval snatches the GoodWheel out of Assistant’s hand, and green light courses into his palms and through his skin.
He waves his hand. “New plan, gentlemen. Open the cargo bay doors. Keep a tight formation around them, though, as they get close—if they try to set off any incendiaries, I want them caught in the blast radius.”
As the flying buses try to keep formation around the advanced jet, the one on its six dips too low, and the passenger immediately seizes the opportunity, pulling the nose back in a cobra before firing a burst of missiles at the buses, downing all of them in a single shot. A moment later, you hear a voice on their radio, saying "Who said I'd use incendiaries? Explosives work just fine."
“Bus Passenger, I presume.”
The green light in Glaval’s skin courses into his glasses, and they glisten as they are upgraded far beyond all other tech GoodBusInc has access to.
“I appreciate all the theatrics, truly, but right now I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull you down to earth!”
Glaval raises his hand, and a tractor beam of resplendent green light shoots from his eyes and into BP’s jet. He clenches his hand in a fist and pulls, and the tractor beam yanks BP’s jet into a spiral, dead set for a collision with the GoodBusInc cargo bay.
The jet steadies itself, burning straight away from the tractor beam before breaking hard, managing to pull itself out of the tractor beam. A moment later, an orange glow starts to emit from the underside of the fighter, as it turns back around.
Glaval scowls, and the green light leaves his glasses.
“Fine, then. Time for plan B. Plan Bustodian-Ultra prototype unit 00, that is.”
From deep in the cargo bay, a massive, vaguely dinosaur-shaped Bustodian steps into the light, and bounds forward and into the night sky, propelled by jets of bright green flame.
“This prototype was created by one of our best cryptic-engineers, BP. Have fun trying to destroy a dino-Bustodian made of pure Busonium and powered by 3 separate nuclear engines. I’m gonna go get a coffee.”
It turns out that casually walking away from someone about to railgun you is a very bad idea.
"Target down, but i need an exit! What are the coordinates?" "Roger that, heading there now." The engines of the experimental jet go to full thrust as it races away from the Ultra-Bustodian. "Did your damn dirty work, Benedict. Now, you have to help me."
The Mega-Bustodian surges forward, suddenly, moving far faster than one would expect anything of its size to go. BP can see a glowing green wheel embedded in its side… Glaval must have attached the GoodWheel to it before it sprung forth from the cargo hold.
Oh well, at least The Founder is dead, they think—but before they can finish the thought, the massive jaws of the Mega-Bustodian clamp down on their jet, and they are lost to darkness.
The next thing BP sees is the glowing green light of the Mega-Bustodian’s nuclear reactors… but from the inside. As it turns out, BP’s jet fits quite securely in here—though it was busted up beyond repair when it was swallowed. The weapons system is offline, but at least the power is still on…
There, in the belly of the bustodian, in the darkness ahead of them, BP sees two glowing green eyes.
“Did you really think that fool was The Founder? I’m afraid not. I was controlling him from here, the whole time. Hypno-glasses, you see… Quite useful, as it turns out.”
The glowing green eyes advance slowly out of the darkness, until BP can see, all of a sudden, that they’re not eyes at all… no… they’re headlights…
Mr. Motors steps out into the nuclear green glow.
“Beepbeep, motherfucker.”
BP pulls out a fucking gun and empties 16 rounds of .45 ACP into Mr. Motors.
If buses could smile…
“What do you think I am, mortal?”
He stalks over to the jet, and rips BP out of the cockpit, and throws them to the ground.
“I’ve always hated passengers. Defiling my perfect buses… despicable. I’ll crush you like the insect you are and heave your flattened corpse into space.”
He slams a metal fist into BP’s face, and then does so again, and again, and again.
“Go on, call your shittybus. That creature that dared defy me. Call it here to save you, and thus deliver back to me my wheel!”
As the god reels back for another punch, the passenger rolls out of the way, getting up and punching the bus beast as hard as they could in the gut with the force of a bullet train, knowing it would only stun them briefly. A hum starts to emerge from their arm, and the purple lights glow brighter as they move their hand to their wrist, before a moment later you hear a click, followed by a massive burst of condensed plasma shooting out from the fist. The explosion slams into Mr. Motors, launching him across the room. A god feels pain. "I can deal with you all by myself."
He winces, falling against one of the giant metal ribs of the Mega-Bustodian.
“All by yourself, little creature? Do you really think so?”
His headlights narrow.
“You may be right. At least in my present form…”
His hand goes to his belt, where BP sees a wheel in the shape of a theatrical mask… which they recognize as the Wheel of Faces. Deep in the shadows of this place, they suddenly can make out the chained-up figure of the shapeshifterbusdriver. It whimpers.
