"So you're, like, not big Q...?" Pause. "Kinda weird that you look like him then, innit?" 

"Same name and everything. I don't fucking know, man." 

"So you're, like, his evil clone? I'm gonna be honest, that's kind of pog."

"...I'd like to think I'm not his evil clone. But, like, sure, I guess." 

"That is exactly what an evil clone would say." Pause. "Unless we have the evil clone and you're the good one from another universe come to see the terrible, terrible things that could have been."

He's a fucking professional. 

"I guess we'll find out!" 

"Well, if you are the evil clone, I would appreciate it if you would not kill me, because I am me. I promise I will not tell anyone your evil secrets."

"I would never even consider it. You are, after all, you. And immune to bullets." 

"This is true. You shoot me and the bullets will just slide right off of me like fish." (He's got a chestplate and pants of the glowing purple armor, but no helmet, and instead of boots he's got ratty white tennis shoes.) "I'm like a fucking waterslide for bullets."

Apparently metal is sometimes glowing and purple around here. Someone who isn't Quackity might be able to infer things from that.

"Course you are," he agrees. Steps back so he can get a slightly more proper look around Paradise. 

It's, uh, small. The stone building and stone...pillar?...are the two major things, and they're both tiny in comparison to everything in Las Nevadas. The stone building has a single chest in it; inside the chest is... more stone. There's also a hole labeled "prisoner hole" and surrounded by iron bars, which is... empty.

Near the building is a tree stump with a sign attached, which reads "rest in peace, Ghostbur :("; near the small pillar is a... jukebox? record player? something like that.

That's... approximately it.

It's empty. There is nobody in the prisoner hole. There's nobody there. It might even be a joke, he hasn't seen a single person who might plausibly be a peacekeeper-- although he's also only seen three people-- 

This place has Tommy and, apparently, also Wilbur. Maybe he should start drawing an actual map at some point, if he finds a pen. Maybe he should try to find Wil.

Or maybe he should shut the fuck up and figure out how to be fucking normal before he has to field more questions. 

(Tommy is still talking, though it's mostly to himself at this point. There are no fish in paradise, he scared them all off, women want him fish fear him, and women fish, well, he doesn't even want to get into what's going on with the women fish. He is different from Wilbur because he would never marry a fish even if she were a woman. He has so many wives he has to say ladies, ladies, please, you are all beautiful but I have a shovel at home. He is so glad she is safe again, safe with him, this is proof that gambling actually has no bad consequences because you can just go back and get your stuff back, all those PSAs were just fake news...

It doesn't seem like he's stopping anytime soon, although Quackity is welcome to interrupt him.)

Quackity does not actually want to interrupt him. Quackity mostly wants his brain to shut the fuck up. This might not really be in the cards but hey he can try. 

...in the meantime, it's kind of nice, just existing quietly in a place with another person. No being threatened with an axe, nobody terrified of the entire concept of him. 'S like having roommates again. He could happily spend some time waiting here. 

It doesn't take that long for Wilbur to show up. "Tommy! I was thinking, maybe we can--"

--He stops abruptly when he sees Quackity before resuming walking. He's feigning nonchalance about it and failing terribly. "--Oh, hello, Big Q. You look... different."

Quackity is abruptly much more aware than he'd like to be that he's still dressed like a fucking party favor. 

Probably Wilbur just means the scar, though. This Wilbur also doesn't have any obvious scars; it's weird, Q has never actually seen his Wilbur without them. 

"Hi, Wil. Tommy's theory is that I'm your Quackity's evil clone, which seems kind of far-fetched but I don't exactly have any better ideas. Good to see you, man." 

That last bit is either an understatement or a flat-out lie. What is a feeling and which one is he having, he has no idea. 

The scar, yes, but also the--everything. Not the clothes, they're a little unusual but not that unusual for Quackity--this Quackity is a bit thinner, shorter, younger, and he's pretty sure he's wearing makeup. Other than the hair, he looks more like the Quackity who had been Schlatt's vice president and less like the Quackity who told him not to enter Las Nevadas.

"Are you scared of me?"

"...uh, no? Should I be?" 

There's a beat of silence. Tommy takes in the situation and decides to take it as his cue. "Obviously you should be scared of us, bitch! We're big men and we're going to make the best damn city this world has ever seen!"

Wilbur had better fucking thank him for this later. (Tommy already knows that he's not going to.)

...yeah, okay, he'll take that bait. Maybe he's just stupid but oh well. He laughs, easy, unworried. 

Wilbur smiles too. "You're interesting. I like that."

It is a deliberate choice to take that at face value. "Thank you!" 

"So, Quackity number two, what's being an evil clone like? Should I be preparing to hide you from stray mad scientists?"

"Mad scientists in my experience are actually really nice! Very into making things out of spare bits of wire. Since I got here the greatest threat to my person has been Quackity number one, who seemed to think he was being parodied and didn't believe me when I tried to tell him that my face just looks like this and I can't actually go home and change it."