Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“ Is she going on about more workplace rumors?” Gladhander ANM-4877 glances towards his Mover and Shaker superior, taking a careless sip of cogfee. It’s Friday after all, and every suit employed by C.O.G.S knows Fridays are slow days. Near the end of the week. Not as breakneck as Mondays. They both eye a mingler near the cogfee machine, stirring up a decent group of suits. What is the asinine term he’d heard from the occasional toon? Pied Piper? It doesn’t really matter.

“Quiet down! I don’t want her to overhear you. I can’t lose my promotion a day in. Besides, It’s what she specializes in.” The Mover and Shaker, GLN-8693 hushes ANM, brushing his suit for the seventeenth time that day. Not a speck out of place of course. “Maybe you should listen in. Use it to your advantage. You may get promoted faster.”

ANM glances back toward the group. GLN wasn’t wrong after all. The higher ups tend to enjoy a good shmooze once in a while. Downing his cogfee, ANM Sits up from the utilitarian table, tossing the cup into a trashcan as he saunters towards the group around the mingler. Close enough to be noticed, far enough to not be seen as a brown noser. As ANM begins to focus on the speech, he feels the elbow of GLN on his shoulder as the suit leans on him.

“I recognise her. It’s Mingler JKO-5679. She’s on her way to becoming a personal secretary for the Mr. Hollywood a floor above us.” GLN speaks in a hushed tone, his head turned slightly towards ANM. GLN is quick to give the Mover and Shaker a ‘hush’ as he mentally files what JKO is saying.

“...You can believe me. If you already hated toons, look out! We now have this…thing to worry about.” JKO speaks in a saccharine laced tone. The way her near permanent grinning face stays unchanging, despite the seemingly morbid topic. The way she stirs up the group of suits around her. It’s all unpleasant to say the least. “It was a coworker of a coworker’s cousin of mine who got it. A bossbot.” JKO leans closer, telling some sort of campfire story around the cogfee machine. “The first sign is laughing. Laughing without toon interference. Then after that-”

The impatient clicking of well maintained shoes causes JKO to freeze. She turns to the floor department supervisor, Mr. Hollywood BKM-6134. “That’s quite enough, JKO-5679. Had you not been on break right now I would have scolded you further. I will not let a ridiculous story like that hinder this floor’s work performance.” A quick finger wag is all it takes for the pink haired suit to straighten up, brushing her suit as she stiffly makes her way out of the break room. No other words leave her mouth. 

“As for the rest of you, you have approximately 30 seconds until your break period is over. Finish up quickly, I have to get back to reading my script.” Like Clockwork, the suits in the breakroom quickly straighten up the room for the next group, and file out in an orderly fashion. Fridays are slow days, but still work days.

It’s silent as ANM and GLN make their way out of the break room, side stepping the next group walking in. Not a word escapes the two, but they both know their destination. The water cooler. Ten words. The maximum amount of words they could speak to each other until a safe water cooler chat turned to punishable idle chatter. Once they arrive, ANM speaks first.

“Wish I could hear more.” ANM leans against a cubicle wall next to the water cooler, confessing.

“It was interesting.” a brief reply from GLN, followed with a curt nod.

“Talk about it later?” 

“We’ll see. I’m busy today.”

The haphazard grabbing of a thin paper cup leaves a pause in the air. Pressing the blue cooler tab, ANM nods. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, ANM.”

Watching as GLN saunters off, ANM tries standing straighter. He sets down the cup of water and brushes himself off. Perhaps he should try and look more presentable. It's a handy tool for potential promotions.

————————

You can’t be picky, after all they might not hire you. Yeah right. TIF-7300 shakes his head. The words of his old friend waft around as he digs around a dumpster. This particular dumpster, the one off the side of The Treble Chef's Cooking School was prime pickings from careless toons. A burnt pizza slice with jellybeans here, a hamburger with a jar’s worth of mayo there, and ooh la la… spaghetti and eggshells yes, please. The bottom feeder opens his jaw, letting the failed dish slide off the plate right into his mouth, metal teeth chomping away.

Maybe it’s not all bad. That or the spaghetti’s softening him up. Yeah, it’s just a rough patch with work! TIF straightens himself up, huffing. He’d soon be the top dog, a big wig if you will. TIF could see it now. He could see himself standing tall and proud. He’d speak of this era of his life as if it were one of character building. A broke, dead end lawyer rising though company ranks to become a shining pillar of authority.

If he wasn’t demoted along the way. That or fired. Who was he kidding? The only things shiny here are the brass instruments crying out segments of random songs into the night.

TIF steps out of the building siding, walking back into the streets of Alto Avenue. He needed to get back to the Central Oil district pronto. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and he can’t afford to slack off or be found by a higher up.

“Hehee…”

To his left. TIF immediately turns to his left, then right. Nothing. Was that a toon? Perhaps it’s one of those strange, toony fire hydrants that move and bend. TIF shakes his head. Enough with the internal paranoia. He was a block away from the Central Oil District. Everything’s fine. 

 Yet something in his processor is telling him something’s not right.

“Haha!”

Nope. Some toon is toying with him. Absolutely unbelievable. TIF mentally blue screens as he turns around, seeing nothing in his general area. Nothing. Not a toon or a suit in sight. The streets are unnervingly empty. He doesn’t get paid enough for this.

"I'm not in the mood for garbage right now." A warning taunt. This toon needs to either show themself now or buzz off. Perhaps a rubber stamp or two to the forehead will send the right message.

The clicking of shoes. TIF turns to his right. “Hey pal! Are you fighting a toon over there?” TIF mentally sighs of relief, running over to a nearby Mover and Shaker. Once behind him, the Bottom Feeder graces the suit with a quick tap on the back. “What are ya doing?”

TIF wasn’t one to think hard about things. He should have thought about the streets being empty. He should have thought about all the obvious warning signs. It was just him, and this Mover and Shaker.

“Ahahaha~! Heeheehee!”

TIF feels his processor sink straight to hell as the suit turns to face him. The suit’s damage meter was out. What should have been the sellbot emblem was instead a Green light. All the while the suit covers his face with one of his hands, laughing away. Is this a malfunction? TIF grimaces, noticing no signs of damage. No telltale signs of pies, anvils and such. So why is this suit laughing as if seconds away from combusting?

“AHAHAAHAA~! HOHOHOO!”

Faltering, TIF steps back slowly as the laughing grows louder. He wishes he pickpocketed that invisible toon earlier. Maybe they still had that vanishing cream. He stares as the suit steps forward, laughing loudly into the night. It’s deafening in the moment, the loud sounds of Mezzo Melodyland sound like a lullaby.

A quick glance around. Nobody. A glance at the suit. Still walking towards him. A quick glance at himself. He’s Shaking.“Stay back! O-or I’ll be filing you for a restraining order!”

TIF still hears the clicking of shoes. Then he feels something smooth on his back. A wall. perfect. The suit was now four feet away, stopping. He wasn’t moving, but he was still laughing. *Oh cog… the laughing…*

Then coughing. 

A sudden gush of magenta, viscous liquid alien from oil spills out onto the sidewalk. Cog why… it’s sparkling… Spasms erupt from the Mover and Shaker;

“Hahack- aha! O-oegh-aha…”

All the while, he continues to laugh.

TIF wished he was decommissioned on the spot as he feels the suit’s eyes stare though his. A plea for help. The suit was no longer laughing, but instead seemingly shaking of a morbid anticipation. 

A deep gasping noise. Then, choking as a final ‘hee’ escapes. The sparkling, magenta liquid gushes out of seemingly any opening, crack and gap from the Mover and Shaker. An earth shattering clang erupts as he slams violently onto the sidewalk, into the river of… whatever the hell he coughed up.

Bottom Feeder TIF-7300 fails to notice how he grasps at his own damage meter, Mortified. He slips in the sparkly liquid, coating himself in some of it as he frantically steps away from the shell of the Mover and Shaker. Dear Cog… He had to protect himself from…whatever the hell THAT was. 

Something holds TIF back. He was free to run, free to lie and convince himself not unlike his clients. Maybe if he were in a perfect world. Instead, he stares, looking into the abyssal sight before him. TIF notices he’s still shaking.

He breaks from his trance. Covering his mouth, TIF takes one step back from the body.

He needs to get out of here.

He feels an itch? Some sort of call inside of him? 

He needs to get out of here, now.

He feels something burn at his vocal processors.

His goal is long gone now.

“Haha.”

————————

He knew the streets of Barnacle Boatyard like the back of his hand, which is why Silly Billy SparkleSparkle let himself be entranced by the music from his headphones. The black deer toon is no stranger to haphazardly running around streets, sliding and dodging between walking cogs in the middle of the street all the while. A group of four toons weren’t that far away either, gathered around something. Grabbing the gags he needed from Gag N’ Go, he adjusts his flunky-stolen glasses, stepping nearby to take a closer look.

Ah. Some poor sucker of a cog got hit with an anvil. So why did something not bode well? Other toons would have ran off by now, yet this group’s still around this mundane cog. Sliding them down, the chunky headphones hang from his horns. Silly Billy walks up to the group in a rare impulse of interest. 

Group. He has his own group. No, rather Silly Billy steps up to the limp body of the suit, eyeing the sparkly liquid coating the area. Not paying any mind to the others yet.

“…I-I don’t know! Did someone throw a cake at him?” A concerned voice wafts over from the left. A pink mouse with a pricy tiara.

It. Silly Billy mentally corrects the mouse as he thoroughly inspects the cog. A pettifogger.

“No, I was about to, but then Chim used the anvil!” The shaken response from a Royal Blue dog toon.

The liquid coming from it doesn’t look like oil one bit. Poking at it with a nearby stick reveals it’s quite sticky.

“I needed to do something. Did you see how close that cog got! Any step closer and it prolly would have tried to make Semi sad!” 

Silly Billy deduces the green monkey to be Chim. The toon they spoke of potentially becoming sad, an orange cat.

Speaking of. Silly Billy turns, acknowledging the unwavering eyes of the orange cat toon. Semi perhaps?  “What happened?”

“A cog started following us after we went into one of their buildings. We thought he wanted to pick a fight with us, but he was…laughing.” Silly Billy stays quiet, processing the words of the cat toon. Perhaps he can ask a few more questions.

“What’s your full amount of laff at?”

“Twenty-five! What about you? In fact, who are you?”

“Silly Billy SparkleSparkle. My full laff is Fifty.” He responds, sighing as he drops the stick, backing away from the demolished Pettifogger. It must have been injured and messed up before encountering this group. It happens sometimes, and they’re prolly just spooked by it.

Then, he noticed it’s still leaking from where it’s head should be.

Leaking…whatever this pink goop is.