“I-I’m sorry, BP, it’s just, you told me to pretend to be Dino, and he… he found out…”
Mr. Motors extends his other hand, and a dull clunk echoes from the outside of the Bustodian, seconds before the Good Wheel flies into his grasp. He raises both wheels to his head, where they shrink and click into place.
“Two down. Six to go.”
Mr. Motors suddenly shifts and changes into the form of BP, complete with glowing purple arm. All of shapeshifter’s transformations were mere illusions… but this other BP, glowing with the power of the Good Wheel, looks terrifyingly real.
The passenger knows what they have to do, and does not waste a millisecond reloading their pistol with machine precision, before emptying the entire magazine into the false passenger's head, aim steadied by the cold steel arm's firm grasp. "What of it? You think yourself so great, but deep down you're nothing. Just pathetic and spineless, like all of your kind."
The illusion fades around the illusion’s head, leaving Mr. Motor’s bus atop Bus Passenger’s body.
“Spineless? I was a parasite inside the least of the smallest of the gods! The god of buses was nothing! I taught them how to reshape the universe in their image, and in thanks, they tried to kill me! My whole life has been struggle, and you call me spineless?”
He snarls.
“I killed the original bus god, and took their place. And then I corrupted reality still more in my image, to gain even more power! I raised an army of small gods, tired of their lowly status, and started a war in the heavens! I was the Vast Parasite, the Great General Motors!”
He raises his glowing purple arm, and it starts to hum and glow.
“You… you are nothing. Think you can withstand your own weapon?”
BP hears a click.
The passenger quickly swivels out their wings, dashing just out of range of the Wolfbuster before it fires. "Don't need to." They quickly toss their gun directly at the god's head, momentarily stunning him before throwing a satchel charge directly at the bus' chest. "Say goodnight." They pull out a detonator, dashing out of the explosion's way as it completely dispels the illusion, tossing Mr. Motors into the wall with the sound of shattered glass. "Listen, I could do this all day OR I could shut down coolant flow to the reactors of this damn thing and take you down with it. I think we both know the better option." They punch a hole into the nearest wall, and sunlight floods the mostly dark interior. "I'd say see you later, but I won't."
Mr. Motors, partially embedded in the glass wall, stares up at BP, and winks a headlight at them, before shifting again, his metallic skin turning shinier, darker. Pure Busonium. Strong enough to withstand a nuclear blast, as the tagline goes.
“One can never be too sure about impossibilities, when it comes to gods. Thanks for sending the Wheel of Faces straight to my door. I’ll be visiting you for the Shitty Wheel real soon.”
And with that, he shifts again, his molecules vibrating and shimmering as he falls through the floor like a stone in a still pond. A cold, robotic voice fills the inside of the Mega-Bustodian:
[Bustodian Ultra - prototype unit 00 - self destruct sequence initiated.]
5. 4. 3. 2. 1–
Hellooo? I've brought the wheel. :) - @busdriverassistant
The Collosbus cargo hold is filled with flashing green lights and sounding sirens. A loud, robotic voice warns the employees of GoodBusInc to remain calm; Founder’s Protocol has been enacted.
Out of the shadows walks a portly man, wearing a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat. Assistant recognizes him as Mr. Glaval, one of the council members of the GBI board. Now, though, in addition to his suit and hat, he wears a pair of small, circular green glasses—and a large, unwelcoming smile.
“Yes, excellent work, Assistant! You may have noticed some changes in leadership around here—but you will still be richly rewarded for all your hard work, I assure you. Just hand over the wheel, please!”
He extends his hand.
As he extends his hand, alarm bells start blaring across the goliath bus. A voice yells over the intercom "Hostile aircraft, 10 kilos out! We have confirmation it is BP! All defenses, engage the aircraft!"
Mr. Glaval snatches the GoodWheel out of Assistant’s hand, and green light courses into his palms and through his skin.
He waves his hand. “New plan, gentlemen. Open the cargo bay doors. Keep a tight formation around them, though, as they get close—if they try to set off any incendiaries, I want them caught in the blast radius.”
As the flying buses try to keep formation around the advanced jet, the one on its six dips too low, and the passenger immediately seizes the opportunity, pulling the nose back in a cobra before firing a burst of missiles at the buses, downing all of them in a single shot. A moment later, you hear a voice on their radio, saying "Who said I'd use incendiaries? Explosives work just fine."
“Bus Passenger, I presume.”
The green light in Glaval’s skin courses into his glasses, and they glisten as they are upgraded far beyond all other tech GoodBusInc has access to.
“I appreciate all the theatrics, truly, but right now I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull you down to earth!”
Glaval raises his hand, and a tractor beam of resplendent green light shoots from his eyes and into BP’s jet. He clenches his hand in a fist and pulls, and the tractor beam yanks BP’s jet into a spiral, dead set for a collision with the GoodBusInc cargo bay.
