Wearing a welding mask was never something Golf Ball liked. Hot, stuffy, sweaty, and above all else, she could never find one that properly fit her. Every so often she would have to drop the sparking torch to adjust the fit on her face. But unless she wanted red-hot pieces of metal to fly off and burn her face off or blind herself, it was the only option when trying to fuse a time-flux capacitor to an antimatter dissolving neutron switch.
Golf Ball was about to readjust her mask for the billionth time when her phone started ringing. She took off the metal plate and picked up her phone.
"Hello? This is Golf Ball speaking."
"Hey! It's Pencil! Remember me?" the person on the other side replied.
"Yes, I remember. Let me guess, you want me to open up the doors so you and your friends can come into my underground factory?"
"I couldn't have said it better. Just one small issue..." Pencil clicked her tongue. "There are just a couple of extra people up here as well."
GB gasped. "You said you'd only bring two people here! And I didn't even agree before you ran off! How many people are up there exactly?"
"One... two... three..." she quietly counted. "Including me, there are 10 people up here. Some of which I don't even know. Are you sure the location of this factory is secret?"
"T-t-" she found it impossible to find the words. "TEN!? That's more than the number of people I've spoken to in my life!"
Pencil sighed. "Yeah, whatever. I mean, everyone is already here. You might as well let us in."
"Fine. But I'm only doing this so I can directly yell at your collective faces to get out of my factory." She put down the phone. "TB, open up the door, please."
Her lab assistant dropped the toolkit he had been carrying and walked over to the staircase. On one of the walls was a keypad that controlled the door at the top of the stairs. He pressed a few numbers and sunlight began streaming down from above. Sunlight carrying the sounds of the only organisms on earth that were fouler to her than even the bugs—other objects.
With the doors open, the brotherhood of "nobody asked for them to come here, they just did" began entering her factory. They all eventually found their way to the main floor with Pencil at the lead. Upon seeing their new environment, one red cube pushed his way through the crowd.
"Pen! Over here!" he shouted, "I brought the whole gang with me!"
A few other objects followed his lead forward. Specifically, they were an eraser and a snowball. With her years of practice in logic, she deduced that they were Eraser and Snowball respectively.
Pen stood up and ran over to his friends. "Blocky! You made it without dying!"
"Of course he didn't," Snowball replied in a gruff voice, "I was there. These weaklings would've not survived a wasp if it were not for me!" Just to emphasize his point, he made a punching motion in the air.
"Actually, he was the first one to run away," Eraser deadpanned.
"Grr! You're just too much of a wimp to admit that you crawled into the nearest bathroom stall!"
"Sure, buddy, that's exactly what happened," Blocky snorted.
Their argument continued for some time. Meanwhile, a conversation had broken out between some other members of this motley crew.
"Wow, Pin, this place is so cool!" Leafy exclaimed. "I bet we can turn this place into an amazing restaurant, the four of us!"
"Maybe," Pin considered. "The green ooze flowing out of the open-ended pipes is a little concerning. So does the vat of lava over there. Oh, and all the dangerous-looking scientific equipment scattered all over the place. But I'm sure we can get this place fixed up."
"I like lava," Firey added.
Golf Ball examined the A-grade mess in front of her. She didn't even care how all these intellectually challenged people could survive killer bugs. The only thing she wanted at that moment was to get rid of the outsiders and never see them again. A ball of pressure began to build up inside her, growing with every word of nonsense that passed the lips of her new visitors.
"So, what do you think?" Pencil asked.
GB laughed. "What do I think? What do I think!? I think that all of you useless people should GET OUT!"
A hushed silence smashed into the classroom-sized population in her factory. A thousand pairs of eyes turned their unbreaking attention to her insignificant body.
"Do you all think my factory is some kind of shelter for pathetic, useless idiots? I built this factory for two people. Two! And that's me and Tennis Ball. Now all of you come in here and start arguing on my front porch. This is unacceptable!"
"What are you going to do about it, weakling?" Snowball challenged.
"I- uh- give me a moment."
Snowball was right. There was a zero percent chance she could take on a dozen objects—who were all larger than her—and expect to win. Thus—naturally—she turned to her favourite scapegoat (and friend).
"TB! Help me get rid of these cretins!"
"Okay, um, listen to Golf Ball or something," he whimpered, "just please don't hurt me, I'm sure we can find a peaceful solution to this."
"Oh, I'll give you peaceful!" Snowball threatened, raising his fist.
