Mutation 4: Did you ever get that feeling of déjà vue? Did you ever get that feeling of déjà vue?

And then everything went blue.

"Good day, how may I serve you?" asked Gillian.

"Hello, my friend. Stay awhile and listen," said Cain the Elder.

"Cain! Shut it!" yelled Griswold.

"You shut up, Blacksmith!" yelled Cain in reply.

"Don't make me come over there!"

"Try me!" challenged Cain.

Griswold grabbed a battle axe and charged the old sage. He had only covered half the distance between them when Cain conveniently remembered one of the forgotten Horadrim spells.

Pepin fainted dead away as the Doom Serpents gobbled Griswold. Nikkin, Purple, Grand Fromage and Jack'Al just stared in shock.

"What the hell are you looking at?!" demanded Cain.

"Nothing," the group said in unison.

It was then that Wirt, everybody's best weapons practise dummy, came hobbling, dragging his peg leg through the long grass. He looked terrified. He was, in fact, more terrified than he'd ever been before in his short, self-centered life. Oh, he'd certainly been scared when the scores of rogues, mages and burly warriors had threatened to kill him over the over-inflated prices of his wares, but this was different. This was something he couldn't talk his way out of. He needed help.

Everyone ignored him as he reached the square. He frowned. He wailed. He hopped up and down on his good leg. "Hey!" he whined. Everyone turned to stare at him. Even the Horned Demon. "Listen up! This is important! The Boojum . . . it's, it's gone . . . insane . . ."

And then everything went blue.

"Good day, how may I serve you?" asked Gillian.

"Can't a fella drink in peace?" complained Farnham.

"Greetings, Good Master. Welcome to Eeeeaaarrrrgghhh!" This time the Doom Serpents took great bloody bites out of Ogden, and Griswold rushed to finish him off with his axe.

Pepin fainted dead away and Purple, Sugar and Lord Cool just stared in shock.

"What the hell are you looking at?!" demanded Cain and Griswold in unison.

"Nothing," the group said, also in unison.

It was then that Wirt, everybody's favorite weapons practice dummy, came hobbling, dragging his peg leg through the short grass. He looked scared. He was, in fact, more scared than he'd ever been before in his short, selfish life. Oh, he'd certainly been terrified when the dozens of bards, monks and massive barbarians had threatened to maim him over the poor quality of his wares, but this was different. This was something he couldn't talk his way out of. He needed assistance.

Everyone ignored him as he reached the square. He shouted. He panted. He hopped up and down on his peg leg. "Hey!" he whined. Everyone turned to stare at him. Even Hrrarrgrrsh-chutt. "Listen up! This is important! The Boojum ... it's, it's gone ... insane ..."

And then everything went blue again.

"Good day, how may I serve you?" asked Red Vex.

"Hello, my friend, welcome to the Tavern of the Rising Sun," said Cogden.

"I sense a soul in search of a peace," said Farndria.

"Foolish mortal, what ken I do fer ye?" offered Lazarwold.

Conjurer Ichabod raised his visor and scratched his head in confusion. Something was wrong. Red Vex would never ask, "How may I serve you?"

Suddenly, Farmer Pepster screamed and burst into flames as Diablo exploded from the scorched earth. "Honey bunny! I'm home!" bellowed the Lord of Terror.

Purple and Stupidhead the Weak just stared in shock.

"What the hell are you looking at?!" demanded Diablo.

"Nothing," the two said in unison.

It was then that Wirt, everybody's favorite baloney sandwich, came hopping, carrying his peg leg through the Kentucky bluegrass. He looked exhausted. This was the third time he'd had to hobble all the way from his tree to the Town Square. No wonder people were always so pissed off when they came to see him. He felt like he was going to throw up, but he needed a massage.

Everyone ignored him as he reached the square. He sang. He did some card tricks. He hopped up and down on a squirrel. "Hey!" he whined. Everyone turned to stare at him. Even Hrrarrgrrsh-chutt. "Listen up! This is important! The Boojum . . . it's, it's gone . . . insane . . ."

"Well duh," thought Ichabod. If he didn't do something soon, he, Tristram and everyone in it would be scrambled beyond hope. He took a quick inventory of his surroundings: He saw Purple and Stupidhead the Weak standing in the fountain. Hrrarrgrrsh-chutt was trying to extract venom from the puppy Deathspit as Lord Cool and Sugar looked on. The mighty Biff was already battling the strangely limp-wristed Diablo.

Hopefully not too many more people would lag out. He'd need all the help he could get.

The world went blue again and restored to its increasingly corrupted last save.