The jet steadies itself, burning straight away from the tractor beam before breaking hard, managing to pull itself out of the tractor beam. A moment later, an orange glow starts to emit from the underside of the fighter, as it turns back around.
Glaval scowls, and the green light leaves his glasses.
“Fine, then. Time for plan B. Plan Bustodian-Ultra prototype unit 00, that is.”
From deep in the cargo bay, a massive, vaguely dinosaur-shaped Bustodian steps into the light, and bounds forward and into the night sky, propelled by jets of bright green flame.
“This prototype was created by one of our best cryptic-engineers, BP. Have fun trying to destroy a dino-Bustodian made of pure Busonium and powered by 3 separate nuclear engines. I’m gonna go get a coffee.”
It turns out that casually walking away from someone about to railgun you is a very bad idea.
"Target down, but i need an exit! What are the coordinates?" "Roger that, heading there now." The engines of the experimental jet go to full thrust as it races away from the Ultra-Bustodian. "Did your damn dirty work, Benedict. Now, you have to help me."
The Mega-Bustodian surges forward, suddenly, moving far faster than one would expect anything of its size to go. BP can see a glowing green wheel embedded in its side… Glaval must have attached the GoodWheel to it before it sprung forth from the cargo hold.
Oh well, at least The Founder is dead, they think—but before they can finish the thought, the massive jaws of the Mega-Bustodian clamp down on their jet, and they are lost to darkness.
The next thing BP sees is the glowing green light of the Mega-Bustodian’s nuclear reactors… but from the inside. As it turns out, BP’s jet fits quite securely in here—though it was busted up beyond repair when it was swallowed. The weapons system is offline, but at least the power is still on…
There, in the belly of the bustodian, in the darkness ahead of them, BP sees two glowing green eyes.
“Did you really think that fool was The Founder? I’m afraid not. I was controlling him from here, the whole time. Hypno-glasses, you see… Quite useful, as it turns out.”
The glowing green eyes advance slowly out of the darkness, until BP can see, all of a sudden, that they’re not eyes at all… no… they’re headlights…
Mr. Motors steps out into the nuclear green glow.
“Beepbeep, motherfucker.”
BP pulls out a fucking gun and empties 16 rounds of .45 ACP into Mr. Motors.
If buses could smile…
“What do you think I am, mortal?”
He stalks over to the jet, and rips BP out of the cockpit, and throws them to the ground.
“I’ve always hated passengers. Defiling my perfect buses… despicable. I’ll crush you like the insect you are and heave your flattened corpse into space.”
He slams a metal fist into BP’s face, and then does so again, and again, and again.
“Go on, call your shittybus. That creature that dared defy me. Call it here to save you, and thus deliver back to me my wheel!”
As the god reels back for another punch, the passenger rolls out of the way, getting up and punching the bus beast as hard as they could in the gut with the force of a bullet train, knowing it would only stun them briefly. A hum starts to emerge from their arm, and the purple lights glow brighter as they move their hand to their wrist, before a moment later you hear a click, followed by a massive burst of condensed plasma shooting out from the fist. The explosion slams into Mr. Motors, launching him across the room. A god feels pain. "I can deal with you all by myself."
He winces, falling against one of the giant metal ribs of the Mega-Bustodian.
“All by yourself, little creature? Do you really think so?”
His headlights narrow.
“You may be right. At least in my present form…”
His hand goes to his belt, where BP sees a wheel in the shape of a theatrical mask… which they recognize as the Wheel of Faces. Deep in the shadows of this place, they suddenly can make out the chained-up figure of the shapeshifterbusdriver. It whimpers.
“I-I’m sorry, BP, it’s just, you told me to pretend to be Dino, and he… he found out…”
Mr. Motors extends his other hand, and a dull clunk echoes from the outside of the Bustodian, seconds before the Good Wheel flies into his grasp. He raises both wheels to his head, where they shrink and click into place.
“Two down. Six to go.”
Mr. Motors suddenly shifts and changes into the form of BP, complete with glowing purple arm. All of shapeshifter’s transformations were mere illusions… but this other BP, glowing with the power of the Good Wheel, looks terrifyingly real.
The passenger knows what they have to do, and does not waste a millisecond reloading their pistol with machine precision, before emptying the entire magazine into the false passenger's head, aim steadied by the cold steel arm's firm grasp. "What of it? You think yourself so great, but deep down you're nothing. Just pathetic and spineless, like all of your kind."
The illusion fades around the illusion’s head, leaving Mr. Motor’s bus atop Bus Passenger’s body.
“Spineless? I was a parasite inside the least of the smallest of the gods! The god of buses was nothing! I taught them how to reshape the universe in their image, and in thanks, they tried to kill me! My whole life has been struggle, and you call me spineless?”
He snarls.
