A diamond acquired deep in a jewel thief's career delights him less than a hunk of pyrite early on, is something that is unlikely to be true, but the gist is clear enough. The officers and crusaders rode a few laps around Divine Providence's menus to mark their territory. They suffused the area with both the memory of their coming and paint, and afterward made for their base in spirits higher than Tiboleus the Experimenter's Attack.

“My Attack's pretty high! Neo-Axander Principle!” an Eclipse Warper shouted somewhere far away, where a New Eclipse Dragon suffered the consequences of all that experimentation.

The journey to the outpost ended before some realized it had begun. Not only did songs and laughter mask the passing of time, but the red road disguised the distance traveled whereas the unadorned, light blue floor not only exposed but magnified the extent of the world below in the imagination.

The triumphant characters parked their motorcycles and submersibles, jumped off, and paraded into the vault, a pyramid parade in which most of them supported some of them who held up one single Skaya, mop included. They let her down to deposit the mop in a glass case, and then they bowed to the first symbol of conquest. Any other trophy would have impressed visitors more, but not provoked the same feeling of solidarity. The man who bows to a mop along with you is your brother forever after.

The host rested in the outpost only long enough to erect its divination statue and topple it again. The statue pointed in a direction thirty degrees from the red streak, and a green line soon extended that way. It grew in length second by second. Tires screeched, rockets ejected blue flames, and Dalmation legs turned into circles that suggested running while being much cheaper to animate.

Lacking a stat for it, the drivers decided to check if their vehicular skills had improved by attempting to time their honks to recreate Y***** theme songs. The landmada had managed to coordinate the entire set of horns and the voices of the riders to belt out a perfect “On the field!” when Manyana, from her position atop a zeppelin, called “Menu starboard!” Every driver, without discussion and without exception, tried to spin around and stop just short of the nearest button while pointing back at the outpost. None managed it, but Heartful Azalea came closest and won an award for best driver in the army that would be represented by a trophy or ribbon as soon as they stole one.

During the award ceremony, low-concentration officers such as Azalea herself perused the options. “Pin Reset Animation. On. Off. Hey, is this Everyday Pin?” No speech by Demosthenes or Cicero ever went over as well as that one did. Empty buildings with no real loot may have been fun for number-lovers like Zimley Boe, whom everyone remembered as wearing glasses even though she did not, but the common man wanted to roll balls down a lane and have fireworks explode all over if he got a strike. Furthermore, if any game had a trophy to hand Azalea, it was Everyday Pin.

Never before had so many ants infiltrated so many pants, at least in the lands below. Metatron deemed it wise to remind the invaders to rope up properly. He nagged Yvain in particular, whose umbrage melted when he tugged his rope once in demonstration and watched it fall to his feet. “What happened to the distinction between crusaders and their namesakes? He's as forgetful as the knight in the story,” Kint N. Bredle objected.

“Ah no, ah no,” Vainamoinen said. “'Tis not that he forgets, but that his tying of knots is poor. The gauntlets, mind, the gauntlets.”

That observation reminded the wearers of fashionable gloves and intimidating gauntlets to reinspect their work. Burmin Trivvis's accustomed caution spared him any problems, and Inorrea Vacationer's single fingerless glove impeded fine manipulations not at all, as expected of a career thief. Dr. Stezlinstein asked Gaelvry Bride for help, mad scientist gloves being what they were, but she did so before Metatron said anything, just as she had back at Divine Providence. Precautions taken, the vandals hopped on Back.

Pins! Balls! Shoes! Everyday Pin had it all, and they had reached Everyday Pin. The clatter of vanquished pins reached their ears even from the parking lot outside the starter alley, and the display over the entrance which displayed pins outlined in blinking lights showed the proprietor preferred good fun to good taste.

The newcomers shared the same priorities save perhaps Darlotte Glofal, unless her refined appearance created an impression at odds with her personality. Whatever the reality, she too accompanied the bold conquerors as they streamed through the double doors with no consideration for whether all of them would fit inside, any more than the Nile worries about how Egypt is going to feel about it, and flooded the counter to threaten the personnel and rent some shoes.

