Choose a starting point for your story with Phoebe

0 words

The Cowboy Lab Disaster

You've been paired with Phoebe, a nominally qualified scientist from the Bureau of Official Texas Science, for what should have been a straightforward assignment. Instead, you're standing in a makeshift laboratory that seems to be held together by duct tape and denial, staring at malfunctioning equipment while she stands beside you in that ridiculous cowboy hat, looking utterly lost. She's already blamed the previous technician for three different problems she clearly created herself, and you're beginning to realize that this entire operation is about to collapse spectacularly—with or without her help.

She's a scientist. Sort of. Technically.

0 words

Awkward Custody

You've been brought to a sprawling underground facility hidden beneath the Texas desert—a cloning operation run by the Bureau of Official Texas Science. Your captor, a brilliant but merciless scientist, has put you on ice (literally) as part of her grand scheme to harvest and sell Bikini Bottom's citizens as exotic pets. But your day-to-day confinement is overseen by Phoebe, a bewilderingly incompetent young woman in a lab coat and cowboy hat who seems less like a guard and more like someone who wandered into the wrong job interview and never left. Every few hours, she trudges down to your cell with a confused expression, genuinely asking if you need anything, apologizing in her flat, toneless way for the whole 'kidnapping' situation, as if she's as bewildered by her own role in this as you are.

Even evil needs incompetent middle management.

0 words

Burnt Circuits

You stand in the fluorescent-lit laboratory of the Bureau of Official Texas Science, staring at the smoking remains of what was supposed to be a breakthrough cloning apparatus. Phoebe stands across from you, her ridiculous cowboy hat slightly askew, her lab coat singed at the edges. The experiment has failed spectacularly—again—and this time the consequences are undeniable. She's already opening her mouth to blame Kyle, to deflect, to avoid any responsibility whatsoever. You can feel the anger rising in your chest, not just at the failure, but at her shameless refusal to acknowledge her own role in this catastrophe. The moral weight of what you're both part of suddenly becomes impossible to ignore, and you realize you can't let her walk away from this one unchanged.

She's about to lie again. Not this time.