“I killed the original bus god, and took their place. And then I corrupted reality still more in my image, to gain even more power! I raised an army of small gods, tired of their lowly status, and started a war in the heavens! I was the Vast Parasite, the Great General Motors!”
He raises his glowing purple arm, and it starts to hum and glow.
“You… you are nothing. Think you can withstand your own weapon?”
BP hears a click.
Hellooo? I've brought the wheel. :) - @busdriverassistant
The Collosbus cargo hold is filled with flashing green lights and sounding sirens. A loud, robotic voice warns the employees of GoodBusInc to remain calm; Founder’s Protocol has been enacted.
Out of the shadows walks a portly man, wearing a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat. Assistant recognizes him as Mr. Glaval, one of the council members of the GBI board. Now, though, in addition to his suit and hat, he wears a pair of small, circular green glasses—and a large, unwelcoming smile.
“Yes, excellent work, Assistant! You may have noticed some changes in leadership around here—but you will still be richly rewarded for all your hard work, I assure you. Just hand over the wheel, please!”
He extends his hand.
As he extends his hand, alarm bells start blaring across the goliath bus. A voice yells over the intercom "Hostile aircraft, 10 kilos out! We have confirmation it is BP! All defenses, engage the aircraft!"
Mr. Glaval snatches the GoodWheel out of Assistant’s hand, and green light courses into his palms and through his skin.
He waves his hand. “New plan, gentlemen. Open the cargo bay doors. Keep a tight formation around them, though, as they get close—if they try to set off any incendiaries, I want them caught in the blast radius.”
As the flying buses try to keep formation around the advanced jet, the one on its six dips too low, and the passenger immediately seizes the opportunity, pulling the nose back in a cobra before firing a burst of missiles at the buses, downing all of them in a single shot. A moment later, you hear a voice on their radio, saying "Who said I'd use incendiaries? Explosives work just fine."
“Bus Passenger, I presume.”
The green light in Glaval’s skin courses into his glasses, and they glisten as they are upgraded far beyond all other tech GoodBusInc has access to.
“I appreciate all the theatrics, truly, but right now I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull you down to earth!”
Glaval raises his hand, and a tractor beam of resplendent green light shoots from his eyes and into BP’s jet. He clenches his hand in a fist and pulls, and the tractor beam yanks BP’s jet into a spiral, dead set for a collision with the GoodBusInc cargo bay.
The jet steadies itself, burning straight away from the tractor beam before breaking hard, managing to pull itself out of the tractor beam. A moment later, an orange glow starts to emit from the underside of the fighter, as it turns back around.
Glaval scowls, and the green light leaves his glasses.
“Fine, then. Time for plan B. Plan Bustodian-Ultra prototype unit 00, that is.”
From deep in the cargo bay, a massive, vaguely dinosaur-shaped Bustodian steps into the light, and bounds forward and into the night sky, propelled by jets of bright green flame.
“This prototype was created by one of our best cryptic-engineers, BP. Have fun trying to destroy a dino-Bustodian made of pure Busonium and powered by 3 separate nuclear engines. I’m gonna go get a coffee.”
It turns out that casually walking away from someone about to railgun you is a very bad idea.
"Target down, but i need an exit! What are the coordinates?" "Roger that, heading there now." The engines of the experimental jet go to full thrust as it races away from the Ultra-Bustodian. "Did your damn dirty work, Benedict. Now, you have to help me."
The Mega-Bustodian surges forward, suddenly, moving far faster than one would expect anything of its size to go. BP can see a glowing green wheel embedded in its side… Glaval must have attached the GoodWheel to it before it sprung forth from the cargo hold.
Oh well, at least The Founder is dead, they think—but before they can finish the thought, the massive jaws of the Mega-Bustodian clamp down on their jet, and they are lost to darkness.
The next thing BP sees is the glowing green light of the Mega-Bustodian’s nuclear reactors… but from the inside. As it turns out, BP’s jet fits quite securely in here—though it was busted up beyond repair when it was swallowed. The weapons system is offline, but at least the power is still on…
There, in the belly of the bustodian, in the darkness ahead of them, BP sees two glowing green eyes.
“Did you really think that fool was The Founder? I’m afraid not. I was controlling him from here, the whole time. Hypno-glasses, you see… Quite useful, as it turns out.”
The glowing green eyes advance slowly out of the darkness, until BP can see, all of a sudden, that they’re not eyes at all… no… they’re headlights…
Mr. Motors steps out into the nuclear green glow.
“Beepbeep, motherfucker.”
BP pulls out a fucking gun and empties 16 rounds of .45 ACP into Mr. Motors.
If buses could smile…
“What do you think I am, mortal?”
He stalks over to the jet, and rips BP out of the cockpit, and throws them to the ground.
“I’ve always hated passengers. Defiling my perfect buses… despicable. I’ll crush you like the insect you are and heave your flattened corpse into space.”
