🎬 Episode II½: The Phantom Mojo
A Psy-Fry Theater Original
From Darkside Studio — Welcome to the Dark Side of the Mind
🌌 PROLOGUE — When the Mojo Slept
Legends say the Mojo Spirit — the living soul of the Blues Force — once pulsed in every honest riff across the galaxy.
It was the ache behind heartbreak ballads, the fury in stormborn solos, the tenderness in a midnight slide.
But after Mojo DuPree’s final showdown with Count Syncro, the Spirit simply... quieted.
Not gone.
Not dead.
Just sleeping, like a dragon under the Delta.
And without it, the galaxy forgot how to feel.
Worlds turned gray.
Songs turned safe.
People worked, ate, slept, and scrolled without ever realizing a part of them was missing.
The only ones who remembered were the Twelve Bar Council — dwindling blues warriors who had retreated into exile, waiting for a sign the Mojo would rise again.
They waited decades.
And then, on a dust-choked mining planet called Rustville, the galaxy trembled.
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| Rustville Trembles |
🎵 Ella Tonewalker
Ella Tonewalker was seventeen, hungry, stubborn, and dusty from head to toe.
She lived in the shell of an old interstellar tour bus — once owned by the legendary band The Hyper Novas — now half buried in the junk dunes.
Her life was simple:
- Scavenge by morning
- Busk by noon
- Dodge debt collectors by night
But Ella had a gift:
When she touched an instrument, even a broken one, it hummed back.
Like something inside her reached out and woke the sleeping wood and wire.
She didn’t know why.
Nobody on Rustville wondered about things like destiny.
Rustville ate destinies and spit out rust flakes.
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| Ella Tonewalker in the Wrecked Tour Bus |
🎺 The Harmonica in the Dust
It happened during a sandstorm.
Ella dove into a collapsed junk tunnel seeking shelter, landing hard on something metal.
When she brushed away the dust, her breath caught.
A leather-bound case.
Older than any machine she’d ever seen.
Etched with symbols that shifted like they didn’t want to be looked at.
Inside was a harmonica.
Silver.
Smooth.
Warm to the touch.
And humming — softly — like it was breathing.
Ella lifted it.
The air crackled.
Her fingertips glowed faintly blue.
“What in the nine strings are you?” she whispered.
She held it to her lips.
Blew a single note.
The universe flinched.
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| The Ancient Harmonica |
⚡ The Ripple Across the Stars
The note tore through hyperspace like a comet of sound.
On distant worlds:
- Abandoned juke joints flickered to life
- Hollow speakers trembled
- Forgotten vinyl spun backwards
- Old musicians woke from nightmares with tears in their eyes
And on a sun-scorched moon far from Rustville…
Blind Yoda Slim sat upright on his porch.
“That ain’t possible,” he said, feeling the riff roll through him.
“The Mojo… is awake.”
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| Blind Yoda Slim Senses the Mojo |
🎚️ Darth Vinyl Stirs
Inside the chrome cathedral of Harmonius Prime, Darth Vinyl — Count Syncro’s last surviving apprentice — meditated in a chamber of absolute silence.
When Ella’s note reached him, the silence cracked.
His eyes snapped open — two swirling discs like rotating records.
“No…” he whispered.
“The Phantom Mojo returns.”
He rose, cloak fluttering like smoke from a burning record store.
The harmonica had chosen a new bearer.
And that was unacceptable.
He summoned his ship, The Black Label, and his voice boomed through the citadel:
“Prepare the Noise Troopers.
We hunt the girl.”
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| Darth Vinyl in the Chrome Cathedral |
🔧 Rustville Reacts
Back on Rustville, Ella lowered the harmonica, shaking.
The air around her buzzed with ghostly chords.
Lights flickered across the junkyard.
Old engines coughed awake.
Even the sand vibrated like it remembered an ancient beat.
Her friend Rigs, a grease-stained tech scavenger, staggered out of his workshop:
“Ella… what did you do?”
Before she could answer, a message burst across every holo-screen in the city:
WANTED:
ELLA TONEWALKER
FOR POSSESSION OF PROHIBITED SOUL-WEAPONS
SURRENDER IMMEDIATELY OR FACE HARSHER MIXING.
Ella blinked.
“Soul-weapon? Me?!”
The sky thundered.
Black ships descended like a swarm of locusts.
Rigs yelled, “RUN!”
And they did.
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| Citywide Wanted Broadcast for Ella Tonewalker |
🎶 The Twelve Bar Council Returns
As Rustville fell under assault, the Twelve Bar Council — now a ragtag band of elder blues warriors — emerged from hiding.
Leading them was Blind Yoda Slim, riding a hover-chair that creaked like an old rocking porch.
“We got ourselves a Chosen One,” he said, sniffing the air.
“Girl’s awakened the Mojo. Been waitin’ for this since DuPree vanished.”
He cracked his knuckles, the sound ringing like sacred tuning forks.
“Let’s go save her before Vinyl tunes her soul out of existence.”
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| The Twelve Bar Council Rises in Rustville” |
🚀 The Chase
Ella and Rigs tore through the scrapyard on a stolen hover-cart as Noise Troopers swarmed overhead.
Laser-lasso drones fired.
Machines toppled.
Rust dust exploded into crimson clouds.
Ella clutched the harmonica.
It pulsed.
She felt something inside her awaken — like a river rising from deep underground.
She turned.
Blew another note.
A shockwave of pure Blues energy blasted the troopers backward, shorting out their gear.
Rigs stared, jaw dropped.
“Ella… you’re a damn sorceress!”
“No,” she said.
“I think I’m a musician.”
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| Scrapyard Escape: Ella and Rigs vs Noise Troopers |
⚔️ Convergence
Just as Vinyl’s flagship descended, blocking out the sky…
a battered star-cruiser screeched overhead.
Painted on the side:
THE REBEL RHYTHM
Blind Yoda Slim stood on the loading ramp, dobro strapped across his chest.
“Get in, child!”
Ella leapt aboard as Vinyl’s ship unleashed a volley of sonic bombs that shook Rustville to its core.
Vinyl himself stepped into the blast smoke, cloak rippling.
Through the flames, he locked eyes with Ella.
“Your sound belongs to me.”
Ella raised the harmonica.
“Come take it.”
🎤 EPILOGUE — The Phantom Mojo Rises
The Rebel Rhythm blasted off, leaving Rustville in ruin.
Inside, Ella sat across from Blind Yoda Slim, who nodded like he’d seen this coming his entire life.
“You’re the key, girl,” he said.
“The Mojo chose you.”
Ella swallowed.
“What does that mean?”
“That means,” he said, grinning,
“we gotta train your ass.”
Ella looked down at the harmonica glowing softly in her hands.
Outside the viewport, Darth Vinyl’s fleet spread like a black stain across the stars.
A storm was coming.
And Ella Tonewalker was its lightning.
Next: 🔥 Episode III½: Rise of the Harmonic Order
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