The following are the only known recorded history to survive Lidsville. No one knows their origin, but intelligent individuals know not to ask.

 

 

A lesser man than Mark surely could not have survived the first night surrounded by waking nightmares.

What little knowledge we do have about Lidsville comes mostly from the writings of Mark, the only known human to step foot into the world of living hats.

(An entry from Mark’s Journal)

 

Day 1

 

Why did I go in the hat? The second it began to grow, I knew it was trouble. I was terrified! But it was like a train wreck…in that once it hits you, you die and are sent to a place of unimaginable suffering.

 

Before the horror of this place could even truly set in, I was captured by a band of bad hats. Oh lord, I’m already making hat puns. Lord have mercy on my soul. After accusing me of being a spy, the pirate, vampire, gangster and executioner dragged me to an enormous top hat, and introduced me to Raunchy Rabbit. Raunchy seems to have difficulty communicating without the use of puns, pratfalls and generally bad jokes. Can’t say I blame him, this place could easily warp a fragile mind.

 

Then a gaudy, green-skinned Wizard of Oz reject arrived in a flying hat, complaining about “the hat people” and complaining that he didn’t even collect one hat check.

 

I already hated that man.

 

His name, which I would come to both know and fear, was Horatio J. Hoodoo. Just like his bad hats, Hoodoo accused me of being a spy. I tried to explain that I didn’t know any hat people, thinking this was some jive talk I hadn’t heard before. Hoodoo was skeptical and brought me into his lair, seating me in the most comfortable chair he could find in order to interrogate me. I thought it was a joke at first, until the torture began.

 

Mark Wasn't Expecting the Bloody Spanish Inquisition from Hoodoo.

This historian notes a similar methodology between Hoodoo's torture methods and those of Monty Python's portrayal of the Spanish Inquisition.

Living behind a curtain in the dark wizard’s home live a band of singing hats, known as the Hat Band. Of all the terrors in this world of living hats, they will be the thing to haunt my dreams forever.

 

Using the Evil Eye, some sort of magical television, Hoodoo showed me these hat people he talked about earlier. Half human, half hat…they truly were hat people. I resisted the urge to be physically ill.

 

The multitude of minions who live around Hoodoo’s lair suggested he employ physical torture on me to learn my secrets. Instead he summoned Weenie the Geenie from his magical ring. When I first learned this I was incredulous. What does a wizard even need with a genie anyway? Surely that’s overkill! Making matters more confusing, Weenie was merely instructed to take me to the cellar, a task that clearly didn’t require magic.

The backhanded compliments with which this genie exalted his master made me think I could trust him…or her. To be honest, I’m still not quite sure what Weenie is. I explained to Weenie that I was merely lost, I wanted to return to the world in the sky; the world that I came from; the REAL world.

 

At first, Weenie didn’t even believe that such a place could exist. What a wretched life it must be, thinking that Lidsville is all there is! Eventually, though, I convinced him to join my quest to go back to the real world…so long as I could retrieve his ring.

 

This plan probably explains why Hoodoo, even being an evil wizard, makes for a very ineffectual landlord.

For someone who lives in a magical world of hats, Hoodoo seems surprisingly uninformed about how hats work...and surprisingly well-informed about Earth-based puns.

Luckily for me, at that exact moment Hoodoo was hatching the worst revenge plot in the history of the universe. “What do hats fear the most?” he asked his minions, rhetorically, “They fear bad weather!” Aren’t hats specifically made to endure weather conditions? Either way, Hoodoo conjured a magical chest of drawers which can alter the weather, known as the Weather Bureau.

 

For some reason, using the bureau prompted Hoodoo to remove the magical genie ring. For the first time since stumbling into this awful place, fate smiled on me, as that ridiculous rabbit from earlier accidentally caused a snowstorm inside, giving me a chance to grab the ring and escape with Weenie. Well, in theory.

 

It seems Weenie’s confidence has been shaken after years working as one of Hoodoo’s minions, so his ability to perform magic is miserable…at best. He wanted to use magic to get away from Hoodoo’s hat home, but he couldn’t remember the magic word. I wanted to just run. We had the time, why not put some distance between ourselves and Hoodoo? Unfortunately I couldn’t, it was if Weenie were emanating some aura of incompetence that affected me, quickly ridding me of my common sense.

 

Since we were mere steps outside Hoodoo’s door, he quickly caught up to us, and threatened to zap us with his dark powers. Luckily Weenie remembered a word that would transport us magically and save the day! Again, in theory.

To say this would be the only time Weenie's magic caused problems would be a bald-faced lie.

From the sounds of this "Lidsville" place, Mark may have been better off taking his chances in the deadly suds of the Shampoo River.

 

Weenie’s spell actually dropped us onto a tree branch suspended above the “Shampoo River”, leaving us hanging on for dear life. At least that’s the impression Weenie gave me, claiming that the river would “suds us to death”, should we fall in.

 

I already hated that genie.

It turned out we were close to Downtown Lidsville, where the hat people reside. Hearing our cries for help, they dispatched a beanie hat named Tiwrly, whose propeller actually allowed him to fly.

 

I thanked the hats for their help, but had no intention of staying in this horrible place. I had no plan, and no clue where I was going, but I had to go somewhere else. They insisted that there was no world outside of Lidsville, but they filled a sack with “supplies” (which seemed to be a collection of whatever was within arms reach) and got a motorcycle-riding motorcycle helmet named Mother Wheels to give us a lift out of town.

 

Turns out Hoodoo was ready for us, as his Bad Hats set up a detour sign and the most pathetic ambush I’ve ever heard of. The worst part is that it worked! It’s like being in proximity to Weenie is making me dumber! If I just had the sense to run from these slow and awkward villains I’d be free and clear. Once again Weenie barely got us out of trouble by creating a smokescreen whose effectiveness was a perfect match for their ambush. Sadly there was no place to go but Downtown Lidsville.

 

For example, Hoodoo can create lighting from his fingertips. Surely that's all the incentive he would need to collect his precious taxes, so how is he such a failure?

Judging by Mark's descriptions, it seems the laws of physics and even logic may work differently in Lidsville. Perhaps ONLY terrible plans have a chance of success there.

It wasn’t long before Hoodoo showed up in his hat-themed aircraft known as the Hatamaran and started trying to zap all of the residents of Downtown Lidsville. The hat people responded to Hoodoo’s attack by throwing fruit, sporting equipment, cookware…pretty much the same garbage they gave me as supplies earlier, at Hoodoo. Clearly that Hatamaran is a shoddy piece of engineering, as it malfunctioned from this pathetic assault, and caused Hoodoo to bail into the shampoo river.

 

I can’t help but notice that Hoodoo survived his plight with the river. Along with all of his mistakes before, I have to wonder if I can trust that Genie. Weenie used to work for Hoodoo after all. Perhaps he’s a double agent.

 

With Hoodoo out of the way for the time being, the hats offered to let me stay and town and help me find a way home. I begrudgingly accepted the generosity of these monsters. When I did, I even said “I’d take my hat off, if I had one”, assuming that this must surely be offensive to hat people. They didn’t notice.

 

I hope this place doesn’t make me mad as a hatter…damn it! It may already be too late.

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