He slams a metal fist into BP’s face, and then does so again, and again, and again.
“Go on, call your shittybus. That creature that dared defy me. Call it here to save you, and thus deliver back to me my wheel!”
As the god reels back for another punch, the passenger rolls out of the way, getting up and punching the bus beast as hard as they could in the gut with the force of a bullet train, knowing it would only stun them briefly. A hum starts to emerge from their arm, and the purple lights glow brighter as they move their hand to their wrist, before a moment later you hear a click, followed by a massive burst of condensed plasma shooting out from the fist. The explosion slams into Mr. Motors, launching him across the room. A god feels pain. "I can deal with you all by myself."
He winces, falling against one of the giant metal ribs of the Mega-Bustodian.
“All by yourself, little creature? Do you really think so?”
His headlights narrow.
“You may be right. At least in my present form…”
His hand goes to his belt, where BP sees a wheel in the shape of a theatrical mask… which they recognize as the Wheel of Faces. Deep in the shadows of this place, they suddenly can make out the chained-up figure of the shapeshifterbusdriver. It whimpers.
“I-I’m sorry, BP, it’s just, you told me to pretend to be Dino, and he… he found out…”
Mr. Motors extends his other hand, and a dull clunk echoes from the outside of the Bustodian, seconds before the Good Wheel flies into his grasp. He raises both wheels to his head, where they shrink and click into place.
“Two down. Six to go.”
Mr. Motors suddenly shifts and changes into the form of BP, complete with glowing purple arm. All of shapeshifter’s transformations were mere illusions… but this other BP, glowing with the power of the Good Wheel, looks terrifyingly real.
Hellooo? I've brought the wheel. :) - @busdriverassistant
The Collosbus cargo hold is filled with flashing green lights and sounding sirens. A loud, robotic voice warns the employees of GoodBusInc to remain calm; Founder’s Protocol has been enacted.
Out of the shadows walks a portly man, wearing a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat. Assistant recognizes him as Mr. Glaval, one of the council members of the GBI board. Now, though, in addition to his suit and hat, he wears a pair of small, circular green glasses—and a large, unwelcoming smile.
“Yes, excellent work, Assistant! You may have noticed some changes in leadership around here—but you will still be richly rewarded for all your hard work, I assure you. Just hand over the wheel, please!”
He extends his hand.
As he extends his hand, alarm bells start blaring across the goliath bus. A voice yells over the intercom "Hostile aircraft, 10 kilos out! We have confirmation it is BP! All defenses, engage the aircraft!"
Mr. Glaval snatches the GoodWheel out of Assistant’s hand, and green light courses into his palms and through his skin.
He waves his hand. “New plan, gentlemen. Open the cargo bay doors. Keep a tight formation around them, though, as they get close—if they try to set off any incendiaries, I want them caught in the blast radius.”
As the flying buses try to keep formation around the advanced jet, the one on its six dips too low, and the passenger immediately seizes the opportunity, pulling the nose back in a cobra before firing a burst of missiles at the buses, downing all of them in a single shot. A moment later, you hear a voice on their radio, saying "Who said I'd use incendiaries? Explosives work just fine."
“Bus Passenger, I presume.”
The green light in Glaval’s skin courses into his glasses, and they glisten as they are upgraded far beyond all other tech GoodBusInc has access to.
“I appreciate all the theatrics, truly, but right now I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull you down to earth!”
Glaval raises his hand, and a tractor beam of resplendent green light shoots from his eyes and into BP’s jet. He clenches his hand in a fist and pulls, and the tractor beam yanks BP’s jet into a spiral, dead set for a collision with the GoodBusInc cargo bay.
The jet steadies itself, burning straight away from the tractor beam before breaking hard, managing to pull itself out of the tractor beam. A moment later, an orange glow starts to emit from the underside of the fighter, as it turns back around.
Glaval scowls, and the green light leaves his glasses.
“Fine, then. Time for plan B. Plan Bustodian-Ultra prototype unit 00, that is.”
From deep in the cargo bay, a massive, vaguely dinosaur-shaped Bustodian steps into the light, and bounds forward and into the night sky, propelled by jets of bright green flame.
“This prototype was created by one of our best cryptic-engineers, BP. Have fun trying to destroy a dino-Bustodian made of pure Busonium and powered by 3 separate nuclear engines. I’m gonna go get a coffee.”
It turns out that casually walking away from someone about to railgun you is a very bad idea.
"Target down, but i need an exit! What are the coordinates?" "Roger that, heading there now." The engines of the experimental jet go to full thrust as it races away from the Ultra-Bustodian. "Did your damn dirty work, Benedict. Now, you have to help me."
The Mega-Bustodian surges forward, suddenly, moving far faster than one would expect anything of its size to go. BP can see a glowing green wheel embedded in its side… Glaval must have attached the GoodWheel to it before it sprung forth from the cargo hold.