By no means is Silly Billy a powerful member of the Toon Resistance. However, he considers himself to be self aware enough to recognize something was off about the death of this cog. The fact that it was leaking out this substance instead of oil sends alarms in his head.

“SEMI! What are you DOING?”

The Pink mouse’s shrill voice pries Silly Billy’s mind away as his head snaps up. 

“I wasn’t expecting it to taste like this.” Semi speaks absentmindedly, tasting the sparkly pink goop from the cog. “It’s sweet! Huh. Tastes like a weird cake batter.”

Groaning, the pink mouse holds her head, shaking it before snapping towards the blue dog. “P.J….! I told you we shouldn’t have brought them here! They’re too new!”

“Hey! I wasn’t expecting any of this to happen! We were just gonna do the one building, not get followed by a Pettifogger!” P.J. howls in response, shaking her head. Moving past Silly Billy, the royal blue dog grabs Semi’s hand, leading them towards the rest of the group.

Silly Billy watches the mouse and the dog scold Semi as the green monkey, no, Chim? approaches. He certainly looks to be the strongest out of these toons.

“Heya stranger. I’m Chim E. Churri. I suppose ya caught us at a bad time…” An awkward laugh escapes the monkey. “I’m here with my friends, making sure they don’t go sad! But ah… I believe it’s best for me and my group to head back to Toontown Central…”

“I’ll let Barnacle Bessie know about this for you, don’t worry.” Silly Billy interrupts, glancing to Chim. A moment of stiff silence passes before the monkey toon relaxes.

“Thank Walt…” A deep sigh of relief escapes Chim, as he turns to calm his mouse companion. “Being chased after leaving a building isn’t a fun experience. Especially with a new toon no less. Me and my group need a bit to recoup.”

“Make sure to collect some treasures.” Silly Billy recites like clockwork, calling out to the group as they begin to head the opposite way. 

Well. That just leaves him, the cog body, and the strange looks from functional cogs passing by. Typical cogs not minding their own business.

Something feels off again. Instead of trying to pick a fight with him, they seem to be avoiding him. Avoiding the body, rather. 

That begs the question. Most of the time when a cog was destroyed, other ones would be quick to search for the hard drive inside in order to rebuild it before toons cleaned the parts off the streets. It especially became a thing cogs did after that one incident a while ago. Witness what’s his face? Doesn’t matter.

Staring and poking some more, Silly Billy finally comes to a conclusion as he slips his headphones back on. Whatever was up with this thing, whatever this goop was coming from it…

It’s nothing like any gag he’s ever seen.

————————

ANM-4877 taps at his desk, glancing at the barren cubical across from him. He’s not as efficient today. ANM sluggishly stands, shaking his head. Thankfully, his group’s break starts in approximately 2 minutes. He stuffs a file into a nearby output box. Then, checks over his cubicle once more. Just to be sure everything’s in place. He brushes himself off, before morosely stepping his way to his floor’s break room.

ANM isn’t too familiar with Two Face UON-8000. All that mattered was that UON was his superior, and he most likely would have some sort of explanation for his current worry.

Stand up straight. Give direct eye contact. Speak clearly, confidently and precisely.

“Excuse me sir. May I speak to you for a moment?” 

“Ah. ANM-4877 was it? Yes. You may.” The left side of UON’s head responds. Left UON’s eyes look him up and down briefly. “But keep it brief, Glad Hander.” The right side responds. Right UON’s gaze paying more mind to the cogfee machine.

“I wish to ask if you know about GLN-8693, and his weeklong string of absences lately.”

The clicks of the cogfee machine string through the oppressive ambiance of the break room.

 “Oh, him. He’s been out of commission.” ANM feels the right side’s eyes on him, flatly speaking. Dripping turns to a steady stream as cogfee begins to pour from the machine. “I overheard the Factory Foreman. The batch he’s in is to be fixed within four to seven more business days.” The left side states in a matter of factly tone. The stark white mug meets the right side’s lips as ANM processes.

Out of commission.

His mind tries to wander to the conversation yesterday. He doesn’t let it.

“Is that all?” Right UON’s voice breaks the pause.

“Yes. That is all. Thank you sir.” AMN tries to hide the stiffness in his voice as he turns around, stepping to his usual break room spot. Rather than dig around for a sandwich or pour himself cogfee, ANM sits. He stares deeply into the chair next to him.

Why was he acting this way over his prior coworker, now superior? Being out of commission was normal . It happens all the time. It just hasn’t happened to GLN in a while. That’s all.

That story was ridiculous anyway. The Mover Shaker probably ran into some toons. It wouldn’t have been the first time. It wouldn’t be the last time, either.

ANM doesn’t notice his break time pass until he hears the mass clicking of shoes exiting and feels something’s touching him. A slight head turn reveals a dull purple suit. A glance upward reveals it’s BKM-6134. 

“My apologies sir.”

“No need to apologize this time. I’m here with news that is of interest to you.” The Mr. Hollywood adjusts his shades, before sliding a letter to the Glad Hander. ANM fails to recognise the response he gives. Then what he reads. Everything around him seems so dark. So hazy. He must be malfunctioning.

It’s all a blur as he’s led to the elevator. There’s other cogs inside. Then the rooftop. The elevator made him queasy. The Glad hander catches some words here and there as the Senior Vice president gestures in front of him, and a group of other cogs.. He’s been promoted to an executive. He should be full of pride. He’s crawled out from the masses and shown himself to be noteworthy.  

Going down, and down, and down.

He redresses himself in an empty bathroom, stepping out in a sleek, well fitted black suit. At this moment, he feels like a contradiction. So weak, so powerful. Perhaps he should look more confident.

No. Instead, all ANM can see in his conflicted tunnel vision is the empty cubical of GLN.

Cheers to a new promotion. It wouldn’t be the last, either.

Chapter Text

A merger undertaken for the purpose of ‘freezing out’ minority shareholders may be enjoined or set aside by a court if there is no legitimate business purpose for the transaction other than to oppress minority shareholders.

“Sorry to interrupt you sir…”

He repeats the passage in his mind as the suit next to him, a Pettifogger, tries to speak to him with futile results.

A merger undertaken for the purpose of ‘freezing out’ minority shareholders may be enjoined or set aside a court if there is-

“It is with great disappointment that I must inform you…“

…If there is no legitimate business purpose for the transaction-

“SOU-6690 cannot be rebuilt.”

other than to oppress minority shareholders.

No immediate answer. The Pettifogger stands rigid and unsure as his superiors’ head finally snaps up and away from the book he’s clutching. He opens his mouth in anticipation, before letting the words out. “…I have informed you of his status, just as you’ve requested.”

Continued silence. The steely eyes of ROU-6689 stare through his subordinate as he snaps the hefty law book shut. A terrifying sight for the Pettifogger no doubt, but fitting for ROU’s Backstabber status.

“That will be all.” A calm and controlled voice no doubt laced with a sharp and dangerous tone. Today is not a good day. Knowing better than to stick around, a curt nod is all that is given as the Pettifogger stiffly escapes the room.

Perfect timing too, as the book on law is flung across the office, colliding with a nearby stack of books.

Five. Five times he’d put in the extra labor to run a building, even becoming the boss of one! What did he have to show for it? Old Paperwork and another bill for toon insurance. Pinching his nose, ROU paces around his office. In a moment of restlessness, he plucks a book, no, tomb off one of his office shelves. Toons. Opening to the middle, ROU gazes passage after passage. One catches his eye. A court case prior to the Lawbot HQ restructuring.

He’d heard of the stories. The rumors of years back, when C.O.G.S inc still ran a judicial style court. Suits who were forced to defend toons suddenly finding themselves looked down upon by superiors and subordinates alike. An open season of backhanded remarks, authority questioning and workplace discrimination. 

Back then, if you didn’t care enough to fight fairly for the toon and mucked around during the trial, your competence in law was put under fire. Rough no doubt, but ultimately the storm would pass, and things would go back to normal.

If you fought fairly or worse, successfully defended the toon, then you were put under fire. Not your job competence. Not your work experience. You. Your reputation, your work ethic, your purpose in C.O.G.S. inc as a whole. So on, so forth. It was all over if you were labeled a toon sympathizer. The tragic cost of doing your job too well.  

How any self respecting suit could deal with them is a miracle. Let alone those walking shambles of suits that willingly crawl to them. 

This whole situation is because of those toons. They’ve invented some ridiculous, new gag of sorts. One that’s too effective. His brother? Now taken by them. A seemingly impossible feat yet…

Opening the door and stepping out of his office, the clicking of his own shoes is the only company ROU has as he steps out of his office. Walking down the office hall, the recognizable, quiet ambiance of the office greets him as he steps into the elevator. 

Heading down.

ROU stares at his own hands. He’s the only one in the elevator, so his mind takes him away from one grim reality to another.

It’s happened before, a suit dying to a toon. It’s very possible and equally terrifying. Near two weeks of radio silence as to SOU’s status, then an abrupt memo. Unable to be rebuilt. Gone and out of his hands just like that.

Has the elevator always been this cramped?  

ROU leans his head against the elevator wall. 

Has the elevator always taken this long?

Has it always been this unbearable?

The ding of an elevator brings ROU hastily back to reality, as the Backstabber quickly straightens himself up, fixing his bowtie reflexively. He steps out onto the fourth floor of the office building, grimacing at the sight of the cramped, never ending hallway of rooms. The first five floors are always the worst. Now if only he had enough cogbucks to drop a day’s worth of pay on premium cigars.

An isolating march leads ROU down the left wing of the building, the ambiance of suits speaking in offices drowned into the droning noise of the fluorescent lights above.  

The static buzz becomes louder and louder as ROU’s metallic hand reaches forward, towards the dull doorknob of his brother’s office. Would it be like two weeks ago? His brother’s final moments, If he opened that doorknob again? Silent terror etched into his hard drive?

SOU was always quick to try and impress, like any Double talker. So when there was no sign of him, no messages, memos, nothing, ROU wasn't too worried at first. An unruly toon might have knocked him down a peg, causing him to need to be rebuilt.

That’s normal. Expected even, in this line of work! The problem? He wasn't assigned to work the field that day.

ROU’s hand rests on the doorknob. The memories flooding in. Dripping.

In an attempt to figure out where his brother is, ROU looks for SOU in his office. Brief knocking on his brother’s office door all the while ROU complains. Nothing. A confused call follows. No response. Finally, a tug at the door. It’s open? A low creak abruptly begins as ROU pushes forward, stepping inside. 

The sight in that dark room. His brother on the floor, both faces unresponsive as that sparkling, pink viscous fluid seeps out of their eyes, nose, mouth. A sinking feeling…and then…and then…

An empty office.

The next half hour is a blur. Monotonous subroutines take over as things are carefully placed into two, small boxes. Four photo frames. Three fountain pens, five thick notebooks, three textbooks and one copy of ‘Animal Farm’ by George Orewell. Everything must go.

