In a lifeless, barren wasteland, where clouds gathered in the dim, gray sky and industry covered the land instead of vegetation, a distant city groaned with boredom and melancholy. In contrast to the Unikingdom, the people here were way too busy working to do anything else, sitting around in their cars with their faces hanging low, and trudging around the street glumly, just as they did every other day. No one seemed to be having any semblance of a good time except for Master Frown.

Beneath his dark purple blanket, he was curled up in bed reading a novel with a flashlight. The prose of this book was designed to sink your heart, and its storyline saddened more and more as it went on, but he didn't mind. In fact, a book about an unlucky spearman whose life was spiraling completely out of control was right up his alley. After a quick breakfast, he immediately went back to his room to dive into it. He was now 12 chapters in. Eager to watch as the so-called "hero" of the story suffered, he grinned as the pain, sorrow, and malice unfolded. He cackled as the doom and despair soaked in.

When he was least expecting them to, his lover and best friend Brock came into the room with a younger, shorter figure behind him. She'd come the night before to sleep over at their apartment, and both he and Brock had tried to straighten it up as best they could for her. Master Frown jumped as soon as Brock pulled the blanket off of his bluish-black cloak. At least they didn't interrupt before he could finish reading a sentence.

"Brock, what was THAT for?!" he fumed. "You messed up the dramatic flare of my summer reading! Everyone knows it's better when you read it under your blanket!"

"I'm really sorry about that, dude," Brock apologized. "It's just that Imogen and I almost forgot to tell you some things."

"Is Master Doom finally giving me a promotion?" Master Frown asked eagerly.

"No, she isn't," the teenage girl replied as his face fell. "Today, you were supposed to pay your overdue library fines."

Frown gave her a frustrated look. "Why can't you do it?"

"I don't have the money, okay? It's not exactly easy to get a job around here," Imogen reminded him.

"Then go out and try to get one, you dork," Frown said to her, even though he totally knew what she was talking about. Putting people down for his own amusement had only become a tendency of his.

"You really wanna go there, don't ya?!" she yelled at him, pretending to roll up the sleeves of her rich purple sorceress's cloak.

"You know what? How 'bout I make an omelet out of you?!" Frown shot back as they squared up. He slapped Imogen in her cerulean face, knocking her glasses off. Immediately after she picked them up, she snuck around behind him and pushed him to the floor. He rolled himself over, kicking the cloud-like design at the bottom of her cloak as if trying to trip her.

"Cut it out!" Brock cried, shoving the two away from each other. If he hadn't done that, a few of Imogen's braced teeth might have been knocked out. "Dude, quit trying to pick on her. Need I remind you, she's still getting to know us!"

Now that Imogen had gotten acquainted with the two and was regularly coming over to hang out with them, Brock and Master Frown had gotten up off their rumps to disable Frown's booby traps, vacuum their thick, grandpa-beard-like carpet, and clean the bathroom... by spraying it with air freshener. All that time, Brock had continuously reminded Master Frown to not get on her irritable side. After she arrived, he gave him a concerned look when he tried to swipe her wand as a joke.

"But she wants me to cough up money she could get herself!" Frown puffed, standing up.

"I didn't say that, did I?" said Imogen.

Brock sighed. "Imogen just wants us to be chill! Like, can't we all just get along? That's not something we're doing right now!"

"Then can we all stop?!" she shrieked.

None of them spoke again until the heat between them died down. Once Brock took a deep breath, he said, "Good. So, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go to a soccer game today."

"Why?" Master Frown asked.

Brock spread out the covers, sending them back into smoothness. "'Cause, since Imogen's spending today with us, I just thought it would be a fun thing to do. I already paid for our tickets. And also, I promised her that I'd introduce her to Unikitty."

"What?! Boo!" Frown yelled, flopping himself upon the freshly made bed. He could hear the living gravestone and the young magician whisper things to each other.

Whenever Master Frown felt like it, he would drop by the Unikingdom to stir up trouble. To him, a little went a long way; eating all the French fries in a tray and not saving any for another was an easy deed which would turn the faucets in their eyes in under a minute. If word spread to him that something festive or joyful was going on in the kingdom, especially if Unikitty was running the show, he'd be there to shut it down at the drop of a hat.

"Bro, they might be selling those special sneakers to support our home team," Brock told him. "You know, the ones with the springy bottoms you talked about? Don't you want to get those?"

"Oh, yeah. I do! Looks like I've got a game to ruin!" Frown replied, getting up and chuckling sinisterly. That depressingly entertaining story he'd been devouring would have to wait.

The three of them hopped in his battle mech, which almost always took the form of a car. The ride along the expressway to the Unikingdom from Frowntown took long enough for Master Frown and Brock to gather all of their hard-earned money. Imogen sat in the backseat, pressing her arm on a bag of stuff that Brock had decided to bring in case the seatbelt couldn't stop it from accidentally falling out. Despondent sighs and honking car horns came from all around the city. They drove past many dim storm cloud street lights, some of which looked like no one even cared about repairing them. The edifices, apartment buildings and houses were built in the shape of rectangles and desaturated like they hadn't gotten a fresh coat of paint in a while. There was nothing here that you'd want to stop and look at, nor was there anyone to converse with. Halfway along the route, they had to pull over to let their eyes adjust to the sunny blue sky.