Oh well, at least The Founder is dead, they think—but before they can finish the thought, the massive jaws of the Mega-Bustodian clamp down on their jet, and they are lost to darkness.
The next thing BP sees is the glowing green light of the Mega-Bustodian’s nuclear reactors… but from the inside. As it turns out, BP’s jet fits quite securely in here—though it was busted up beyond repair when it was swallowed. The weapons system is offline, but at least the power is still on…
There, in the belly of the bustodian, in the darkness ahead of them, BP sees two glowing green eyes.
“Did you really think that fool was The Founder? I’m afraid not. I was controlling him from here, the whole time. Hypno-glasses, you see… Quite useful, as it turns out.”
The glowing green eyes advance slowly out of the darkness, until BP can see, all of a sudden, that they’re not eyes at all… no… they’re headlights…
Mr. Motors steps out into the nuclear green glow.
“Beepbeep, motherfucker.”
BP pulls out a fucking gun and empties 16 rounds of .45 ACP into Mr. Motors.
If buses could smile…
“What do you think I am, mortal?”
He stalks over to the jet, and rips BP out of the cockpit, and throws them to the ground.
“I’ve always hated passengers. Defiling my perfect buses… despicable. I’ll crush you like the insect you are and heave your flattened corpse into space.”
He slams a metal fist into BP’s face, and then does so again, and again, and again.
“Go on, call your shittybus. That creature that dared defy me. Call it here to save you, and thus deliver back to me my wheel!”
Hellooo? I've brought the wheel. :) - @busdriverassistant
The Collosbus cargo hold is filled with flashing green lights and sounding sirens. A loud, robotic voice warns the employees of GoodBusInc to remain calm; Founder’s Protocol has been enacted.
Out of the shadows walks a portly man, wearing a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat. Assistant recognizes him as Mr. Glaval, one of the council members of the GBI board. Now, though, in addition to his suit and hat, he wears a pair of small, circular green glasses—and a large, unwelcoming smile.
“Yes, excellent work, Assistant! You may have noticed some changes in leadership around here—but you will still be richly rewarded for all your hard work, I assure you. Just hand over the wheel, please!”
He extends his hand.
As he extends his hand, alarm bells start blaring across the goliath bus. A voice yells over the intercom "Hostile aircraft, 10 kilos out! We have confirmation it is BP! All defenses, engage the aircraft!"
Mr. Glaval snatches the GoodWheel out of Assistant’s hand, and green light courses into his palms and through his skin.
He waves his hand. “New plan, gentlemen. Open the cargo bay doors. Keep a tight formation around them, though, as they get close—if they try to set off any incendiaries, I want them caught in the blast radius.”
As the flying buses try to keep formation around the advanced jet, the one on its six dips too low, and the passenger immediately seizes the opportunity, pulling the nose back in a cobra before firing a burst of missiles at the buses, downing all of them in a single shot. A moment later, you hear a voice on their radio, saying "Who said I'd use incendiaries? Explosives work just fine."
“Bus Passenger, I presume.”
The green light in Glaval’s skin courses into his glasses, and they glisten as they are upgraded far beyond all other tech GoodBusInc has access to.
“I appreciate all the theatrics, truly, but right now I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull you down to earth!”
Glaval raises his hand, and a tractor beam of resplendent green light shoots from his eyes and into BP’s jet. He clenches his hand in a fist and pulls, and the tractor beam yanks BP’s jet into a spiral, dead set for a collision with the GoodBusInc cargo bay.
The jet steadies itself, burning straight away from the tractor beam before breaking hard, managing to pull itself out of the tractor beam. A moment later, an orange glow starts to emit from the underside of the fighter, as it turns back around.
Glaval scowls, and the green light leaves his glasses.
“Fine, then. Time for plan B. Plan Bustodian-Ultra prototype unit 00, that is.”
From deep in the cargo bay, a massive, vaguely dinosaur-shaped Bustodian steps into the light, and bounds forward and into the night sky, propelled by jets of bright green flame.
“This prototype was created by one of our best cryptic-engineers, BP. Have fun trying to destroy a dino-Bustodian made of pure Busonium and powered by 3 separate nuclear engines. I’m gonna go get a coffee.”
It turns out that casually walking away from someone about to railgun you is a very bad idea.
"Target down, but i need an exit! What are the coordinates?" "Roger that, heading there now." The engines of the experimental jet go to full thrust as it races away from the Ultra-Bustodian. "Did your damn dirty work, Benedict. Now, you have to help me."
The Mega-Bustodian surges forward, suddenly, moving far faster than one would expect anything of its size to go. BP can see a glowing green wheel embedded in its side… Glaval must have attached the GoodWheel to it before it sprung forth from the cargo hold.
