Story TROGGO Episode III: The Final Update (Part 1)

From our previous story [1] [2]...

Summary: It has been two years since Inspector Troggo first investigated the mysterious death of the Hardcore Games, once a server of Brawl Nation. Troggo then became a world famous pimp, only to fade into oblivion when no one on Brawl Nation could remember who the f*ck he was. With the fast action of the enigmatic detective 'T', Brawl Nation was saved from certain demise. But it was not long for the server to fall on hard times again. Why is Brawl dying? Who is causing it? And can they be brought to justice? A new team has arrived on the scene at Brawl Nation to answer these questions. But they are off to a bad start, Superintendent Putty, who has seen Brawl Nation through many storms - and just as many pairs of shoes - has resigned himself to a lifetime of Fortnite and VR Porn. Things, already bad, take a turn for the worse when the terrorist group ANGST call Brawl Nation headquarters with a single demand: revert WarZ... or die. Without the dependable chief guiding the investigation, can the team get to the bottom of Brawl's demise and can they do it before the killer strikes again?

This is where our story begins. And where the trilogy ends

TROGGO Episode III: The Final Update

Part 1
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Tom was exhausted. Of course, this wasn't unusual for him but today had been considerably more tiring than usual. And he hadn't the foggiest idea why. Maybe it was the reality of being a detective in a task force of nothing. Maybe that was the issue. Tom shrugged, who knew?

He was, however, upset. He had a row with one of his good friends. Munson... that would take time to get over. Munson had said something offensive to him one evening and then insisted that he'd meant it for someone else. But Tom was no fool. He had achieved straight C's in Maths - and if that isn't an indication of Big Brain Intelligence nothing is. Tom decided to call Munson out...

"Tom you have no idea what you're talking about..." Munson said tiredly, reaching for his bong and taking a hit. He sighed and leaned back, relaxed by the weed. Munson wasn't a smoking man but what's a dank MEMER without some dank WEED?

"Munson..." Tom said, "I know you told me I was no good at spin the bottle but I AM okay? Why do you keep saying you didn't say that -"

"Alright, alright, alright." Munson said, waving him away. "You aren't good at spin the bottle tom. In fact, you're lousy. Dreadful. Do you know how many grills I've f*cked thanks to my bottle spinning technique?"

"But you're a virgin."

"You don't know that," Munson said irritably, "You don't have a monopoly on my life. And besides, you could barely twirl the bottle let alone spin it -"

"Yeah." Tom said, "But you're a virgin."

"Okay you know what, I AM DONE WITH THIS TOM." Munson yelled. "I AM SICK AND TIRED OF YOU CALLING ME A VIRGIN WITH THAT STUPID SMIRK ON YOUR FACE. IT'S NOT MY FAULT I WAS HOMESCHOOLED. IT'S NOT MY FAULT I GOT BULLIED BY GIRLS IN MIDDLE SCHOOL. OK? IT'S NOT MY FAULT I HAVE TO POST NUDES ON THE INTERNET BECAUSE IT'S THE CLOSEST I'LL EVER GET TO ACTUAL SEX." Munson stood up and took another hit. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. Munson sighed and continued, "I didn't come here to be called a virgin again Tom. I am done with you Forehead man. You understand? DONE!"

Tom sat, bewildered as Munson stormed out the door, slamming it in his wake.

Tom had absolutely no idea what he had done to deserve such comments, but that was Munson's problem not his. As the saying went, if one insists on being a twatwaffle the best thing to do is to let them be a twatwaffle. And he could do it on his own time. Indeed, Tom had formally cut things off with his reclusive friend right there much to his friend's chagrin. Munson had offered an 'apology' for his actions - not personally of course but by email. Tom did a quick search for the word 'sorry' in the apology and, not finding it, closed the email.

How do you write an apology without the word 'sorry'?

That would be like suggesting that one read a book without actually telling them to read it. And why the ambigious language anyway? If he was really sorry he'd say 'I'm sorry O Great Lord Tom Please God Forgive Me' - or at least the first two words. Tom smiled, Munson wasn't much of a friend but he'd be an excellent politician. Oh well, Tom thought, he couldn't spend all day thinking about drama. Most of the day was enough. But today, Tom decided, would be the day where he would have a drama-free morning. He would get out of bed. He would take his shower. He would brush his forehead. And he would eat his cornflakes. All without interruption.

a few inches later...

