What Happens At The End Of Otis, The Jumping Hairy Eyeball?

When I was six years old, I became an actual dummy after playing a silly game with my older sister, Hannah Hubbard. My mental age is stuck at six years old. Because of that, my grandma receives a huge shock, causing her condition to deteriorate. Since then, Hannah has completely transformed into a brand new person. Thanks to her scholarship and her efforts to collect and sell trash, Grandma and I are able to survive under her care. Hannah is such a prideful person, and yet when her classmates call her stupid nicknames, she doesn't get mad at them at all. But if anyone is to call me an idiot, Hannah will seek justice for me no matter what. That night, Hannah gathers me in her arms while crying soundlessly. "My Oliver isn't an idiot at all. You just haven't grown up yet. Oliver, promise me that you will never leave me, okay?" I just nod blankly. For the next three years, I cling to her like glue. That is, until Blake Mueller appears in our lives. When I'm done playing with the mud, I forget to wash my hands, so I accidentally soil Blake's white shirt with my soiled hands. That's when Hannah suddenly breaks down emotionally and kicks me out of the house. "Oliver Hubbard, you've dragged me down my whole life! Are you going to cause trouble for Blake as well? Can you please be more understanding and stop causing more trouble for me?" Finally, an idea sparks inside my dim-witted brain for once. It turns out that my existence brings nothing but misery to Hannah. So, I hide inside the casket Grandma has custom-ordered for herself. There, I close my eyes and begin counting down quietly. Three, two, one. Let the game begin.

After I got pulled into the horror game, my nearsightedness made everything blurry. I ended up treating the creepy girl in the blood-stained dress like my own daughter, the final boss like my husband, and the old creepy ghosts like my loving parents. The first time I met the boss, I grabbed his abs and said, “Nice body. Shame you’re kind of short.” He actually laughed in anger, picked up the severed head in his hand, put it back on his neck, and ground out, “I’m six-foot-one. Still think I’m short now?”

“Oops! You’ve run out of your happy days,” she sang. After the tragic death of Noah's family, his heart was adorned with eternal cracks. He finally found a reason to live. Noah Parker and the love of his life, Ella, are married now. One night, the hallucinations about his twin sister engulf him to an extent that Noah injures himself. An argument breaks out between him and Ella because he refuses to see a psychiatrist. In the middle of the night, Noah is awakened by a blinding light. He discovers that his wife is missing. Ella’s quest leads him to the forest surrounding the lakehouse. He passes out in the woods. Searching for his wife will leave Noah’s heart with even deeper cracks. Veiled truths. Everlasting wounds. Harrowing past.

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.

On the day my father died, his seven most trusted men all met violent deaths within the same twenty-four hours. Hugh Castillo sacrificed his legs to butcher the gang and put me in power. “Taz, don’t be scared. Those monsters are gone. You’re finally free.” In the years he lay paralyzed, I tried over a thousand experimental drugs and prayed at every church across the country. I hunted down every possible remedy, praying for just one that would bring him back to his feet. When Hugh learned of this, he swallowed a bottle of pills one night to end his life. After he was revived, he smiled and wiped the tears from my face. “Taz, I don’t want to be a dead weight. You deserve a better life than this.” That night, we held each other and wept. We swore that from then on, no matter what, we would never leave each other behind. But seven years later, a sweet-looking girl showed up at my door with a thousand photos I was never meant to see. “Every month, while you were praying to God in churches, Huey was busy trying out new positions with me. “Ms. Sheargold, don’t you know that used goods like you kill a man’s desire? It was no wonder he’d rather play the cripple than touch you.” I looked through every single photo, then put them up for auction underground.