Upon arriving, the sounds of exhilarated commotion hit their ears. The merch stands were close to being completely rid of their items, and not that many people were under the bleachers now. Two of the remaining few backed away from the robed, low-rank Doom Lord who'd picked on them dozens of times before. Master Frown, Imogen and Brock searched every stand for a pair of those heavenly sneakers. They asked the clerks if they had one left in stock and hunted for one behind their desks. Master Frown even demanded for it very loudly (with Brock having to pull him away lest security come for them), but not one pair was anywhere to be found.

The almighty Doom Lords, according to Frown, were responsible for all of the mayhem, pain, and despair in the whole world. His arm stiffened up to smack a guy directly in the face with all three of those things at once.

"It's okay," Imogen told him comfortingly. "We can try to find them at the store or something."

After their fruitless search was over, they stood around near the edge of the grandstand. All of a sudden, Brock felt an incoming blast of cold bite him like a bug. His wide body jittered, and his teeth grinded like a jackhammer. He'd packed a cotton blanket so the trio could get comfortable during the game. He unzipped his bag as quickly as he could, scrambled to grab the blanket, and draped it around him. Then, a peculiar gale of flecks fell down from a cloud that was closer to the ground than clouds should be. When one softly landed on his left hand, he gasped.

"What in the- it's snowing, man! Like, actually snowing! I am NOT making this up!" he told Master Frown.

That caught his attention. "Snowing? At the start of summer? Unless you live in the North Pole, that should be impossible!"

"Looks like Snow Day couldn't wait this year," commented Imogen. If she'd had her wand with her right now, she'd have totally tried casting a heat spell.

"Move over!" urged Master Frown.

He followed the clouds to the side, where he spotted whom he presumed to be the source of this weird weather- a cyan dog who was probably related to Unikitty and Puppycorn. They quickly ran their paws along the metal beams supporting the bleachers, took fast peeks behind the beams and under the benches repeatedly, and dug hole after hole in the ground as the clouds sprinkled snowflakes on it. They were probably a bench player for the home team, but he'd never seen them around the Unikingdom before. But as they poked and prodded, their eyes darted all over the place.

It didn't really matter that Master Frown wouldn't be able to walk with a trampoline-style spring in his step, at least not as of now. He could convince this mystery dog to side with him. They could spark an interest in joining the Doom Lords and help out with the downfall of Unikitty's kingdom. Happiness levels would plummet, and Master Doom would ask, "Woah! Whose idea was this?" Upon finding out it was Frown's idea, she'd be so proud of him that she would maybe raise him to the highest rank in her squadron.

"Dude, what's going on?" Brock asked him before he could approach them, pulling the blanket taut around himself.

Master Frown moved him back underneath the bleachers. "That guy right there could be the secret to stop my arch-nemesis! And, they could boost my reputation as a Doom Lord! If they're where those clouds are coming from, that is."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Brock advised. "You don't even know what they're up to."

Frown caught sight of the clerks packing up what must've been skyscrapers of merch into cardboard boxes. "But look! The snow clouds are making those guys leave!"

Imogen climbed the stairs that led to the front side. Though she stumbled and tripped on two of them, the warmth of the late-afternoon sun spilled on her body through the hole. "No they're not. The game's just about to start," she told the boys. "The temp is normal up here!"

Brock observed the clouds as they continued to drizzle nature's dandruff on the green grass. Even as they did, they remained still as if they had their own basic rules of etiquette. On a side note, they were quite transparent and about as big as a cookie tin. He took his grouchy boyfriend by the hand, leading him to the stairs. "Let's just go watch the game and have a good time. Those clouds are probably gonna fade away later."

The three couldn't get to their seats without bumping into somebody on the way there. The grandstands on both sides of the field were overflowing with spectators. The fans' hooting and cheering pummeled Master Frown's eardrums hard. Nachos, mini-pretzels, raisins and crackers were sprang up in the air like water from a geyser. The game hadn't even started yet, and Master Frown was on the verge of turning around. Once the three of them found their spots on the left side near the bottom, Master Frown plopped himself on the bench. He leaned on Brock, who let him have half of the blanket and cuddled with him tenderly.

They rested on each other in a way that Imogen couldn't help but find sweet for a full twenty minutes. To pass the time, Imogen practiced her pronunciation of certain incantations, and Brock hummed a song that randomly wormed its way into his head. Master Frown checked the gigantic clock over and over again, seeing how much longer it would be before he could set his plan into action. For the best results, it had to be done when the positive vibes at the event reached their peak, for no one would see it coming then. It wasn't anywhere close to 6:00 yet.

The field remained empty as the spectators continued to scream obnoxiously and pelt Master Frown with pretzels. He let out a heavy sigh, resting his face in his hand. This was going to be a long evening.