How much time has passed?

The Backstabber blankly stares off, outside of what was once ROU’s office. He barely registers the bloodsucker with his own boxes strolling inside, let alone the scrunched, mildly confused look he gets from the subordinate cog.

If the elevator ride down was painful, the one going up is torture. It doesn’t take long for ROU to arrive at his office. When he does, he realizes how wrapped up and over the process is. A small, red box is on his desk. Gently placing the boxes with SOU’s things, careful, measured steps lead him to lift the weighted object, and open.

A Lawbot pendant.

The static buzz makes itself known once more. One hundred and eighty-nine processes going through his mechanical brain a second. ‘ A merger undertaken for the purpose of ‘freezing out’ minority shareholders- He’s going to rip out his circuits if any more begin.

The red box is closed. ROU moves to put it with SOU’s things, but a sudden, aching feeling freezes him on the spot. That passing thought of premium cigars is beginning to feel like an inevitable impulse purchase.

“Stress is what keeps Suits like us going. It gives us purpose. You know better…” The Backstabber mumbles, to an audience of zilch. A phrase he’d speak to SOU when things become tough. “It gives me purpose.”

————————

A decently cool breeze through blossoming streets. The smell of flowers overpowering a now absent haze. It seems unreal, the lack of cogs here. Chim E. Churri ponders as he sips at his berry smoothie. The sight of Tulip Terrace now could make an older toon cry. The cogless streets harking back to halcyon days prior to the cog invasion. To the cowboy dressed monkey? It’s thrilling, satisfying and a tad unnerving.

Stepping away from The Salad Bar, he adjusts the bandana around his neck as he makes his way down to the end of the street. In a twist of morbid curiosity, the toon stops in front of the sign that blocks Sellbot HQ. It's a new addition to the street, put in place by the Toon Council. No toons under a certain rank, and Laff are allowed past this point. An announcement from Flippy and the Toon Counsel four days ago. Chim vaguely remembers he was paying PJ a visit when he caught it playing on her TV. First the dwindling of cogs on the street, and now toons are being warned to stay away from Sellbot HQ?

What is going on? Is it getting that bad?

Even he’s being affected. So much for earning a better Sellbot disguise. Another indefinite stretch stuck as a Glad Hander.

The dark, winding tunnel ahead groans solemnly as a caustic breeze passes through. Worse than usual from the lack of…anything. Have the birds stopped chirping? 

Turning to run off, Chim pauses. Something’s nearby. His heart rate picks up. In the corner of his eye, something listlessly shambles out of the tunnel. When did it arrive? It wasn’t there before! Oh, Walt…

A languid mess stumbles its way out of the darkness to reveal itself. Nearly unrecognizable, a name dropper enters.

It scrapes… sliding against the wall as it moves. A sickening trail of shimmering pink follows, sticking to the wall as it lethargically slides down to the dirt.

Chim gasps, remembering to breathe, despite the sight.

Run!! 

He begins to tremble in place.

What are you doing!! Escape to the playground! Pull out your gags now!! 

His mind is screaming as his legs and arms fail to work. The cog continues to approach. It claws at its neck. A choked gasp. “aaaugg-!” The name dropper fails in an attempt to gasp despite not needing to breathe. Frantic twitching as the sparkling fluid leaks from every crevice on the cog.

“!!!”

Liquid overtakes its voicebox. Some of it spilling into a trail on the dirt. Failing to vocalize, it speaks in delayed static, stumbling over the Toon Council’s fallible wooden blockade, inching closer. 

‘Blockade’. That implies protection. That shabby, wooden fence isn’t a warning. It’s a suggestion. Chim feels his Laff dropping by the second. You're a goner, Chim. You're a goner, and it's all your fault. All because you're too afraid to run, too afraid to fight back. What will it do when it grabs you? You are a failure of a toon, and it’s all your-

Water whizzes by, hitting the approaching name dropper square in the head. It’s seeping, green light drops to a hellish red before a loud cranking noise comes from the cog.

Normally, a cog spins before it explodes.

Chim didn’t have the grace period to duck.

A violent explosion of pink and gears erupts, splatting the mortified monkey. The cog's body drops like a 1-ton weight.

A wide stare. Chim inhales.

Is it over…?

A tap. Chim yelps, jumping up in shock as a deep voice behind him speaks up. “It’s you again. Chim, right?” Silly Billy speaks up, the neutral, unbothered expression on the deer contrasts the thousand-yard stare on the green monkey’s face. “Long time no see. I can’t believe they’ve blocked off Sellbot HQ either.” 

Huffing, Chim regains himself. “Y-ya used a…”

“Firehose, yes. You don’t have the squirt gag track yet?”

The green monkey toon waves about, pushing his sombrero back hastily. “ Nonono!!! Roll it back!! How…how in tarnation did ya just…suddenly arrive! We aren’t friends.” 

Yet after this, being friends with this weird deer would be mighty helpful. Maybe.

“I needed to defeat a name dropper for a task. They’ve been rare since Sellbots stopped leaving their HQ.”

“T-that’s all? Seriously?” Chim stutters in astonishment.

“Yeah. Were you trying to green yourself?”

“Wha- course not!” The flustered monkey quickly insists, embarrassed. “Augh…got this stuff all on me…”

An idle, uninterested glaze of a stare. “I’ve been calling it cake batter.” The black deer toon idly scratches his leg with his sneakered foot. “That’s what your low-laff friend said it tastes like.”

“Who?” An attempt is made to wipe off the ‘cake batter’, but it smears and stubbornly clings to Chim’s fur.

“That orange cat with you a few days ago.” Silly stares at the pickings from his ear, flicking them away. Chim squints and holds back his tongue. “How are they doing?”

“Semi? They’re fine! W-why did ya…” A realization. Semi tasted it. The strange liquid. Cake batter? “Oh. Uh…you mean when they tasted that stuff?” Suddenly processing where he is, the monkey eeks, scrambling away from the headless name dropper. No chance he’s standing near that mess.

Regaining himself, Chim pauses. “Cake batter…huh…?” The monkey’s head idly turns from the barren tunnel ahead to the casually dressed deer toon beside him, pondering multiple choices.

 For one, this toon. Silly Billy. Such a strange character! A frowning toon is a concerning toon! The voice of Chim’s mother echoes in his head as he eyes the deer. Silly Billy seems so… unbothered. His default, stern expression makes him feel almost cog-like.

“I’m gonna go in there.”

Chim’s jaw drops. “You’d be going against the Toon Resistance! You’d get hurt! D-don’t be foolish!”

“I want to get up and close to the madness. See what exactly is affecting these cogs and if toons can take advantage of it.” Shifting through pockets, Silly Billy shuffles songs on his music player. “Not that it matters. I’m obligated to.”

“A-are ya some sort of strange uber?”

“No. But, I can’t ignore the toon who wants me to scope the place for him.”

“A friend wouldn’t force you to do such a dangerous task.”

Silly, midway through putting his headphones back on, he gives a dry laugh and a head shake. “You’re right. We aren’t friends. We work together.”

Regaining his prior confidence, Chim steps up to Silly Billy. A hopeful gleam in his eye. “I’ll be ya friend. I mean after ya saved me! I’d like to be friends.”

Clicking his teeth as if he were obligated, the purple-shirt deer takes out his Shtickerbook, letting Chim write his name and contacts. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been through rough stuff plenty of times.”

Headphones slide onto waiting ears as Silly steps back. Chim speaks up, a wary expression. “Whisper to me when you’re outta there! If ya don’t get back to me in 12 hours, I’m gonna alert the resistance!” A brief nod and wave is the only response the cowboy-dressed monkey gets. Tapping the center of the music player, Silly Billy Sparklesparkle dashes and hops over the destroyed cog and the barricade like nothing, speeding down that desolate tunnel.

Chim stares at the space beside him as if to will the other toon back to him. He’d be out of danger and safe with him. No toon deserves to throw themselves into harm like this. If only he could just wish Silly Billy back.

But he cannot.

————————

“You’re snappier than usual.” A double talker speaks up with both faces. He stands in an unchanging, black shimmering void. 

“Of course I am!” Exasperated, ROU throws up his hands. “How in Cog Nation did you catch Laff syndrome! Nevermind that it has been seeping around Cog Nation like an oil spill!”

“You speak of this as if I intended to,” SOU raises an eyebrow. “Not that I remember acquiring it in the first place.”

A moment of silence.

“Is there something else going on?” The Double Talker, SOU asks. A wavering tone.

“I was worried for you.” A subconscious step forward. The Backstabber fails to notice he does so.

“That’s a brave thing to admit.”

“Is it really? I feel silly. Ridiculous like those toons.” ROU shakes his head.

“Maybe you are. Maybe…you should be.”

That’s not something SOU would say.

ROU wakes up disoriented on his work desk. Papers surround him and his office is comparable to a natural disaster. It’s been a week since the news came out and things have only gotten harder.

Pushing aside loose papers covered in drawings of circles, the Backstabber takes four premium cigars and the red box with SOU’s pendant on his journey to…somewhere else.

He needs to get out of this damned office. ROU pays no mind to the stern, peeved looks from other Lawbots as he pushes and shoves his way into that sickening elevator. Freed from its confines, the Backstabber wanders out of the building in a haze. One particular stumble almost leads him tumbling down the HQ stairs and face planting in the middle of Lawbot HQ.

Almost. A stray hand catches him by the cuff of his suit.

“Woah there! Are you alright?” A rather bold voice speaks up, helping ROU to regain his balance. He fails to process the cog in front of him. 

“You’re a Sellbot…” 

“That I am. You, my friend, look as though a toon has run through your office.” The cog speaks, patting ROU’s back. “Apologies. it’s an old habit of mine.”

“And who exactly, are you supposed to be?”

“Ah. Mover Shaker ANM-4877 at your service. W hat’s bothering you, aside from me.” ANM rather cheekily speaks up.

“ROU-6689. Plenty bothers me, including you .” The Backstabber brushes ANM off as he slides a cigar out of his suit pocket, lighting it with well timed precision. Second nature at this point. “My issues are none of your concern. Stress is good for a suit.”

“Stress like what you have? Cog no. That’s not at all good, and I’m quite well aware of it.”

The Mover and Shaker falters, seeing the absolute expression of contempt and annoyance the Backstabber gives him. ANM hesitates, holding out a hand as ROU begins to leave.

“Wait! My apologies. That was insensitive, wasn’t it?”

Quick maneuvers taken by ANM go ignored as SOU speeds towards the entrance to the Coal and Ice District.

“Please? Tell you what!” ANM stumbles as he catches up to the escaping Backstabber. “Are you currently busy? Perhaps we can get lunch?”