The temperature in the room suddenly dropped to absolute zero; the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. All it would take was one spark, one strand pulled too far, and the pressure would explode like a thermonuclear bomb.
But the sparks did not hit the kindling.
"Snowball! Cut it out!" a meek voice called. Needle stepped out from behind a pile of tic-tac-toe games. "You have no right to act like this in front of the owner of this factory. Now, apologize."
He lowered his fist and began to twiddle his thumbs. "S-sorry Ms. Needy."
"Not to me! To Golf Ball!" She slapped him. "Also, don't call me Needy!"
He made no moves to retaliate. "I'm sorry for attempting to murder you, Golf Ball. I probably won't do it again."
"I'll accept your apology." Turning to Needle, baffled, she whispered, "How did you do that?"
Her expression tightened, "It's nothing. Just a favour he owes me."
"Hey, Golf Ball," Leafy piped, "I hate to bother you, but what are we supposed to do now? It's getting dark out and I don't think it makes sense to send everyone home."
"I think we should have a sleepover party!" Firey suggested. Then, as if seeing a single red tile on a white bathroom floor, he shrieked and pointed at Coiny. "It's you!"
Golf Ball did now know what rivalry stood between these two objects, but Coiny clearly did, and he responded likewise.
"Yeah, it's me. Bet you're so worked up over the fact I'm not dead!" he defiantly answered.
"For now. I'd watch your back tonight if I was you."
"Yeah, right," the penny mocked, "what are you going to do? Stab me? I'm literally made of metal!"
"And you know what happens to metal when it meets fire?" Firey asked. "It melts."
Not wanting to have another argument, she quickly called the two off. "Knock it off, you two. If you want to stay in my factory, you're gonna have to obey my rules."
"Fiiiine," they both begrudgingly agreed.
"As for the rest of you," GB continued, "I will allow you all to stay here for the night, if you all agree to my demands."
"Which is?" Eraser asked.
"I was just getting to that!" she snapped. "Tomorrow morning you will all have to go out and scavenge for parts I can use to build my projects."
"Sounds good and all," Pin said, "but how are we supposed to know what is and isn't useful? Not all of us are basement-dwelling scientists, you know."
"Just grab anything that looks right. You'll probably have the best luck in shops that sell lab equipment or machine parts. There's nobody else to call on you for stealing or anything. You all got that?"
Everyone nodded.
"Good! TB, check the back of the storage room. I think there might be some sleeping bags in there."
<=======>
Working by the glow from the computers, GB furiously continued to build the recovery centre. Her eyes were bloodshot from staying open for so long, with raccoon-like dark spots underneath. Her legs wobbled like jelly every time she picked something up. Paper coffee cups were thrown haphazardly around the office. A wheezing coffee maker had been brewing nonstop for hours.
None of this bothered her. And if they did, she was not going to let it stop her. Golf Ball knew she had to get the recovery centre built because something told her that the bugs were not going to be the last of the chain of disasters.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming from the dark hallway. Her senses sharpened. Had Snowball come to seek his revenge? Golf Ball reached for the sharpest screwdriver she could find on her desk.
"Golf Ball? Are you in there?" TB asked.
She sighed, putting down her self-defence tool. A small part of her was almost disappointed at not being able to stab someone with a Phillips-headed metal rod. "Yeah, I'm in here."
Tennis Ball walked into her office, squinting his eyes when he saw the brightness of the computer. With how dark it was, she could only see a pale glow against his neon yellow face.
"I just wanted to come check on you," he said, looking around at the cups of coffee and her obviously tired self.
"You really didn't have to, you know," she responded, not minding his presence, "It's not like I'm five or anything."
"Oh, okay. Did you need some help?" Tennis Ball offered.
"No. You should go back to bed. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
"Alright."
He turned his back and started to walk out. Golf Ball watched her best friend, skimming over every little detail from their long years of partnership. Her mind went to that feeling she had in the tunneler—the one she couldn't describe. But with the hum of computer fans and the emptiness that surrounded her, GB finally realized what that feeling was.
Guilt.
"Wait, TB!" she yelled.
He turned around. "Yes?"
"I-I just wanted to thank you, for everything that you've done for me. All the struggles and tribulations, thick and thin, there's just so much there. But I also... I also," she took a deep breath. "I also wanted to say that I'm sorry for how I've been treating you. I'm sorry that I've never recognized your talent and skill and... I just wanted you to know that although I'm not great at showing it, I really do appreciate you."
TB didn't say anything, but the thing is, he didn't need to. He was smiling, and that was all she needed to see.