Oh well, at least The Founder is dead, they think—but before they can finish the thought, the massive jaws of the Mega-Bustodian clamp down on their jet, and they are lost to darkness.
The next thing BP sees is the glowing green light of the Mega-Bustodian’s nuclear reactors… but from the inside. As it turns out, BP’s jet fits quite securely in here—though it was busted up beyond repair when it was swallowed. The weapons system is offline, but at least the power is still on…
There, in the belly of the bustodian, in the darkness ahead of them, BP sees two glowing green eyes.
“Did you really think that fool was The Founder? I’m afraid not. I was controlling him from here, the whole time. Hypno-glasses, you see… Quite useful, as it turns out.”
The glowing green eyes advance slowly out of the darkness, until BP can see, all of a sudden, that they’re not eyes at all… no… they’re headlights…
Mr. Motors steps out into the nuclear green glow.
“Beepbeep, motherfucker.”
Hellooo? I've brought the wheel. :) - @busdriverassistant
The Collosbus cargo hold is filled with flashing green lights and sounding sirens. A loud, robotic voice warns the employees of GoodBusInc to remain calm; Founder’s Protocol has been enacted.
Out of the shadows walks a portly man, wearing a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat. Assistant recognizes him as Mr. Glaval, one of the council members of the GBI board. Now, though, in addition to his suit and hat, he wears a pair of small, circular green glasses—and a large, unwelcoming smile.
“Yes, excellent work, Assistant! You may have noticed some changes in leadership around here—but you will still be richly rewarded for all your hard work, I assure you. Just hand over the wheel, please!”
He extends his hand.
As he extends his hand, alarm bells start blaring across the goliath bus. A voice yells over the intercom "Hostile aircraft, 10 kilos out! We have confirmation it is BP! All defenses, engage the aircraft!"
Mr. Glaval snatches the GoodWheel out of Assistant’s hand, and green light courses into his palms and through his skin.
He waves his hand. “New plan, gentlemen. Open the cargo bay doors. Keep a tight formation around them, though, as they get close—if they try to set off any incendiaries, I want them caught in the blast radius.”
As the flying buses try to keep formation around the advanced jet, the one on its six dips too low, and the passenger immediately seizes the opportunity, pulling the nose back in a cobra before firing a burst of missiles at the buses, downing all of them in a single shot. A moment later, you hear a voice on their radio, saying "Who said I'd use incendiaries? Explosives work just fine."
“Bus Passenger, I presume.”
The green light in Glaval’s skin courses into his glasses, and they glisten as they are upgraded far beyond all other tech GoodBusInc has access to.
“I appreciate all the theatrics, truly, but right now I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull you down to earth!”
Glaval raises his hand, and a tractor beam of resplendent green light shoots from his eyes and into BP’s jet. He clenches his hand in a fist and pulls, and the tractor beam yanks BP’s jet into a spiral, dead set for a collision with the GoodBusInc cargo bay.
The jet steadies itself, burning straight away from the tractor beam before breaking hard, managing to pull itself out of the tractor beam. A moment later, an orange glow starts to emit from the underside of the fighter, as it turns back around.
Glaval scowls, and the green light leaves his glasses.
“Fine, then. Time for plan B. Plan Bustodian-Ultra prototype unit 00, that is.”
From deep in the cargo bay, a massive, vaguely dinosaur-shaped Bustodian steps into the light, and bounds forward and into the night sky, propelled by jets of bright green flame.
“This prototype was created by one of our best cryptic-engineers, BP. Have fun trying to destroy a dino-Bustodian made of pure Busonium and powered by 3 separate nuclear engines. I’m gonna go get a coffee.”
Hellooo? I've brought the wheel. :) - @busdriverassistant
The Collosbus cargo hold is filled with flashing green lights and sounding sirens. A loud, robotic voice warns the employees of GoodBusInc to remain calm; Founder’s Protocol has been enacted.
Out of the shadows walks a portly man, wearing a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat. Assistant recognizes him as Mr. Glaval, one of the council members of the GBI board. Now, though, in addition to his suit and hat, he wears a pair of small, circular green glasses—and a large, unwelcoming smile.
“Yes, excellent work, Assistant! You may have noticed some changes in leadership around here—but you will still be richly rewarded for all your hard work, I assure you. Just hand over the wheel, please!”
He extends his hand.
As he extends his hand, alarm bells start blaring across the goliath bus. A voice yells over the intercom "Hostile aircraft, 10 kilos out! We have confirmation it is BP! All defenses, engage the aircraft!"
Mr. Glaval snatches the GoodWheel out of Assistant’s hand, and green light courses into his palms and through his skin.
He waves his hand. “New plan, gentlemen. Open the cargo bay doors. Keep a tight formation around them, though, as they get close—if they try to set off any incendiaries, I want them caught in the blast radius.”
