Ruining Moomin | Episode 2

Narrator: Snufkin has put up his tent on the riverbank. He likes being on his own, as he was warned too much contact with non-believers will displease our lady, Lord Groke. He likes to be happy and at peace with the world, knowing that one day it will be in the Groke’s icy safe embrace. However, he thinks that his friends may be ready to know, and follow… Moomin: Snufkin? Little My: Snufkin, where are you? As my future husband, you can’t be running off like this. Snork Maiden: How can enjoy being out here on his own? Isn’t he afraid of bugs and snakes, or wild animals? I know I’d be afraid to be out at night considering they never did find that magician that went missing. Moomin: Snufkin says he likes being alone. Snork Maiden: Well, we can’t worry about our friend that’s been missing for 32 hours now. we have to get to the beach. Sniff: “Hey!” Little My: “It’s Sniff.” “Where are you guys going?” Moomin: “Oh, I envy Snufkin.” So, Moomin and pals go to the beach to collect seashells, because as established, there is so little to do around here, it hurts. Moomin: I wonder where Snufkin has gone? Sniff: “I wonder if we’ll ever find anything as exciting as the hat.” Moomin: Sniff, that’s not what I was talking about, and that was a week ago. Sniff: Do you think that Olaf in Frozen has meat eyes? Moomin: Meat eye-? Sniff, what are you talking about? Sniff: “Perhaps I’ll find an oyster with a huge pearl inside!” Then Moomin falls asleep and wakes up on a cotton candy cloud, where his forest hippie husbando is waiting for him. Sadly, he is woken by the local gremlin. Little My: Moomin: Oh no! Then Snork will be the last of their species, and no one wants to reproduce with him! So, the Sand Guardian, guardian of the sand, has dug a hole in the beach, and Snorkmaiden was foolish enough to disturb it. Moomin uses this opprotunity to in an attempt to murder Sniff. Moomin: “You better get in there Sniff!” Sand Guardian, the Ant Lion threatens to kill her, but they get her out without Sniff dying, …I mean, unfortunately. and no files are charged. Even though he seems to be a sapient being. That night, guess who returns! [STUDIO AUDIENCE APPLAUSE] Moomin: Snufkin, where have you been? Snufkin: Moomin, we gotta get the hat back. Moomin: How come? Snufkin: DNA evidence, Moomin. The Moominvalley police took a few decades, but they finally got forensics. We gotta get it back, we have to burn it and then flush the ashes, and we’re in this together, don’t turn chickenshit on me now. Little My: Is that my future husband?! What is my precious Snufkin doing out here with Moomin this late at night? Snufkin: Oh, jeez, there was more magician scalp leftover in there than I thought. Moomin, go get it for me, I can’t afford to rub anymore of my fingerprints on that thing. Snufkin: What the literal fuck is that boy doing? Moomin: Hmm, tastes like spoons. Snufkin: Why won’t this thing burn?! Moomin: I know! It’s useless now that I drank all the red stuff. Well, consumption of the blood of a sacrifice is part of the initiation, so you’re almost there. Moomin: [yawn] Moominmama: What’s the matter, Moomin? You look very tired. Moomin: Turns out blood drinking isn’t very good for you. And yet I crave more. Little My: You idiot, Snufkin will never love someone like you. Moomin: What are you talking about? Little My: I saw you two last night, out walking by the river under the moonlight. Snufkin may think he’s into a squishy cute bad boy, but we know who will win in the end. So, I just thought you should know. Look, I have to go, but I seriously suggest looking into your family tree. Little My: I told you, we only vaguely look alike! We’re not related, so it’s not weird! Moomin: Google yourself, My! Moominpapa: What in god’s name are you people doing while I’m not around? Snufkin: Aah, the sea, I’m sure glad a metaphor for nuclear war never took it away from me. Moomin: Snufkin! Snufkin: Guess what, I found out off-screen whose hat it really is. Moomin: Whose?! Snufkin: The Hobgoblin’s. Moomin: The Hobgoblin’s?! Who is the Hobgoblin? Snufkin: A dangerous man who wanders the land, opposing everything Lord Groke stands for. I took the hat to The Hemeulan, and he told me that the Hobgoblin’s hat has been missing for ages, and that’s why it reeks of the drug-addled people that frequently buy and sell on the black market, not that he partakes in that kind of thing, and does not have a stolen Disney World animatronic in his basement that he paid thirty thousand dollars for, he says. The point is the magician I buried in the desert deserved it because the black market is bad, and that’s what I’ll keep telling myself until I die! Moomin: It does smell like my uncle’s house. Hey, doesn’t that Hobgoblin guy fly around on a panther or something? Snufkin: Yes! It doesn’t really add up, but I’m some kind of hybrid between a person-thing and a cat person-thing that just looks like a stylized human boy, and yet I’m not, so adding up isn’t exactly top priority around here. Moomin: Well, I suppose the polite thing to do would be to return it. Or. Better