“ Why in Cog Nation would I eat lunch with you. ”

“Uh…it’s on me? Yes! I’ll take care of it all!” ANM waves his hands frantically, finally catching up to ROU.

So that’s how he ended up in Mozzarella Styx, huh…? 

Sitting at a booth across from the Mover Shaker, ROU idly draws a circle on a dusty napkin container. No mind is paid to his lack of interest.

“-that’s how I dealt with that toon. Quick and painless, yeah?” ANM asks, his hands tapping the tabletop.

“ Mmmmhmm .” A condescending hum escapes ROU. He sets down the slice of Tomato pizza back onto his plate. Nowhere near as good as last time. It honestly tastes quite…rushed.

“Gee. I feel the love radiating from those words.” ANM responds, leaning back. ROU idly focuses on the Sellbot’s lips as he sips from a half melted, Blue flavored slushie. “What’s wrong with you? Seriously.” ANM curiously inquires, tilting his head slightly.

“Show some respect for me. I can hardly focus on anything with what’s been happening recently.”

“Feh! How do you think I feel? Sellbot HQ has been quarantined. I haven’t been back there for days now. Damn Laff syndrome…”

“Laff Syndrome…” The words roll off the lawbot’s tongue. As a first, ROU raises an eyebrow, leaning a bit closer to ANM. “Tell me more about that.

“That got your attention. Alright. I’ll tell you what I know.” The Sellbot leans closer. The pair locked in a rather morbid engagement.

“I was sent to work for a building before things hit the fan,” ANM whispers in a hushed voice, channeling in an ‘inner Mingler’ as he gossips. “I overheard the foreman speaking about the amount of suits that caught Laff Syndrome…” He leans closer. ROU reciprocates. A whispered, unbelievable amount. The Backstabber nearly drops his pizza slice then and there as the Sellbot sits back. “I couldn’t believe it either. All of them are gone, just like that. The numbers are getting bad, too. I’m pretty sure the only one that hasn’t caught it is the Junior Vice President.

“And that’s because…?” ROU prompts.

“He rarely goes outside.”

“Huh. Good to know they’ll at least survive. I suppose.”

ANM continues. “I attempted contacting a co-worker of mine earlier today. As if the decreasing number of suits isn't bad enough… they caught a toon at Sellbot HQ. Apparently, it was ‘researching’.”

ROU takes another bite of pizza. He continues to draw circles. ”Mhmm.”

”Are you listening anymore? What are you doing?”

”Apologies. The topic is just boring. ”

“Boring? What?”

“Huh?”

ROU glances up as ANM gives him a strange look. The Mover Shaker speaks up. “What are you doing?”

The Backstabber glances at his free, left hand. 

Oh.

Abstract clusters of circles small and large flow across the dusty table. Such is an outlandish, subconscious action. Something slid to ROU out of the corner of his eye. Hesitating, ROU stares at the napkin, before swiping it across the dusty circles.

Ambient, looping music fills in the absence of conversation. Why did he do that..? Absolute…nonsense. A year ago, he’d never do something like this, yet now, the random drawings and doodles have been happening more frequently.

An attempt to try and salvage the conversation. “That toon…where is it now?” ROU inquires.

“It’s being temporarily transferred to Lawbot HQ ironically enough. The suits at Sellbot HQ have enough to deal with as is.”

Processes begin to pile up again. It’ll be at Lawbot huh…? An idea worms its way into ROU’s mind. As a moment of silence passes once more.

Eyes scrutinize the part of the table where the shapes were. The hesitation is clear on the Mover and Shaker’s face as he hushes to a whisper, speaking his mind freely. A rarity for employee ranked cogs, mostly kept behind closed doors. “ …It seems you’ve been going through a lot. Were those circles… some sort of…stress response?” 

“No! It was just a worthless mistake. Stress? You should be worried about yourself. Since you’re being so familiar with me, What have YOU been going through? .” ROU scoots back in the booth, his defenses increasing.

“My best friend was one of the first ones lost to Laff Syndrome.” ANM’s voice is serious for once, staring at ROU with an unreadable expression. “I was promoted twice within one month. The first promotion, I was loaded with work due to the rising number of suits….dying. The second, the one I’m at now? Nothing. Barely any work, and I can’t get back to my cubicle.”

The Backstabber’s defenses lower slightly. “I apologize for your loss. I…a close family member of mine has recently…” The words grow weaker and faint.

“Is that why?”

“Yes.”

“I see. I’m sorry for your loss. I…I’m being as efficient as I can in spite of this mess. It’s what GLN would have wanted.”

ROU thinks back to his dream earlier. How he’s been acting so strange.

“Maybe you should be.” That cursed phrase worms itself back into his mind. In silent appreciation, the Lawbot takes out two of the premium cigars. Offering one to ANM, he lights his own.

“Appreciated.” The Mover Shaker doesn’t complain one bit. Placing the cigar in his mouth, ANM leans forward as ROU lights the gifted cigar for him. “Though…with this conversation, I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh? What’s on your mind, Sellbot?”

Easily brushing those words off, ANM continues. “A sudden, nation and company-wide emergency, with the usual stresses of infringing toons? On top of that-“

“Stress is what keeps Suits like us going. It gives us purpose. You know better.”

You’d think that,” ANM halts. Best to word this carefully. Anyone could be listening. “You’d think that, but have you noticed? Despite this epidemic quickly becoming uncontrollable… the higher ups at Boardbot haven’t stepped in. Shouldn’t they have stepped in by now?”

An unsure look drifts across the Backstabber. He’s already answered just by demeanor alone.

Nervous tapping. ANM slowly opens his mouth, posing a query. “If Suitopia caught word of what’s happening here, what do you think would happen?”

————————

ROU violently kicks at the lowered interrogation cage, forcing the toon to scoot away from the bars. It’s been a long hour. “Spit at me again, toon, and you’ll regret it.” A recently sharpened metal finger runs across his head. You aren’t going anywhere until we get information on what’s been happening. I suggest you start speaking.”

He’d finally gotten a moment alone with this creature. It had taken hours of persuading his Big Wig superior, but he’d done it in spite of the annoyance. The Backstabber nearly sees red as this insolent deer crosses his arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been captured for days now. It is clear you’re not some pathetic little shopkeeper, nor a child that doesn’t know better. Now TALK.” Metal bars harmonize, as the vibration of ROU’s metal fist hits against three.

“What were you doing at Sellbot HQ? I won’t ask again.” ROU sneers. “Actually, maybe I will. I’ll drop your laff back down just before the brink. Then perhaps you’ll cooperate.”

The captured Silly Billy’s ear twitches. He stays still; a stony expression compliments his silence.

The cog finally boils over. “So be it, Toon. So be it.”

Indifference. It's a blessing and a curse at C.O.G.S Inc. Being indifferent to a manager or a boss could end with a free pink slip—that was a given. But your coworker? Your underling? Hell, even a superior if you were slick about it. Everyone else is free game—an open season of indifference. 

That's why the Backstabber can rest easy as he stabs, cuts, and slices this toon with the precision that befits his status. Truthfully, he left it within an inch of its laff. The indifference of his boss and the cogs neighboring his office will allow this to slide right under the radar. 

ROU makes sure to take his time. Slicing at the toon for each and every little noise it makes, no matter how small. How he has cherished this moment. Payback for the disrespect, the spitting, the absolute non-compliance of this weak, worthless pest . 

An idle, ink-soaked hand draws a circle on a failed print sheet before the cog wipes his hands clean.

“I am not your friend toon. You might think I’ll let you go sad. Go sad so you can crawl and sink away back to the rest of your pathetic kind. I won’t. I’ll keep you hanging on just enough. Mark my words.” 

An internal cheer erupts as ROU spots the captured deer flinching. Its expression is wide with fear. Finally, it’s afraid of him! “Talk, I said!”

“I-I’ll tell you…” Silly Billy shields, scooting away from the cog. “Just stop…I can’t take it anymore…” Injured and disoriented, the toon tries to cover his wounds. “You should know…”

“Get on with it!”

“Y-you should know…I won’t tell you a thing. Over. My. Dead. Body. ” Another fakeout.

So, the Suit torments Silly Billy again. 

And again. 

And again . 

Six hours.

Six hours of nothing. All the same, with no progress.

ROU’s eye twitches as he stares. Exhausted, miffed, and sick of this toon, he rubs the creases of his eyes and unceremoniously flops back into his office chair—just to rest his eyes. He can’t.

Silence overtakes the office in yet another dead end. ROU taps his fingers against the desk impatiently.

“I can’t stand you.” His sharp tongue swiftly cuts the maddening silence.

Silly Billy says nothing in response, recovering.

“How can a weak toon have such a foolish, iron will. How you creatures can be so silly and nonchalant as things begin to fall apart here, in Cog Nation.”

Silly Billy bites his lower lip, halting his instinct to correct ‘Cog Nation’ to ‘Toontown.’

“It didn’t take long to bring you to one laff, so why?” The Backstabber continues.

No response.

“I just…I don’t understand it. Am I missing something?” Opening his eyes, ROU sits back up. He doesn’t register his trembling. “All of this…madness happening? It must be your fault. It’s always the fault of toons!”

The death of his brother.

The indifference of his job.

The stubbornness of this toon.

Indifference is a curse, too.

In a rush of grievance, ROU scribbles haphazardly away at his own paperwork, letting the ink of his pen soak and blotch essential documents. During the madness, A singular paper flutters down to Silly Billy, who pulls it into the cage with him. A single circle on the page waits for its potential. Of course, it’s not enough. 

Scraping harshly at the imposing walls of his oh-so-prestigious office, the cog scrapes and scrapes until he feels his fingers begin to dull. That isn’t enough either, to satisfy his breakdown.

He sweeps everything off his desk, smashing expensive pens, cigars, and documents beneath his feet until the ink of the pens splotched on him and everywhere else. It isn’t nearly enough to satisfy his breakdown.

Finally, Silly Billy speaks up. He rests his dull, weary body against the bars of his cage as he slowly recovers laff. The spectacle of this cog amuses him. “Regular cogs aren’t supposed to act like this. You’re all pre-programmed husks.”

ROU drops to the stone floor, clutching his head.

“Something is fundamentally wrong with you.”

No response. The deer toon tries to push further. 

“I might be in a cage, but I am freer than you’ll ever be here.”

The suit curls up. Errors engulf his interface as his vision fades in and out of darkness.

Silly raises an eyebrow at this display. How pathetic for such a ‘scary’ cog. Biding his time, a rogue hand picks up a partially broken pen, beginning to draw idly. 

A persistent glimmer finally catches the deer’s attention. An easily accessible brass key hangs from the cog’s side. His opportunity to get out of here has revealed itself. 

Reaching, reaching. Out of the cage in a snap. Purple eyes gaze over the lawbot in shambles for only a brief moment. Nothing more. The escape is trivial from that point forward.