Tom walked into the dining room of his one person flat, fresh out of the shower. His forehead had never been cleaner and he felt fresh. Now he would eat his cornflakes and then he would leave. It was a much practiced routine he had developed to manage life on his own. Tom had recently moved out and the first few weeks had been chaos. His flat had been the only thing messier than his office, and that was jam packed with ban appeals from Idiocy & Stupid - the law firm that handled appeals from banned players. However, after watching ten episodes of Martha Stewart and the purchase of a hoover Tom felt prepared to be the man of the house. And the results were promising. Most of the grime had been cleaned off the kitchen floor, the oven worked occasionally, and the dining table now had space for one plate. One!

Tom pulled the cornflakes, Kellogg's Finest, out of the cuboard (how the f*ck do you spell this lol), added milk and began to eat. He found the remote in a pile of socks - he was slightly behind on the washing - and turned on the TV.

Announcer: Good morning I'm Tobias Brent and welcome to BBC Morning News. Brexit negotiations began again this week with Prime Minister Theresa May attempting to sway a divided parliament to accept her deal. In yet another example of 'I don't know what the f*ck I'm doing' the Prime Minister characterized this deal as a a do or die moment for parliament. Either they accept her deal, or they get no deal at all.

Announcer 2: Unless there's a general election

Announcer 3: Or a second referendum

Tobias Brent: Right you are Jeremy. And you too Alice.

Alice: I'm right?

Tobias Brent: Occasionally

Alice: *laughs* Well Toby, do you think there's a real chance of a general election by the next session of parliament?

Tobias Brent: You mean do I think there's a real chance of Jeremy Corbyn becoming Prime Minister in that time period?

Announcer 3: Uhm excuse me Toby but I haven't gotten to say anything yet...

Tobias Brent: For those of you listening this is our correspondent from Parliament, Boris 'Hot Totty' Johnson, former Secretary of State, Mayor of London and Notorious Incompetent. His most notable achievement is getting out of bed in the morning, with the runner up being 'Forming complete sentences'. Aliens once visited his house, reporting 'No signs of intelligent life'. Boris, what do you have to say on this matter?

Boris Johnson: Thank you Toby. Now, I was going to mention Nigel Farage-

*set erupts in laughter*

Tom reached for the remote and turned off the TV. The Brexit fiasco made him want to burst into a chorus of OHHHHH JEREMY CORBYNNNN. Sure, Corbyn's Brexit plan was so muddled with ambiguity even he didn't know what it was, but Tom was certain it couldn't get any worse than Ms. Strong and Stable leading Britain to the brink. Tom shook his head and finished his cornflakes. He could focus on Brexit another day. Today he had other matters to attend to - starting with Brawl.

Brawl, or as it was better known, Brawl Nation, was a multinational server catering to the needs of insecure teenagers everywhere. Tom had been with Brawl Nation for some time. Ah yes, it had been seven years since he set foot at Brawl Nation, only to be repeatedly banned until someone realized the unbelievable amount of intelligence it takes to get C's on British GCSE's. And just like that, Tom had become a member of an elite taskforce, charged with ensuring the safety and protection of Brawl Nation. They were known as the Brawl Task Force - although Tom had suggested changing the acronym to WTF (What Task Force ?) because of recent resignations.

Tom, lost in his thoughts, barely noticed as his Apple iphone XR White (brought to you by T-Mobile) rang. He picked it up and glanced at the number. 7450, it was Matt. Matt Versions was a task force detective and good friend of his. Although young, he was mature for his age. When Matt called, Tom knew it was serious.

"Tom here, is that you Matt?"

"Yeah. We've got a problem."

Tom nodded. "I'm on my way."

To be continued...

Characters:
@Lord_Roke as Superintendent Felix Roke
@Miskey as Chief Inspector Mike Miskey
@SoCool21 as Inspector Tom Forehead
@Trogy as Inspector Andreas Troggo (deceased)
@Versions as Detective Matt Versions
@chickenputty as ex-Superintendent Arnold Putty
@Admyral_Mynson as ex-Inspector Calvin Munson
@xGhale as Gareth Edgeware
@Removers (banned LUL) as ex-Detective James Cringemere