idea. We keep it and fuck around with that disheveled sand lion thing. Moomin: Hey! Sand Lion! You… smell… bad! Ant Lion: “No, I do not!” Ant Lion: I think you were supposed to have a line there. So, Moomin and Snufkin trick the Sand Guardian into digging himself inside of the hat, Little My shows up going through husbando withdraw, and they proceed to attempt to drown him, and then transform him into a hedgehog. “Hedgehog, hedgehog, hedgehog…” A change that does not get reversed, and unless he knows exactly how hedgehogs live, and what they eat, and how they protect themselves, I’m willing to bet he died within the day. Moominmama: Three other people live in this house and at least six other people just hang around it all day, and yet I’m the one doing all the manual labor. Can my husband help out? NO, of course not, he’s up in his damn study CREATING. Did my kid and that damn girl squatting in our house just pass by. God, I can’t even begin to care about what they’re doing. If they want to run around and cause themselves more problems, they can fuckin’ deal with it themselves. [“Somewhere That’s Green” being played on the harmonica] Snufkin: Moomin, I just saw the Hobgoblin. Snufkin: Oh, god! He’ll kill us all! Snufkin: No, it’s okay! We have the source of his power, and in his weakened state, he will be the most valuable sacrifice to Lord Groke, yet. I hope you hid that hat well. Moomin: It’s in the cellar. Snufkin: All is according to plan, Moomin. By this time tomorrow, you will be one of Groke’s Children and we can live out our days together in her the world. [Little My humming] Hmm? Thread? This will end with me getting exactly what I want and not go wrong. Snork Maiden: Oh god! Little Shop of Horrors is happening! And not the bullshit test audience cut either! Little My, what happened? Little My: I wished for a friend, and he came! Moominmama: Ooh, fruit. Let’s try it, it’s probably not poison. Moominpapa: Dear, don’t put magical fruit in your mouth. Moominmama: Dear, you have to try this. The universe is flowing with me in perfect harmony, the air is sweet, I can TASTE GOD. Moomin: OH, WHAT THE FUCK? Snufkin: Little My must have put something in the hat. Moomin: How do you know it was Little My? Snufkin: …Come on. Alright, here’s what we do. Owning a flamethrower is legal in Moominvalley, so I’m going to go get the one I already have, and- The Hobgoblin: That will be… unnecessary. [GASP!] Snufkin: I know what you are and I know what I must do. In what way do you choose to die? Hobgoblin: Your threats are not needed, I am not here to harm you. I simply wish to know if you have my hat. Snufkin: Moomin, get the axe. Moomin: Snufkin, shut the hell up, this guy looks like he could kill us 30 times before we hit the ground. Um! Mr. Hobgoblin, we have it, but just a fair warning, it smells like heroin and is just absolutely covered in blood. Hobgoblin: Regardless, I would still like it back, for it is the source of my power. I will remove these cursed branches from your lovely family home, for the misuse of my magic offends me greatly. Moominpapa: Well, Mr. Cobgoblin, here’s your hat back. Certainly no one here wants it! Snufkin: Give me the hat. Hobgoblin: I apologize greatly that it was my power that caused your family such pain and misfortune. Moominmama: How are you talking with all those little bugs crawling in and out of your mouth? Hobgoblin: While I am in your presence, you have not seen a large ruby around here, have you? It is a dangerous magical artifact that attracts the ice monster, The Groke. You would not want to be in possession of it, only I know how to control its true power. Moominmama: I… am not spinning- Hold on. Snufkin: Yes, perfect, give him a fake. We will have a gift for my icy Lord yet. Moominmama: My husband gave this to me. Hobgoblin: Let me see. Moominmama: I don’t want to alarm you, but your eyes are melting. Hobgoblin: Your husband is a very sweet man for giving you such a lovely gift, but unfortunately for me, it is not my ruby, the King’s Ruby. Moominmama: Don’t worry, if we see it, we’ll let you know. Also, send more of that fruit. Snufkin: Please let me kill him. Hobgoblin: Thank you, you have been very kind and you have a beautiful family. Come, flying panther. We must resume our search. Snufkin: Well, there goes your chance for salvation, everyone. I was hoping you all would be saved, but you all didn’t tackle him and bash his frontal lobe in like I asked. Moomin: I think you got it all wrong, Snufkin. We didn’t have to do anything like that. I think the Hobgoblin is just… a really nice guy. Narrator: And so the Moomins got some free wood, Snufkin didn’t take any lives this day, and for a few short hours, Moominmama felt true euphoria. So, that was yet another story about a hat. …With overused jokes about Snufkin being in a cult. [not the narrator anymore it’s just me, Misty] I promise leading to something, I swear to god, it’ll be so fulfilling. To me. Personally. And only me! The end… [“Somewhere That’s Green” on harmonica]

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