————————

Shaking. A worried voice. Who? Someone’s talking to him. How much time has passed? ROU barely registers his ANM's voice. He’s fine. It’s fine. Why’s he so worried? For no reason, nonetheless. Stress is good for a cog.  

Swatting away at ANM, ROU stands up a tad too quickly. He pats around his blazer, feeling the small pendant box is still there. When did ANM get here? As he stands, his mind tries to catch up. Something…Something…Wasn’t there something in this cage? Stumbling to it, he notices something.

 Lifting a hand, he slowly reaches, picking up a paper inside. It’s one of his circles. It’s different.

The Backstabber stares long…and hard. Contemplating what he is seeing, he ignores his increasingly distressed associate. It finally clicks. 

“I understand. I understand it now.” An abrupt, flat statement leaves his mouth, to his detriment.

Chapter Text

“Hello? Hello…?” 

At the sound of their friend, Semi perks up. “Heya! I can hear you. Where are you? I thought you were gonna help me defeat some cogs!” 

On the other end of the phone line, P.J. MacRoni balances a stack of fruit pies, barely placing them all onto the table ahead of her. “I was, but stuff came up Semi…” the dark blue dog toon wipes her forehead, adjusting the phone cord. “Me and a few others have been asked to help deliver gags to the Gag Shop up at The Brrrgh. There’s a lotta powerful toons here!”

”Whaaat?! When did this pop up?” The simply dressed orange cat sits back displeased, letting out a groan. “You promised!”

”I know I promised. I’m sorry. Look, a lot of things have been happening recently, and the hubbub in the Brrrgh has picked up. I just don’t have time to help you with your tasks anymore.” 

A muffled clang echoes through the receiver. as  P.J. Pops open an empty gag barrel. “Maybe you should meet up with toons who have similar tasks, huh? You can’t always rely on me, Pinky and Chim to help you.”

Semi slumps as they frown, not saying a word in response.

“Sorry if that wasn’t nice…I only say it cause well, that’s how me and Chim met! So now…it’s your turn to meet new people. Put yourself out there Semi! There’s no need to be so-“ P.J. halts mid speech, the muffled audio of background toons becoming more noticeable.

“Hey, I gotta go. I’m sorry again, but remember what I said, ok? See ya later.” A click, and steady dial tone follows. 

Now what?

Letting out a loud sigh, the chubby orange cat hops off the bench. Unenthusiastically staring off, they sit and watch the sparse amount of cogs here and there pass by. Stagnant fog smothers Anchor Avenue, allowing for Semi’s mind to wander. Vague words from a prior, offhanded conversation begin to waft to the forefront of Semi’s mind. A cog somewhere in Barnicle apparently can affect the weather. Now if only that cog can make it sunny. That’d be amazing right about now.

Nearly a week of thick, foggy unending weather. Weather like this would drive anyone crazy, cog or toon alike. Souring the landscape even more, large pools of…. that cake batter lay everywhere, sticking to everything like Sticky Lou’s glue. Picking off patches of dried goop off their legs, Semi turns to head back to the playground.

That is, until something green passes them. Rather quickly.

“Hello?” A warning call as Semi reels around. Taking two steps forward. “Hello…? Any toons nearby?”

Okay. Well, that was spooky. Was it a Cashbot? Can cogs even move that fast? A train of thoughts instantly crashes as that green blur appears behind them. Rabbit ears! It's definitely a toon! 

“Hey! That’s not very nice! I can barely see you!”

Green ears sink back into the depths of the fog just as quickly as the orange cat spots them! “Hey! Hold on! Where are you going?”

A blind rush ahead into a stumble. Slipping in a particularly large pool of the goop, Semi peels themself out of it as they head forward. Another flash of green ears keeps them lured. Their slipping and stumbling leads them the opposite way of Barnicle Boatyard, finding themself in front of a tunnel. 

The weighty fog hangs low. Waving stubby arms gives just enough clearance for Semi to make out the sign above. Rather, the lack of one. “The dead end road..?” An astonished whisper. The toon’s gloved, pink soaked hand wavers in front of their face as they stare in awe.

There’s no blockade. Nothing! In all the time they’ve been in Toontown, that blockade was always there and quite clear with its messaging. ‘Under Construction. Do not enter.’

Ahead, the rabbit toon stands, gazing back at Semi as if frozen in time. Their outfit is quite pristine, without a single speck of shimmering pink. A red and white button shirt, and a long, high waisted blue skirt. They look very nice, if a bit out of place.

Silence. The strange toon refuses to break their gaze on Semi as they abruptly turn, strolling deeper into the immeasurable darkness of the tunnel. Jaw dropping, Semi squeaks in shock. You aren’t allowed to go past blockades! What are they thinking?! Yet… there’s no blockade here. At least, not anymore.

A host of thoughts set themselves into the toon’s mind. The voices of P.J. and Pinky warning them. A curious but ultimately dismissive Chim. All those thoughts are swept away as quickly as they arrive. A central thought overtaking all else. 

What could be on the other side of that tunnel? 

An itching step forward. If that one toon walked in no problem, surely they can, no? Another step. Semi stares into the border of the beyond. If anything happens, well ,  they’d just go sad and end up at the playground. A risk to their gags, but no real harm.

Perhaps a peek won’t be so bad.

————————

Exhausted. Exhausted with everything, P.J. MacRoni flops face first onto her couch. Her usual toon tasks have grinded to a halt. In place of them, the task of sending surplus out to different playgrounds. It’s non-stop, but at least it’s for good reasons. The  dark blue dog pats around. A familiar shape with textured buttons. Pressing the largest, textured button, the Tv turns on at once.

“-historical moment today, truly! What do you think, Super Po’boy?” A red kangaroo news host turns to the other anchor.

The other news anchor, a yellow pig, speaks up just as ecstatic. “Nothing like this has happened since that operation a few years back! Even then, not to this extent! I mean, I’ve been through cog battles like everyone else, but I’ve never seen them just drop midway through like they do now!”

“For any toons tuning in now, haha , earlier today a historical moment has just taken place. The complete downfall of Sellbot HQ! You heard it here folks, Sellbot HQ is no. more.” 

This is new. P.J. sits up, the last of her attention focusing on the tv ahead.

The red kangaroo shakes her head. She can’t even believe the words coming from her own mouth. “With Mayor Flippy’s greenlight, and Lord Lowden Clear’s tactics, Toons have managed to take back control of the stolen land, which has been occupied for over 20 years now!”

“Twenty years? Chili Crisp…that doesn’t sound right. …Hasn’t it only been Five years?” the Super Po’Boy raises an eyebrow, turning to look at Chili Crisp.

“Uh, no? It’s been twenty. That PB and Jelly fish incident has left you with a messed up sense of time I swear-“

“I’m being serious! It’s only been 5 yea-“

“ Our debate aside!” Chili Crisp interrupts. “Here’s the recorded speech Resistance Ranger Rain gave us in regards to the matter earlier today, if you can play it, please?”

A jarring tv cut to a grey and pink wasteland. No cogs in sight, only light shining through breaks in the dark clouds light the scene. In front of the  main Sellbot HQ building, resistance ranger Rain stares off to the side. They kept this in the recording? A remorseful glaze of a stare. She notices the camera focusing on her, her expression quickly changing.

“ oh. I-It’s with great honor and assurance that today, the barrages of phone calls, the fake smiles, the kidnappings , are no more! Sellbot HQ is no more! It is finished! We’ve won this long, tiring battle!”

Offscreen hoots, cheers and clapping can be heard from a crowd of resistance members, simmered to a rolling bubble before the purple fox continues.

“I am proud to be here! I’m proud to have done my part in taking back Toontown one step at a time! She lets in a deep breath, as she swipes at that pink goop that stains her fur. 

“I wouldn’t be here without Scout, who I’d like to give a personal thank you to, along with everyone else here. This moment marks a shift. One that will end in our favor! Toontown is OUR town, and no amount of cogs or pink slime is gonna change that!” Sliding off one of her Sellbot crusher lanyards into the air, Rain yells. An uplifting yell, if a bit exasperated. “ Toons of the world, unite!”

Impressive cheering grows tenfold as the mid-sized grouping of high leveled resistance members yell and shout with mirth. Resistance ranger Rain stands proud and statuesque, but the moment the camera and mic turn to face Flippy, she slouches into the background. The glaze reappearing.

Not that P.J. notices. Sudden, frantic knocking forces her attention to the front door. She peels her face off of the couch cushion, yelling. “Come in!!” Only to howl and jump up as Chim practically bursts inside. His colors are dimmer than usual. “What on earth?! Walt!! Chim what is wrong with-“

“He ain’t called back yet! He’s missing!” 

“What are going on about?” Quickly, hopping to her feet, The dark blue dog approaches her friend cautiously. “Hey, hey…I’m here. Calm down…” A hand reaches out as an offer. “Can I pat you?”

“Y-yeah…”

The reached out hand moves, patting Chim’s shoulder, then moving to rub his back. Tremors and harsh breathing begin to ease, ebbing and weakening once a few moments pass.

“Okay. Feeling better? Can you explain what’s going on…?”

A thick swallow. “Remember that one deer that ran into us? Silly Billy?”

“Vaguely…what about them?”

“He…he’s gone missin… Walt, I told him he shouldn’t have…I did… I did… ”

“Hey hey! I believe you!” P.J. reassures at the sight of her friend beginning to panic. “What happened?”

“The fella ran into Sellbot HQ! He’s been missin for almost two days! I…I reported it, but they haven’t been able to find him neither…”

“Sellbot HQ? That place has been taken over by toons now! We took it back!”

A flat stare of confusion, then momentary terror flashes across Chim’s face. “When’d this happen?!”

“I dunno! A few hours ago? Why?”

“If Sellbot’s toon territory now, Do ya think we can find him there? We gotta get to Sellbot, pronto!”

“Okay, okay, okay.” A frantic wave of hands, like a lost soul on a lifeboat manages to quiet down the paranoid monkey. “Let me grab some gags, and I’ll help ya find this Silly Billy guy…okay?” She rubs her mildly sunken eyes. No response from Chim. “ Okay…?”

“Y-yeah…Yeah that’d be best, huh?” He’s back to Earth. Thank goodness. The thought floats by as the blue dog sighs. First, let’s grab Pinky. We’ll swing by Sellbot HQ, and if he isn’t there, then we’ll check the Toon HQ. If anyone has a heads up, it’s them.

“ What if they don’t…?” The green monkey quietly eeks, burying himself into the other toon’s shoulder. 

P.J. Slowly pats him. "We’ll figure something out. It’s the best that we can.”

————————

Exiting, Semi squints as they look at the sun above. It’s a short walk like any other tunnel. On the other side, a small silent courtyard of sorts. Shanty shacks surround the area, along with a moat of sorts. On the far end of the area lies another unmarked tunnel. No pools of cake batter here.

