As the big ol’ entangled up mangled up knot-cords and claws come careening down towards the four, Skiddo and Grapejello’s vast ingrained survival instincts kick in in their own ways and they both try their bestest to shy away or dodge the claws...with Pump flattening bonelessly to the ground with a squidlike splash and trying to slither his malleable goop-form quickly away, and Skid swiping and biting viciously at the impending claw with their sharp claws and teeth, growling like a feral dog...but it wasn’t any use. The claws were like honing missiles that got exponentially faster the longer they moved towards you. And once they inevitably connected to the kiddos’ heads, it took far less time than it would for the bonepumps to cause them to once again fall strange and limp and white-static-eyed and unconscious. Why was this? Well, as two individuals who belonged naturally to the internal codes of this Neo world, it was far easier for the Televisionary to bend the rules in its own favor when it came to those two than it was for those who came as strangers from a strange land.
Spoke the echoing voice of the Televisionary into the everywhere nowherescape presently, this being the first time in this whole disastro-maestro-conversationalism that he actually addressed Bones’s shouted retorts, or any of the individuals before him directly at all...
“You can’t single yourself out, bucko. As a wise yet stupid fellow once said in another time and space...”
“THERE ARE S’POSED TO BE FOUR PLAYERS.”
As it spoke this line of dialogue in the unresponsive Skiddo’s voice, Neo Skid’s limp body went rigid temporarily as his eye-textures flashed in loud colorful glitchmadness.
Meanwhile, Bones attempting to pierce through the claw arm with his venomous furious spikes worked, in a way, but definitely not to his favor. The Televisionary’s cords being pierced through made vicious kaleidoscopical and hardly perceivable electric-neon short-circuit sparks course through the pierced wires as they stiffened and jerked around a bit in various vaguely horrifying spasms, and the electricity would, in turn, course through the gripping claw as a secondary horrifying gnarled cord-limb snaked upwards as a secondary backup and additionally attached its own claw to Bones’s head. The metaphysical-electricitally-malfunctional result would unfortunately feel like a rather rough and disorienting existential crisis of a disassociative electric shock and, by extension, would make the journey of tele-relocation to the intended destination a far rougher trip for Bones than the others. And, especially taking his terrified fight-till-the-end nature into account, might make the process take a little bit longer for him especially. It might even leave him a bit more out of it than the others when he woke back up.
...And because the television monitor screens on the Televisionary are metaphorical squares of bright transdimensional light, the spikes piercing through those was like as if spikes had pierced through some kind of intensely concentrated holographication. It didn’t have much of an effect in that specific case, unfortunately. (And notably, this time, Pumpking’s humorous one-liner did not earn a disembodied laugh-track.)
After a bit of a pause of a falter, the colossal multi-TV critter continues its obligatory dialogue stream, its voice stretching out and spiralling into a disorienting, echoing taper-off into the rapidly fading reality amongst the four designated protagonists.
“NOW, Let the games begin!! We will see the lot of this lovely cast of primary characters, folks, on the other side...after the commercial break. We’ll be right back!”
Just before the visions and consciousnesses would fade completely to white for the Bones and the Pumpking, they might see the world around slowly seeming to deconstruct eerily into angular polygonal green and black outlines, ones and zeroes, with all kinds of dark staticky ameboalike and formshifting critters abounding around and along the outer edges of their lines of sight...critters with dead eyes and translucent forms and and faces that screamed when they looked at you.
And after THAT...after all went white, and all faded out and then back into conscious existence...
The two pairs of individuals would thus awake in a very odd place, a place that was seemingly in the midst of the process of “drawing” its 3D pixellated-angular graphics into the still-constructing around them in a very Super-Paper-Mario Esque sort of way...but something would feel off, and very peculiar. Why? Well, because all four of them would, in fact, awaken very much separated from their usual partners. Their partners’ presences could be felt close-by, perhaps, but they are just simply...not there before them. Not viewable, not tangible, not seeable. To be precise: Pump would awaken next to Pumpking, lying down flat on his back on the slowly-retexturizing and recolorizing unfamiliar ground, eyes all staticky and blank at first, before blinking...sitting up, and rubbing his eyes, feeling disorientated and severely form-drippy and strange, trying to get his bearings.
And on the other hand, when Bones might finally awaken in this strange digitally constructivated pocket place that was now beginning to look like a bizarre simulated videogame-ish mixture between his own world and the Neo World, one of the first things he’d see is the curious face of a neo Skiddo leaning in inches away from his own face, the cyan glowchild peering into his eyes and tilting his head vaguely at odd angles like an inquisitive chipmunk. “HEY! HEY!! HEY!!!" The Skiddo would chirp at Bones.
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