DD-FFF08 (Dec 23, 1988)
Puzzle
"The warm slippers against the Cold."
Knowledge | 1 Word
Clue
Hover over the clues if you require!
Clue 1: Have you checked the TBP receipts recently?
Clue 2: Why exactly does Eight refer to Baltimore as a 'slipper-seller'?
Clue 3: Might need some etymology here - or just Google Jean's name. Part of it, at least.
Answer and Explanation
Answer: Chaussons
Explanation: The puzzle is a reference to TBP07, when Jack refers to Jean as 'our cozy little slipper-seller'. Jean's last name, 'Chausson', means 'slippers', and due to his desire to defeat Fate, he is essentially the 'slippers' (that is, Chaussons), against the Cold.
Summary of Receipt
Summary
Transcript
AND RECEIPT
RECEIPT NUMBER: FFF08
RECEIPT DATE: 12 23 1988
MANAGER TITLE: #64 Jean-Marc Chausson
RECEIPT NOTES:
The first receipt filed under “Diner Diner.”
On paper, it’s the same as any other “AND” level receipt. Functionally, it’s stored in the same spot. But practically? It’s an entirely different beast.
To destroy Fate, I’ll need to step far outside the bounds of what was, what is, and what will be. Striking a deal with Wicked and working with the son of Secret—that should already be proof of how far I’m willing to go. I’ll push the boulder up the hill again, but this time, it will be the last.
No more mistakes. No more errors. No more rewinds.
Four more years. Give or take. Then I can finally run the Cafe and Diner as it was meant to be. As Eight.
I’m still going to try to save him. How could I not? If there’s even a slim chance I can spare Jack from the fate that awaits him, I have to try. But what am I to do? Even with the Blighted Second Sight, I’m no match for Fate, Phantom, Wicked, or Secret.
The only one who could stop Fate now is Eight—and I doubt he’d use the Eight for that. I doubt he’d use the Eight for anything. And I can’t blame him for that. It’s a crushing burden, holding the fundamental truths of the Universe so clearly in mind. A power like that is too easily abused.
To the Carthusians and the Celestines, to the beggars and the believers, to the daydreamers and the vagabonds, to the servants and charming young women in surcoats and snug corsets… to the lovers, faint with hopeless love, in flawless fawn chaussons—I ask only for forgiveness.
…But I won’t ask forgiveness from the Cold.
May their fifteen ribs be smashed to dust with a heavy heavenly hammer, strong and firm, with the full weight of primordial creation—cosmic chaos.
…Thank you—to everyone who has yet to arrive, and especially to those unfortunate enough to already be part of my grand plan.