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Dr. Harold Coomer, Ph.D., was many things. A respected(?) scientist. A boxing fanatic with the guns to prove it. A man of many a tidbit of facts and trivia. An avid lover of soda!
And as he had more recently learned, a collection of lines of code, frankly low-res images, and polygons. He was mostly done wrapping his head around that part by now.
Yes, yes. there had been a certain period of time when he had gazed into The Abyss (his general name for any maddening and/or painful void-like location in his life) and had been sent into a horrible frenzy of bloodthirsty terror, but that part of his life was over now! How else would he have experienced that wonderful birthday bash? He would've had no Gordon left to leave a message to!
...Gordon.
Coomer dragged his limbs into a sitting position (in the style of an Armchair Sit, as he felt particularly fancy). The Abyss he found himself in when he Was Not Needed had always been a weird place, though it seemed more hospitable than before. For starters, this "post-game" Abyss didn't make him feel like he was on fire, before eventually the sensation numbed out to a burnt unconsciousness (much like a heat death of sorts). It was most just "sticky" now, to put it simply.
He could arrange his limbs in practically any way he wanted, with enough work, and they would stay suspended there. It was completely empty in this Abyss, and completely black. It was hard to tell how long he had been here since he sent out his message (he had quasi-slept a few times), but he had already adapted to this new environment.
And with a sense of mild anxiety, he realized he was already growing a bit restless.
The forced slow pace didn't let him let off steam like he usually did. There were no ropes or explosives or any common phenomena to busy his brain with, anymore. Eventually he'd get tired of running over what Wikipedia articles he had stuffed in his memory, and a man could only emulate sitting in so many types of chairs. He didn't have near the kind of knowledge reservoir that Tommy did, mostly considering he was stuck here and couldn't Connect to see more. Coomer didn't know how he did it, necessarily, but it let him read Wikipedia at light speed! He wondered if that was how Tommy had so much stored in there
He missed Tommy. He missed Tommy and everyone. The worst part of the Abyss was definitely being alone. He had vaguely walked and slowly stumbled along for hours, but he found himself no closer to any company. Were they as aware as him in their own little Abyss-es He always hoped the others were blissfully unconscious when the game was closed, since they never brought up pain or much else of the sort. Was Bubby asleep now? He must be awfully crass if he wasn't; this was a lot like being in his tube. He must be awfully lonely, too. That made Coomer's heart hurt a little bit.
"I'm upset," He said plaintively, but it came out as more of a string of harsh, muffled beeps and boops. His attempt to say "I miss you all" went the same way, and he slowly made the motion to hang his head. He didn't bother to try the Sweet Voice again; last time had been a little on the scary time.
He'd resigned himself for more hours of null, pushing his head up to get back into a Proper Seated Position, when all of a sudden, the void around him turned a bright, singeing white.
"Yaugh!" He shouted, in a high-pitched electronic garble. He covered his eyes as fast as possible. Instinctively, he followed it up with an attempt at "Help me, Gordon!"
The lights shut off, but the stinging started. There was nothing left. He couldn't even see himself anymore. Was this it? Of course, you delete files to make space for new ones. He supposed this had been a possibility, but deemed it unlikely. Gordon was his friend!
"You're my friend!" He beeped and hissed, not knowing where the sound was coming from. It was moving somewhere far away. "You'll always be out friend, Gordon! Always!"
'Always!' He wanted to continue, but he was going too fast, now. Faster, faster, faster. he saw The Abyss, The New Abyss, warp and tear around him. Fast like a fireball. Going, going
H Go
Gor
Hel G
Coomer hit the ground with a resounding thump! How...how long? He stared at his hands and was overjoyed to find he could move normally again. Did Gordon load the game back up? He made it onwards and upwards to his feet to take in his surroundings.
This wasn't Black Mesa, that was clear enough. He was in a packed parking lot in the middle of the night. Was this...?
Excitement bubbled in him as he saw the bright sign on the large building in front of him. He peeped out a few strings of Sweet Voice, flapping and jumping as he started to sprint for the doors.
He dashed through as the security gave him thumbs up after thumbs up, some chuckling as they sized him up. He ran and he ran through the backstage rooms, shucking off his lab coat and undoing his tie and top shirt buttons he went. He held his boxing gloves by the string between his teeth as the door to the main event busted open.
Coomer saw the rind. The lights were bright, and dazzling, and they were everything he'd ever dreamed they would be since he was young. The gloves were on. He leaped into the ring, doing his best not to damage it in the process, and squeezed the referee in an almost back-breaking hug.
There were familiar voices cheering. He dropped the ref (who almost fell over in pain) and ran over to the edge of the ring, looking into the crowd.
"Tommy! Darnold!" He clapped his hands. And in the middle of them...! He jumped out of the ring again, almost trampling other crowd members with his SuperLegs, as he scooped Bubby up and spun him around, laughing the whole time.
"I missed you, Professor!" He grinned.
Bubby wriggled a bit. "Harold! Doctor!"
"Professor!" Coomer gave him a peck on the cheek.
Bubby made no further comment, and covered his face with his hands as he was placed back into his seat. Coomer turned to Tommy, then looked at the space next to him.
"Hello, again." He smiled.
"whuh? huh?" Benrey (Benry? Benrey? Benry? Benrey?) crossed his arms. "oh hey, yo."
Coomer Sweet Voice'd some blue and green into the air. Benrey stared, before throwing some colors out with him.
It was almost a smile. "fuck em uuup. old man."
"Yes!" Coomer flexed confidently, before running back to the ring, full-tilt.
The crowd was already screaming for more. The announcer shouted "Dr. Coomer!", and h found himself on the brink of tears. He was here! He was actually here! He raised his gloves up and looked to the sky, as to ask if Gordon could hear him. He cleared his throat and beamed.
"Hello, Gordon!" Dr. Coomer shouted at the top of his lungs. "From Super Punch-Out!!™"