Glancing at themself, Semi grimaces. Dirty. Just by being here they’re dirtying this place. They itch at their arm, but it only causes the cake batter to spread and smear. Prying attention away from themself, the small, chubby feline carefully steps to the moat surrounding the courtyard. Glass-like, unmoving water stares back. So clear that beyond their reflection, they can see the stone covered bottom of the stagnant moat. 

A slow step back. Their heartbeat pounds like that of a marching band. The only thing making noise here is them. Out the corner of their eye, the green rabbit appears once more. Semi’s bones nearly jump out of their body.

The strange toon steps around the courtyard, as if inspecting it. They mutely meander around this mini courtyard. Semi takes a step forward, biting their lip, before speaking lowly and hoarse. “Where are we? Who are you…?”

No response. Black eyes continue to track the orange cat as they approach.

“Can you talk? I know a little sign language. Um…like, yes and no…”

Nothing.

“Can you at least tell me where I am?”

“…”

“Can…can I stay with you?” Semi’s ears lower as an aching feeling takes over. This place is awful. Too clean. too quiet. Too unusual. At least cog buildings have churning, typing and boring voices chatting. This place? It’s like an abyss.

A cold, gloved hand startles Semi. “W-wait! I don’t wanna get your gloves all pink, and-” Glancing up, they feel the Green rabbit’s hand holding theirs, gently leading them to the tunnel. Still inquisitive, the orange cat toon glances around the courtyard one last time, stepping along with the rabbit. A groaning wind beckons the pair inside the second tunnel. “Do you live around here or something?”

Sinking. Unable to see the unknown around them, Semi tightly grips their hand during the disorienting long walk through the second tunnel. Stepping, stepping. My legs feel sore again. A wrist tap symbols the rabbit to stop, who patiently waits as Semi catches their breath. Then, the walking continues. Just as things begin to blur, and hallucinations flicker and edge into their eyesight, the pair exit.

“That walk was brutal, I’m so glad we-“ Words meet the wind. The startled feline looks at their hand, then around in a circle. The rabbit’s gone again! “This isn’t funny!” Semi calls, a tinge of annoyance. 

Around them, lies a construction sight? No, a street under construction. Uncannily pristine like that courtyard, it mimics Toontown Central in a strange way. If Central were dim and desaturated. Unlabeled, partially built Toon shops span the perimeter, down the street and up a hill. Farther out, tall cog like buildings loom in the distance under perpetual twilight. Untouched machinery and steel beams litter the landscape, as do neatly placed dirt piles. The cherry on top? A single, finished fountain with no water, smack dab in the grassy street center.

“Hello? Hello…? Where are you?”

Stepping deeper into the construction zone, Semi squints. They run a hand against multiple beams, inspecting piles of dirt as they wander aimlessly. A few oddities pop up here and there.

A red balloon floating aimlessly. Its bright appearance contrasts the increasingly darkening construction zone. It takes some effort, but Semi manages to grab it! A small zap. Startled, Semi lets go, eyeing it warily.

Not far away, a thick, red book rests on a bench. Stepping up, eyes scour the cover. The Chief. A picture of a large, blindfolded cog Semi’s never seen before. Inside, a strange, bat looking key is used as a bookmark.

Opening it. A dense scrawl of words…something about law practices. The cat feels their laff beginning to drain away at all of the sheer nonsense. Boring. The book is closed, moving on.

The farther they walk from the tunnel, the sterile atmosphere exudes a greater pressure. Semi feels like they’re standing at the bottom of a pool. I need to rest…but where? Panting, they spot something in the grass. An old rug. Perfect to lay on.

Approaching, a retro, steel lunchbox sits neatly on the carpet. An oddly convenient thing too, as their stomach reminds them of the lack of lunch today. Eagerly opening it reveals a pristine hot dog next to a cherry juice box. Reaching for it, Semi picks it up, and… cringes.

The inside is coated with thick amounts of dust, to the point where the feline gags at the sight. In a rush to close it, Semi’s eyes widen as they brush against the juice. Dust aside, the juice is still...cold. Who left this here? The green toon? Couldn’t be. This has to have been here for a while with how dusty the insides are. Regardless, Semi carefully closes the lunchbox, leaving it.

Finally, farther up the street, An old, patchwork airplane sits parked at a strange angle. Groaning, the orange cat reaches, hopping up in an attempt to pull themself up the side, into the cockpit. A straining task that thankfully yields success. 

Peeking inside, Semi loudly sneezes. In the back seat, a treasure chest with its contents lay spilled out on the seat. Chocolate coins? Interesting. In the front seat, a small square catches their eyes. An old photo! In it, a group of toons. One of them, a vaguely familiar deer toon, stands out among the rest. Semi picks it up, causing dust to scatter. Sneezing from the dust coated controls of the front console, the cat toon lets go of the plane.

A brief tumble sends them hitting the back of the stone pathway. A few feet away, the photo flutters, gently falling to the ground. A dazed groan, a few curses. Semi rubs the back of their head as they sit up. Quickly, the toon reaches for the photo, only to pause and stare ahead. 

This far out, the buildings are…gone. Construction abruptly halts to give way to a flat, grey landscape. The tall cog buildings in the distance are clearly visible, yet seem extraordinarily distant…

Okay. Strange, but not a complete deal breaker.  

“All that progress, and they stopped here?” A sentence spoken aloud to no reply, slowly shaking their head. No wonder why this place was blocked off. Despite it all, Semi’s heart pounds with anticipation. Maybe we can make this place better. Despite the strange energy, it has potential. Toontown has been so gloomy lately! No tasks, no time for games, nothing. Everyone’s sick of the sparkly cake batter pooling everywhere and onto everything. At this rate, Toontown’ll be one, pink ocean by the end of the year.

A nagging thought enters Semi’s head.

Share this place. Two cogs with one pie, really! This dreary but spotless place could become an oasis, until the cog fiasco goes away! An escape for weary toons away from the rapidly shifting atmosphere of the town. An endless city of steel beams and scaffolding could be a paradise! Reaching into their pocket, the toon slaps down their portable black hole, and jumps in. To Barnicle boatyard…

With a bit of help and building, and who knows what this place could be.

They leave, unaware of a certain, green toon stepping out from behind a building.

Chapter Text

A dream of scissors descending from the heavens, snipping him in half like nothing. Deleted. Silly Billy SparkleSparkle would thank them.

The walls of a gag shop greet him once more. The order? Stand here and wait. Stand and wait and do nothing again, as always. There’d be an inevitable call, to which he would then teleport, help his employer and whoever else, and teleport back. Rinse and repeat. A mind-numbing cycle that would make any other toon want to turn green and scream.

Silly Billy knows he isn’t special, but he’s not like any average toon, either.

In the meantime, he stands in his usual haze, failing to process the blurs of color that pass. To stand silent and unmoving for hours on end, not too far off from those cogs. Most of them, at least.

If he has to see another one of those fake, hollow imitations of toony personalities pranced around by those so-declared managers , He’d willingly rip out one of his antlers then and there. It’s not fair. A machine can have that, but he can’t?

His little tantrum wouldn’t matter anyway. He’d still be there, fighting with his employer. That fox…  

Such is the life of a multi-toon.

Standing….Silly Billy stares off until something forces his focus. A low buzz reverberates throughout his body,  growing as a green rabbit approaches. Another multi-toon? How can a mundane-looking rabbit feel so out of place? Regardless, they approach, stiffly stopping right within hand’s reach.

“You seem to be lost.” A voice gnaws at Silly Billy in the back of his head. It’s tone indecipherable. 

He continues not to respond.

“Do you know where you are right now?”

Silly Billy continues to ignore the toon. Must be a low laffer. They think he’s an actual toon.

“I will help you leave, on one condition. I have a message. I want you to say it to them, when you wake up. I will force you to remember it.”

The green rabbit stiffly points. The hazy apparition of Semi appears, standing faintly within sightline. The gag shop’s impossibly long. When did the orange cat arrive here?

“Now…listen closely.”

Frowning, Silly Billy raises an eyebrow as the green rabbit leans in. Low whispering. A wary, confused glance. Finished, the rabbit steps back, walking back into the colorful haze.

Should he even bother with this? A step forward. My employer won’t complain if I move just a little bit. Another step. Tapping on Semi’s shoulder, the cat turns around.

Silly Billy speaks, but nothing comes out. It doesn’t stop the orange cat’s expression change from confusion that slowly warps to an expression of terror. He doesn’t feel much as the orange cat drops to their knees. Groaning, they spit up some of that cake batter.

What a reaction. Silly Billy awkwardly looks around. It’s just him and the cat. He wants to help, but…

Stand and do nothing. You can’t do anything without permission from your employer unless it's fighting off a cog or too mundane for him to care.

Silly Billy stands, as the coughing gets worse. The cake batter leaves their body like that name dropper from before. He can’t move. He’s moved too much already, and his limbs feel like lead for it. The orange cat toon tugs at his purple shirt in desperation Walt…please make it end…

The deer’s wish comes true. The tugs become weaker and slower. The cat’s color slowly drains…. and fades.

They fall with an unceremonious thud. It’s over. It's over and done, but this toon is done for. He let it happen.

Everything smears over again, but this time, Silly Billy lets the fog take him. 

When it dissipates, he groggily wakes up on old hardwood boards. Boatyard?

A hazy, liminal view of a tunnel, just out of reach. Cradling his head, Silly Billy sits up, adjusting his skewed glasses. He escaped from that malfunctioning lawbot…and managed to sneak outside. Making his way back to The Brrrgh playground, he left for Barnicle Boatyard when…when…

A sharp pain spikes through Silly Billy’s head. Stop that. You’re thinking too hard. Stop thinking. Stern scolding edges into his mind. In the end, you ended up where you wanted to be. Attempting to stand, he feels faint. The black deer leans on a lamp post, uncaring of the cake batter sticking on him. Speaking of…

Now, at this moment? Silly can’t help but feel deep shame as his stomach drops. Every part of him below his midsection is pink. Coated in cake batter as if he’d been dipped or waded through it at some point. A Walt damned confectionary. 

The shame becomes a passing thought as another rolling headache returns to him. This round,he rubs his head, and feels a sudden surge of utter sickness.  

Where did my antler go?

————————

“What do you MEAN the trains have broken down! That’s impossible! You cashbots have proven to be quite useless in this time of need!” an outraged cry from a micromanager, held up by her rather paranoid Flunky assistant.

A Shyster speaks up, pushing past ANM and ROU rather hastily. “My sister is on board that train! You have to let me on!”

Running, pushing, and the occasional scream. The state of Cashbot HQ, and the results of a quickly deteriorating Bossbot HQ, followed by a hasty evacuation order.  