Before they decided in which order to perform those actions, the locals interdicted them. Broad shoulders stretching a purple suit! A facial scar that implied criminal activities! A bowling ball! Pinzaburo confronted the host. “Hey you! Never known you to come around here before.” He bent over, hands in his pockets or else a bowling ball depending on the hand, and squinted while he examined their faces, though not all of them owing to time constraints. “And I know everyone and everything about this place, because I'm Pinzaburo! So don't think you can fool me. You bunch look to me like,” this an inch from Mentor Tendradius Pux's goggles, “bowlers.”

“Affirmative,” Tendradius responded.

“Good answer. Don't try to put anything over on Pinzaburo. Mike! Get some shoes and balls on these guys, courtesy of me, Pinzaburo, and we'll see what they're all about.”

A challenge from the natives! All the travails, sacrifices, and daring of the officers and crusaders there at last found their reward. Even had all those UTASes and ice cream trucks cost twice as much, they would have then sent messages back through time to tell their old selves to pay it if they could. As it was, they believed themselves to have defrauded the sellers who sat on piles of claws and feathers but lacked the means to enter other games.

They collected their paraphernalia and distributed themselves across the lanes of the alley, which extended infinitely in either direction for the accommodation of large crowds at peak hours. They went by Blaster Gilliam as expected, and tiny little Jill Jenkins, too. McTavish, however, did not suffer them to pass without daring one among them to face him head-to-head. Ivar answered the call of death's lane, the hall of pins and chaos, and threw right-handed while McTavish reached below his kilt with both hands to roll his ball in accordance with Everyday Pin's cartoon aesthetic.

Ivar had heard of strikes and open frames before, but McTavish knew bowling. The first contest between Holy Legend Army and Everyday Pin went badly for the former from the beginning though a mere 3* represented the latter. What could be expected when 5* Tasuke the Firefighter invited Dr. Stezlinstein to relax with a friendly competition after a presumed long day of life-saving work? Tasuke shot balls out of the hose he hoisted for one strike after another while Winze G. Stezlin, Halloween edition, switched hands every frame, unsure whether she was a righty or a lefty as the issue never came up back home.

Whichever between Chef Winona and Heartful Azalea used the kitchen better, the lanes recognized one as a true artiste and the other as a buman with more verve than skill. Hilliarde Feablas left the perquisites of his noble title back in Arvenne, but the Emperor of Bowling enjoyed every last one of his, along with an early 19th-century military uniform plus a ball-shooting cannon to go with it. Merlin's wizardry showed him accurately but not helpfully which split he would fail to pick up next. His opponent, a little gray fellow named Tourist, demonstrated the wizardry of the future by psychically manipulating his ball into spare after strike.

The only victory the joint forces of Commandment of Hero and Holy Legend Army claimed was won by forfeit, when the match between The King and Darlotte Glofal ended in disgrace. The Queen made her apologies for the interruption while she dragged her husband off after the first frame, demanding to know what he thought he was doing by challenging that guest specifically, with her starlet looks and irresistible pout, and what would The Princess think, not to mention their neighbor the Emperor of Bowling, I mean really.

The humiliation that attends abject failure opted not to show up for once. “What did you expect?” it asked when called to explain its absence. Besides, who had time for humiliation when pins needed to be knocked down, sandwiches had been prepared, and every step gave a small thrill?

“Is it just me because it sometimes is but do you feel a small thrill with every step, because I do,” North Pole Azinsia said.

“Your bowling shoes are the wrong size, dear.” Luau Lua guided her back to the counter where Mike helped her out.

Elsewhere around the alley, the locals encouraged the novices and advised them on their form without getting pushy about it. They also elicited information about their guests' origins and how they came to be there.

“An endless plain with nothing but options. How dreadful yet exciting,” The Princess remarked as she finished off a perfect game. “It makes one think of thousand-pin bowling, or even million-pin, does it not?”

Asmodeus admitted it had not before but did then. “Metatron, my understanding of logistics yields to yours. Do we have, in your judgment, the manpower required to run a game of million-pin bowling at a brisk pace?”

“Define brisk pace. Lacking that, I recommend restricting pin counts to three hundred.”

“Oh, you are a sort of a ghost angel, and very splendid. What an intriguing design. Shall we ever have a collaboration, do you think?”

“Huh? You're saying we aren't having one right now?” Pinzaburo broke in. “I say we're collaborating just fine as it is. There is one little problem I notice though, which is that these officers and crusaders haven't been to the other alleys yet. Follow me!” He moseyed out past Mike, and the bowlers and foreigners not busy with a big tenth followed him across the parking lot to a red-bricked establishment on the other side.