Fred was lost. His body was more difficult to recover then he had imagined, he was still stuck inside of wackiness.org. However, more people were aware of him now. He was being exploited for the amusement of the site's visitors. This was hampering his recovery. His core thoughts seemed to be the same, but maybe that was because he couldn't remember his past. He noticed a packet of data float in. Desperately hoping for something that would raise his spirits, he opened it. A link was formed between him and a computer far away. He soon became linked to a vast network of computers. All of them were naming files that were requested for transfer.

Fred, soon learning the proper way to speak in this network, sent a request for one of the files, a "Avril Lavigne.mp3." That was one of the most frequent of all the file names, and Fred simply followed blindly. Soon after the request, parts of the file began to arrive. Quickly assembling them, he executed the file. A horrible noise came from it. Fred, amused by this diversion, sent out requests for other .mp3 files. Several hours later, Fred had quite the collection of these .mp3 files, and enjoyed opening them in random order, several at once, and even started to emulate the vocal sounds of the artists.

Meanwhile, in the real world, wackiness.org was suffering from the tremendous bandwidth sucking of Fred. With a single megabyte of transfer left for the month, Viz contacted all members, warning them that the site would be going down for unknown reasons. With that, wackiness took a final breath and was cut off from the outside world.

Fred instinctively felt this change, and, now realizing that his reassembly would be considerably delayed by this event, migrated to another site on the same server. There, he stealthily observed all traffic headed for wackiness.org.

Occasionally, he leapt out from his hiding place to grab some small piece of himself, a toe maybe, or some hair. However, each piece increased his strength, speed, and memory. He now remembered a fair amount of his past, from the lab where he was compiled to his escape from the evil Tom.

Fred, now quite tired, went to sleep, waiting for the next month to come. He would have to be more careful from now on. Setting up a basket to catch what other parts that would arrive, he shut down his process.

Viz, now thinking the cause was a certain video file, mirrored from weezer, was to blame for the outage, also waited for the site to return. He would not allow that sort of thing to happen again. Glancing at the server logs, he saw something strange. A great number of connections had been opened on an unusual port. This was rare, wackiness only provided http access, no other ports were used. He would investigate this later, but now, more pressing matters called for his attention.

Fred awoke from his sleep, with his entire right arm rebuilt, and the rest of his body at least able to move. He would remain a while longer, listen to his music, careful not to attract the attention of the staff. Soon the world would taste his bitter wrath! "Now then", Fred thought, "to plot for the future, and listen to Anti-Flag."