ANM bites his lip. A look of utter contempt. ‘An Evacuation’. Yeah right. They had been left to fend for themselves, just as he’d suspected. Worse, the lack of formal announcements, proper evacuation protocols, nothing . Everyone had waited for the evacuation protocols and paperwork expected in these types of situations, Any sort of sign that Boardbot HQ sees what’s happening and acts accordingly.

Nothing of the sort happened. Lawbot HQ crumbled shortly after. The moment cases of Laff Syndrome began cropping up at Bossbot HQ, Suits of every department finally damned protocols, abandoning desks and offices in a frenzy to rush for the Cashbot trains.

The news spread from an Insider of course. Not through sneaking around Boardbot, or overhearing managerial meetings. 

Not through being told by superiors or managers. The reality is, they were simply not let in. The entrance tunnel had been sealed. 

Large steel doors guard the tunnel. Who knows how thick or how many are behind the first pair? Supposedly, the bosses and some managers are holed inside. A curated safe haven for the most valued and whoever else was lucky enough to be inside at the time.

A rather rough push to the side. ANM snaps out of his lingering pessimism and grips ROU’s hand tighter. The pair Ebb and flow to the crowd's will pushed and shoved by Suits of all statuses. Any sort of previous order had died with Lawbot fittingly. The Mover shaker gawks momentarily as a frantic, highly strung Bean Counter somehow manages to shove a Head Honcho onto the tracks, in an attempt to get ahead. What’s left of Cog Nation’s a damn free for all.

“Please! There has to be some way to get out of here…I have family back in Coalorado!” A pleading cry here.

“I made it aboard! I don’t care, I can finally head home-” A relieved cry there, somewhere up ahead.

“This makes no sense. I should just propeller out of this hellhole.” A particularly heated Big Cheese crosses his arms, not so subtly nudging a Loan Shark suit off to his left side.

“Oh yeah, good luck with that-” The loan shark interrupts, an expression of loathing and vitriol. “If you want to break down over the middle of the ocean, then be my guest. Certainly would free up space here. Feh, If you’re lucky maybe you’ll crash and burn on an oil rig.”

“Excuse ME? And who do you think YOU are to talk to a superior like that ?”

“Just how delusional are YOU, to think I give a damn about your ‘superiority’ right now?”

Squeezing between the two, ANM hastily apologizes, tugging ROU as he continues forward. An unpleasant noise escapes his mouth as a number cruncher roughly shoves him out of the way to get ahead.

Ahead the first train lies, and as ANM approaches, the Mover Shaker’s stomach sinks with dread.

Inside, bodies press compact against thick glass, warping from the pressure as legions of suits perpetually try to get on and off the train cars. It makes the usual, mundane rush hour look like a private limousine . A surreal scene of constricting and contracting, beyond any sort of set capacity. ROU cringes, forced to endure the sounds of scraping metal and groans.

A scream and the sound of metal impacting marble breaks their attention. A Money Bags has hastily yanked down a telemarketer attempting to climb on top of the train. Catching onto the idea, it only takes seconds before more suits fight tooth and nail to ride on top of the train.

“We should go left. We can get to the other tracks from there…hopefully.” Turning around, ANM pats ROU’s arm before slipping back through the crowd.

Reaching the crossing, a chorus of screams and the blaring of a horn grabs everyone’s attention. On the second track, the train slowly begins to move forward. Swift cries from the unluckiest are quickly silenced as they fall onto the tracks, or are dragged under.

That train isn’t coming back. Many come to the same realization. Propellers activate as more try to hop on top of the trains. Some scramble on, taking cover while others are forced back down, either by who ever is controlling the crowd flow, or suits attempting to get ahead. The swarm grows. ANM steps back, staring as suits overload the station.

In sheer deep belief, a long sigh escapes the Mover and Shaker’s mouth. “T-this is a death trap…” A step backward leads him into the arms of the backstabber behind him, who in turn, snaps out of his dissociative state. A common occurrence ever since…

ANM pushes one of thirty simultaneous thoughts away. Now’s not the time.

“We…we have to get out of here.” ROU speaks up, patting ANM on the shoulders. “If we stay, we are more likely to be hurt than make it out.”

“We could walk the tracks….I mean, they lead out of Cog Nation.”

A glance towards the empty train track. The backstabber frowns. “It may be possible…but we’d have to find a means to fuel, or recharge.”

“You’re correct…we would run out of oil cans walking that far…” ANM runs his hand over his fixed hairdo the hundredth time today. “Not to mention…your tendencies to zone out now.”

“Malfunction. My malfunction .” ROU stares off, void of expression. “It isn’t going anywhere I’m afraid. Not that I would know how to fix it…”

“So. What now…” As three cogs rush past, ANM winces, breaking up the two as they rush ahead. “How are we gonna get through this…”

“I’m not sure. I…I do know there’s no point staying here.” ROU grips his companion? No…too casual… his acquaintances’ shoulder in support. 

“We should head to the sides.”

Ten minutes of maneuvering. The pair of cogs push and nudge their way through the tidal wave of metal, meandering towards the more barren side areas of Cashbot HQ. A collection of encampments and suits are here, with numerous broken into crates. The rush isn’t as bad, but spats between haves and have-nots are certainly common. The pair sit beside a broken crate, one previously filled with cogbucks.

Picking up one off the ground, the Backstabber mentally dissects the hundred bill in his hand.

“I feel like this bill.” ROU abruptly speaks up, curling up as he sits on the tile floor. “I used to be worthwhile. I had status. I had direction. I had SOU . Everything wasn’t perfect, hell no, it wasn’t— but I could always push through it. Now, with this disease happening…Cog Nation is doomed. This bill won't be worth the paper it’s printed on.” Letting go, the Lawbot watches as the hundred bill is blown away, eventually swept into the crowd. “I feel aimless. I can no longer process things as efficiently. I zone out, and mishear things. I feel toony. ”

ANM opens his mouth. What could he possibly even say? An ally? No…a friend perhaps, speaking in a moment of pure vulnerability? The mover shaker glances over, tapping the tile floor. “A lot has happened.” A slow start as he speaks. “You’re correct, Cog Nation’s collapsing, and everyone here must suffer because of the decisions of a minority.”

“Is it even worth trying?”

“I think it is. I’ve mentally calculated…there’s a ninety-nine percent you should—no, must continue to try.”

“An inflated statistic from a sellbot such as yourself…” ROU ruefully chuckles.

“No. It’s not inflated. I…f-forgive me if this comes off as horrendously informal, but…” ANN rubs his hands slowly, hesitating before truly communicating. “I believe you have a great sense of perseverance. Despite malfunctioning, you have persisted, continuing to stick out with me despite recently meeting me. Despite the fall of Lawbot HQ, you kept your brother’s pendant. You prevented it from being sold, stolen or damaged. There’s plenty here who can’t say the same.”

The Backstabber raises his eyebrow, but doesn’t look offended or confused. His expression is certainly… vulnerable.  

ANN’s body churns as he continues. “I— I would go as far as to establish…that you are very worthwhile to me. I’m glad you’re here…we can figure out something. A way to survive.”

I’m glad you’re here. The words hang between the two, and ROU slowly processes. He barely registers his left hand reaching out, holding ANM’s right. He locks fingers with the Mover and Shaker, which feels right.

“I— I’m glad you’re here, too.” ROU slowly turns, facing his counterpart. A flickering expression of hope. “When you’re near me, everything begins to slowly make sense again.”

————————

The road to finding Silly Billy is lined with unexpected appearances.

Case in point, a terribly exhausted Chim barely registers his tiara-wearing friend speaking as she drags Semi along behind her.

Day three of searching for the black deer with virtually no luck. Who was he kidding? Today marks the fifth, almost sixth day, if he counts his prior search prior to P.J. Despite being allowed to poke around Sellbot HQ with the help of a ranger, not a trace of Silly Billy’s potential whereabouts were found.

“No signs of the guy around Daffodil I’m afraid…” Pinkydink E. Doo rubs her arms, a red flag of resignation. “This toon must be hiding out at the racetrack or something…! I mean, where could he have possibly gone?”

Chim tilts his cowboy hat. “Ya checked with the Toon HQ there again, yeah?”

“Mmn. Nothing I’m afraid. They said they’ll keep an eye out too, of course.”

“We could try looking in the Construction Zone…” Semi offers, glancing at the fake clouds hanging over them. The chubby cat toon had followed along with the group, albeit quite disconnectedly. Sunken eyes warily shift towards flat buildings as a spike of pain shoots through their head. Groaning, the cat toon rubs their forehead.

“Yeahhhh, no. No thank you. That place gives me the creeps!!!” Pinky quickly protests, stepping forward. “As much as I hate to say it though…that’s not a bad place to look. The only one of us that’s been there is Semi…”

“Darn…I looked round Barnicle Boatyard hours ago…” Chim sighs, rubbing his sunken eyes. His gloved finger pinches around his neck, loosening the red bandana around his neck. “Is that ‘Construction Zone’ place an official playground now?”

“No clue honestly. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check.” P.J. steps in, crossing her arms as she glances at the group. “How about this? We’ll check Boatyard again on our way to The Brrrgh since we still need to go there. Reasonable, yeah?” Slow nodding makes its way through the group, so she begins to move ahead—a subtle means of taking the reins. A much needed opportunity for Chim to clear his mind. 

Moving down Wacky Way, Toons wander about, slowly attempting to clean the streets, or chatting animatedly. No traces of cogs, or destroyed parts and pieces of them. A nearly serene atmosphere if not for drifting foreboding clouds, a rather unfortunate and common sight. One that makes longing for a truly clear sky hang float around the general public. Steps reverberate as the group silently marches forward, to Toontown Central. 

 Chim ‘ooks’ quietly to see where he’s been tapped. Pinky’s closer than usual, practically rubbing arms with the chunky monkey after gaining his attention. 

“I’m not the only one noticing the changes, am I?” the small, pink mouse continues to look ahead as she quietly whispers to Chim. A slight head turn towards Semi. A grimace from the green monkey is all she needs for an answer.

He reads between her lines. Something is wrong with Semi. Something concerning too, if she’s this quiet about it.

A silent, unanimous issue that’s started quite recently. It’s no secret that the rambunctious low laffer who always wants to take on challenges…is now… something . Ever since finding that strange playground, Semi has spiked in paranoia? Somberness? An overall slump of sorts, unhelped by the perpetual spells they fall into. Oddly enough, If Chim was forced to pick one word for the whole phenomena, I’d be…observant.

Case in point: Semi abruptly stops to stare at the building where that one cog…Derrickman? stays. Resistance ranger Rain had blocked off the building to everyone since Sellbot fell, citing it as dangerously barricaded with cogs inside’ trying to avoid becoming sick. 

