The Immortal Gazette: Moonlit Madness Strikes 4EverMore as Clocks Start Telling Jokes!
Moonlit Madness Strikes 4EverMore as Clocks Start Telling Jokes!
An Immortal Gazette Exclusive—Time Takes a Hilarious Turn
It was supposed to be just another normal moonlit night in 4EverMore—sapphire skies filled with whispers of magic and eternal stars blinking in the distance. But of course, in this realm, nothing ever stays normal for long.
This particular evening, the clocks of 4EverMore had decided they were no longer interested in simply ticking and tocking in the background of immortal lives. No. This time, they had something much more interesting in mind—jokes.
At the witches' gathering in Westbrook, the first sign of trouble came when the enchanted clock on the tower began to ring. Instead of the usual deep, reassuring chimes that marked the passage of time, a familiar voice rang out:
“Why don’t skeletons fight each other?”
The witches froze, their hands mid-air, casting spells or stirring bubbling cauldrons, and looked at each other with suspicion. They weren’t exactly known for being easily startled, but this was something new.
Before anyone could react, the clock chimed again—louder, more insistent:
“Because they don’t have the guts!”
Sonia Bloodthorn, who had been peacefully sipping her tea at the far side of the room, shot up, nearly knocking over her cup. "Did that clock just tell a joke?" she demanded, eyes narrowing.
“I’m pretty sure it did,” Seraphina Nightshade replied, deadpan, her hands still on her hips as she looked up toward the offending clock.
The witches exchanged bewildered looks, and then one of them—Cordillera, who wasn’t entirely ghost, but more of a spectral being—groaned. “This is too much. First the pixies, now jokes? What’s next, animated portraits telling us to ‘have a good day’?”
But the madness didn’t stop there. Throughout 4EverMore, clocks—whether on mantelpieces, in towers, or even those worn by the immortals themselves—began churning out more and more jokes, each worse than the last:
“Why don’t vampires ever get invited to parties?”
“Because they’re always a pain in the neck!”
“What’s a witch’s favorite class?”
“Spelling.”
“What do you call a cow in a spaceship?”
“An astronaut.”
Chaos erupted across the realm. Witches in Westbrook were laughing, groaning, and scrambling to figure out why their enchanted timepieces had suddenly become stand-up comedians. Some of the Day Walkers in Eclipsora were shaking their heads, not sure whether to be annoyed or amused at the endless barrage of terrible jokes.
“I’ve heard of cursed timepieces, but this is—this is something else,” Alice—the Mad Queen of Nonsense herself—quipped, looking particularly unbothered by the racket. “I’ve had better punchlines from a drunk pixie.” She leaned against a wall in Eclipsora, smirking as another joke rang out from the nearest clock:
“Why can’t you trust an atom?”
“Because they make up everything!”
Loki, who had been casually hanging around with Alice, raised an eyebrow at the jokes. “Well, that one’s not entirely inaccurate,” he said, clearly entertained. “But I think the realm’s collective sanity is being sacrificed for the sake of bad humor.”
Alice took a sip from her tea. “Oh, please, I’ve heard worse. At least it’s better than those cursed clocks that tell you the time when you’re not ready to hear it.” She then turned toward Loki, a wicked grin tugging at her lips. “Maybe you can make them stop, god of mischief. You have some experience with chaos, don’t you?”
“Why would I stop this?” Loki grinned, fully entertained by the absurdity. “It’s just the right level of madness for me.”
Meanwhile, in the City of Shadows, the clocks weren’t any better. Seraphina Nightshade—who, by the way, was seriously considering investing in a new timepiece—stormed through the streets as clock after clock continued the antics. One especially bold clock even blurted out mid-chime:
“What’s a witch’s favorite exercise?”
“Hex-ercise!”
“That’s it,” Seraphina muttered under her breath, “I’ll be tracking down the cursed enchantress who thought this was funny.” She started cracking her knuckles, clearly ready to handle the problem personally.
However, in the Red City, Beauty, who was just passing through, stopped dead in her tracks when a clock hanging from a lamppost announced:
“What do you call a fake noodle?”
“An impasta!”
Beauty raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard. “I swear, one more joke, and I’ll be throwing that clock into the nearest fire.”
But by this point, it was clear—there was no stopping the laughter that was now sweeping across 4EverMore. The clocks had clearly decided it was their time to shine, and the realm was just going to have to deal with it.
Finally, after hours of jokes that bordered on ridiculous and unbearable, the clocks all fell silent, leaving 4EverMore in an oddly peaceful, though slightly dizzying, stillness.
“That was…” Sonia began, eyes scanning the now-silent town square, “something.” She rubbed her temples. “You know, I’d say it was fun, but I’ve got enough punny memories to last a lifetime.”
“Well,” Seraphina said, as she tried to suppress her smile, “at least we have a story to tell for centuries.”
And, just like that, the clocks went back to being ordinary timepieces—for now. But who knew when the next bout of moonlit madness would strike again? Only time would tell.
🖋️✨📜🖤
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