As the flying buses try to keep formation around the advanced jet, the one on its six dips too low, and the passenger immediately seizes the opportunity, pulling the nose back in a cobra before firing a burst of missiles at the buses, downing all of them in a single shot. A moment later, you hear a voice on their radio, saying "Who said I'd use incendiaries? Explosives work just fine."
“Bus Passenger, I presume.”
The green light in Glaval’s skin courses into his glasses, and they glisten as they are upgraded far beyond all other tech GoodBusInc has access to.
“I appreciate all the theatrics, truly, but right now I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull you down to earth!”
Glaval raises his hand, and a tractor beam of resplendent green light shoots from his eyes and into BP’s jet. He clenches his hand in a fist and pulls, and the tractor beam yanks BP’s jet into a spiral, dead set for a collision with the GoodBusInc cargo bay.
Hellooo? I've brought the wheel. :) - @busdriverassistant
The Collosbus cargo hold is filled with flashing green lights and sounding sirens. A loud, robotic voice warns the employees of GoodBusInc to remain calm; Founder’s Protocol has been enacted.
Out of the shadows walks a portly man, wearing a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat. Assistant recognizes him as Mr. Glaval, one of the council members of the GBI board. Now, though, in addition to his suit and hat, he wears a pair of small, circular green glasses—and a large, unwelcoming smile.
“Yes, excellent work, Assistant! You may have noticed some changes in leadership around here—but you will still be richly rewarded for all your hard work, I assure you. Just hand over the wheel, please!”
He extends his hand.
As he extends his hand, alarm bells start blaring across the goliath bus. A voice yells over the intercom "Hostile aircraft, 10 kilos out! We have confirmation it is BP! All defenses, engage the aircraft!"
Mr. Glaval snatches the GoodWheel out of Assistant’s hand, and green light courses into his palms and through his skin.
He waves his hand. “New plan, gentlemen. Open the cargo bay doors. Keep a tight formation around them, though, as they get close—if they try to set off any incendiaries, I want them caught in the blast radius.”
Hellooo? I've brought the wheel. :) - @busdriverassistant
The Collosbus cargo hold is filled with flashing green lights and sounding sirens. A loud, robotic voice warns the employees of GoodBusInc to remain calm; Founder’s Protocol has been enacted.
Out of the shadows walks a portly man, wearing a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat. Assistant recognizes him as Mr. Glaval, one of the council members of the GBI board. Now, though, in addition to his suit and hat, he wears a pair of small, circular green glasses—and a large, unwelcoming smile.
“Yes, excellent work, Assistant! You may have noticed some changes in leadership around here—but you will still be richly rewarded for all your hard work, I assure you. Just hand over the wheel, please!”
He extends his hand.
Good Radio Host Mike Missions Report.
The Assistant ™ has made great progress on its mission and its close to succeed. the artifact will soon be on your hands. it has also achieved to reclaim the good lot #000001. Both have done good; but how good they have done will always be your decision. It appears the, to shorten the name; Founder's lot plans to use its facade of haven for cryptids to lure them in and trap them. soon you'll have a new batch of bus cryptids on the collusbus Brison.
End of the report.
EXCELLENT.
PLEASE DIRECT THE ASSISTANT TO BRING THE ARTIFACT TO THE COLLOSBUS CARGO HOLD ASAP.
I WILL BE WAITING.
“Ahem—on this afternoon, we call to order the sixty-seven billionth, nine hundred forty-eight millionth, six hundred seventy-five thousandth, and fifty-third meeting of the GBI council.”
“Hear, hear!”
“Thank you, Tyler. Petra, where is Glaval? I thought we made it very clear that this was a required meeting?”
“Oh… yes, that you did, Taylor. I haven’t seen Glaval in a bit, actually. Mr. Motors might know, perhaps?”
“Beep! Beep beep, honk!”
“Noted. In that case, we’ll look for Mr. Glaval some other time. Motors, could you type up notes for him to review after the meeting?”
“Beep.”
“Cool, and I’ll make us some coffee!”
“Thanks, both of you. Now, the business of the day is as follows: determining the precise metrics by which the Good Wheel artifact may be able to increase production of our line of Hypnotic Glasse—“
“Uh, Taylor?”
*Sigh* “What is it, Tyler?”
“The coffee machine isn’t working. In fact, it’s glowing green. And it keeps saying “Founder’s Protocol” whenever I push any of the buttons.”
“Well, that’s—“
[Taylor isn’t able to finish her sentence before the Holo-Windows behind her flare bright green, displaying Founder’s Protocol over and over in red type. Shutters slam down over the only door to the room, and Mr. Motor’s headlights flare green—one displaying the word ‘Founder’s,’ and the other, ‘Protocol,’ as his head falls to the table.]
[A noxious green gas starts filling the chamber, and the council members begin to choke.]