“There’s nobody in there.” Semi groans, cradling their own head. “I don’t hear any of the machines inside.”

A few eyes glance at Semi, unsure. P.J. frowns lightly. “How do you know that? They could be laying low or something.” The blue dog sighs, brushing her recently cleaned star shirt. “Are you alright? Maybe we should take a break. It’s clear we all aren’t doing so hot…”

Noticing Semi’s gaze, Chim steps up. The monkey closes his eyes, pressing a large ear to the door. Faint sounds of an air conditioner circulating greet him like ocean waves in a shell. “Do ya think Silly Billy’s bein’ held here…?” A slow step back towards the street. “ I’m not hearing a thing neither. If anyone’s in there, they’re all on the upper floor.”

Semi frowns. “Everyone in there’s long gone. Empty. I just said that!” Nobody attempts to rebuttal them.

“Man…The only place left for cogs then is Boardbot HQ, huh?” Pinky rubs her chin contemplatively. “That place will be a nightmare to take back if all of those brutes are hiding out there…”

“You can’t take over a place that doesn’t exist yet.” Semi shakes their head slowly, stepping away from the building entrance. A few strange looks are passed their way.

“Yeah…uh…I dunno what that’s supposed to mean, but it'd be a fruitless task anyhow…” Chim yawns. He rubs the back of his head, catching his hat as it falls off his head. “N-not to be rude to ya, Semi! I mean…it’s just…”

“Just what?”

Emboldened, Pinky hijacks the green monkey’s statement, speaking sternly. “ Frankly , you’ve been acting untoony , and I think it’s because of that…place. I-I don’t like it!” She crosses her arms, impatiently tapping her heels against the cobbled road. “You and all those other toons need to stop that! Come back to regular old Toontown!”

Chim frowns. The tension grows tenfold in an instant. “Now hold on there, that’s not what I–”

“Do you really think that…?” The orange cat speaks in a moment of vulnerability. At least, what seems like it. “All of you?” I could care less what you think. The statement blares in the center of Semi’s mind as they choose their words. “There’s nothing wrong with the abandoned playground! There were toons going in there before I spread the word.”

“All I’m saying is, Flippy must have blocked that place off for a reason!” The small mouse taps her foot, mildly irritated. “I get it, Toontown’s in a rough spot right now, but good things are happening! We’re a hair away from defeating the cogs! Why escape to some creepy playground?”

“Insult, insult, insult. You’re calling me untoony, yet you’re taking every opportunity to passively insult the stuff I do and the places I go! Why don’t you buzz off already!” Semi lashes out, their full attention on Pinky now. “Or are you too busy admiring the excess of cake batter around here? Maybe you’re fond of it since it’s just as pink and superficial as YOU!”

“W-What??? This! This right here is exactly what I’m talking about!” Pinky becomes heated, stomping in anger. “You don’t act like this! Since we wanna get personal, I’m not going to rush to take advice from you! You’re not even at 40 laff yet! I seriously don’t get it either. There’s no cogs here! How else could such a drastic change happen to you!”

“Pinky…calm yourself…” P.J. nervously whines as she brushes back long, floppy ears. “Semi, ever since you found that place, you’ve been pretty–”

“You’re taking HER side now? Why am I not surprised. Make new friends Semi! All of you just want to get rid of me! Why are you being so mean to me, huh? Just because things seem so different now, compared to before? Because I’m different? Do you think I’m so helpless and stupid to where I need to have my perception of things dictated by you? ”

“I’m not being mean Semi! I say this with all of the concern in the world. It might seem mean, but I’m being completely honest with you!” Pinky trips towards the cat, an expression of anguish. “I’m saying how I feel about this. Leave your dirty laundry with P.j. out of this. I just don’t want you getting hurt!”

“You know what I think?” Semi stalks up to Pinky stiffly in return. An ice cold gesture. “I think you’re desperate . Controlling and desperate. You want me to be your dumb little lacky, following you and everyone here mindlessly. You want attention. ” Semi straightens up, looking down on the princess themed mouse. “The difference between you and me is I don’t take it out on other people. I can accept I’m an afterthought.”

Utterly floored and eyes wide, Pinky steps back. What could she possibly even say to THAT? Chim and PJ glance at each other tensely. Whatever’s up with Semi runs deeper than expected.

“I think I've come to a realization. I don’t need any of you anymore.” The dully colored orange cat kills the hanging silence. “Why am I even here? I come here, to help you find this guy toon barely even know, when I could be improving the literal new playground I’ve just found. One that isn’t messed up because of the cogs! So. Yeah. You all are the worst toons in Toontown.” 

“Semi, wait!!” PJ howls, running up to Semi as the orange prepares to teleport away. “Please wait, please? For me?”

The cat toon’s face shifts to mild remorse as they face P.J. MacRoni. “I…not this time P.J. Please don’t talk to me.” One, final firm request, and the placement of a portable hole. The cat toon’s gone within a blink.

The wide gap of inaction is broken by Pinky. Dumbfounded, the mouse stiffly turns back towards Daffodil Gardens. “I’m going home.” Chim and P.J. don’t stop her.

Eventually P.J. whispers, as if speaking any louder would shatter Chim like glass. “Hey…I think imma head back to my place too. I um…I need to think about this a lot.” 

Chim follows suit. The toon hops from Wacky Way out into his estate, pushing down the sickening pool of anxiety resting low in his gut. A shaky Sigh. He takes off his cowboy hat, ready to return to the simple covers of rest. He pauses at the door, turning as something beckons him just within his field of view. Hm? When…did I get mail?

Strolling, Chim pushes the flag on the side down, opening up the mailbox.

“Ah! The sheriff shirt I—“ A lump forms in the back of Chim’s throat when he reaches inside, feeling the object. That’s not a t-shirt. That’s not clothing, or furniture…

Without looking inside…the toon slowly pulls it out of his mailbox. His leeriness is justified. Heart pounding a million miles a second out of unadulterated terror.

A single, bloody antler.

Chapter Text

Home again. P.J. runs inside, feeling a whirlwind of emotion. First the kitchen. A hand haphazardly slides, bumps and grabs snacks in the pantry, then a pitcher of cold brew rose tea. The floppy eared canine meticulously opens the door to her room while balancing the items. A foot pushes the door shut, arms place the platter on the nightstand. Just gonna camp out here for a bit. Maybe pretend the outside world doesn’t exist. That’s had quite enough of it for today.

In a sick sense of hope, she saunters over grabbing her phone’s reciever. It’s hard to respect Semi’s wishes with the cat making such an abrupt departure. As long as she can confirm they’re okay, or won’t do anything rash. It should be okay—they won’t be too mad…hopefully. Punching in numbers, then waiting—a dial tone…another. “Please, please pick up…” 

Nothing. She slams the receiver back on it’s handle. How unbelievably stupid of her. Biting into a lemon would be a good comparison to the amount of sourness P.J. Feels as she resigns herself to her bed. A muffled groan, her face against the pillow. The tall toon lays down in and out of naps, reaching to bite into the occasional egg sandwich or chugging tea. Best to sort her thoughts now.

She sits up. She could head to The Construction Zone. No doubt the cat toon would be there. No no. P.J. Lays back down. Before that, she should touch base with Chim. P.J.’s heart sinks as she lifts up once more. She’d left him hanging in a sense. Hopefully he'll forgive her… Perhaps if she gains a second wind, she can get back out there and help him find this Silly Billy fellow once and for all.

Turning to her side, P.J. Sighs, bleary looking out into the trees just outside of her estate. Shifting the blanket around her, then brushing a floppy ear away. Something’s moving outside. Caught off guard, P.J.  Quickly sits up, squinting out her window.

Two lone figures stalk closer to her home, hopping over the fence and into the large estate yard. Walt.it can’t be. P.J.’s jaw drops at the sight, rubbing her eyes. Memories of tall, intimidating machines and pristine desaturated suits fill the her mind. What she thinks certainly isn’t what she’s seeing. Hunched over and dirty, a Mover and Shaker along with a Backstabber quickly move ahead, quicker than any time she’d seen a cog move. The pair look antsy to say the least, looking around the perimeter before running off to the side. Wait. The side of HER home!

P.J. Lifts up, only to slip into a stumble. Getting up as she moves, she quickly grabs her previously resting gag pouch, swinging the room door open. What the heck is this? How did those things find the Central estates? Better yet, what the heck are they up to?

Slipping out the front door, her heart drops hearing the sounds of clanging, banging and things being pushed over. Arming herself with a seltzer bottle, P.J. Warily rounds the corner. Creased metal. Her storage shed had been broken into. Two pairs of eyes quickly whip to her direction. “Stop that!”

Her shed door is a mess, clearly forced upward by one of them. Outside, the Mover and Shaker stands, holding a small barrel of Kart oil. Six feet or so away, the Backstabber stands inside,  cradling another oil drum. Walt have mercy….what the scallop is this? 

”W-What in Walt’s name…?” the toon nearly drops her seltzer as the Mover Shaker makes a run for it, abandoning his companion for kart oil. Simultaneously, P.J. Squeals, ducking under an attack from the Backstabber. Dropping to the ground. Beside her, an audible clink from the seltzer bottle A frantic sidewalk search. P.J. Quickly grabs ahold of the seltzer bottle and pulls on the nozzle, dousing the Backstabber. Taking advantage of the Lawbot recoiling, another opportunity to retaliate is taken with a broken radio. Blinding flashes of sparks ensue as the cog spasms with a yell. A yell?

”Halt Halt!!! Just a moment of your time Miss toon!” P.J. Turns her head in confusion as the Mover and Shaker runs to the action. Tin crackles slightly as she grips the fruit pie harder, subconsciously aiming…

”ANM! Are you malfunctioning or do you have a scrap wish?!” The Backstabber snaps, a vein of anguish in his tone. “Take the oil and get the hell out of here! I CAN DEAL WITH TOON!”

Sliding between his companion and the cartoon, ANM leans down eye level to the toon. “Miss Toon, let us come to an arrangement! One that leans in your favor considerably!  We have the opportunity to shake up the status quo visa vi a ceasefire. The current circumstances of Cog Nation has unfortunately led to the need for—“

”What are you yapping about? Can you speak normally?” P.J. Squints in mild disgust from the borderline schmoozing.

”Riiight~the point. We will not attack you if you do not attack us.”

”How should I believe that? That’s all you cogs do! Attack and take and whatever gimmick your suit tells you to do!” The tall canine snaps,

Incredulous, the Mover Shaker’s closed eye grin twitches for a brief second. “It would certainly behoove you.” A Sellbot cracking like that? Even for a brief moment? What a rarity.

A distrustful hum. P.J. Lowers her pie slightly, raising an eyebrow. They’re not wrong. The Backstabber is barely holding on, swaying from the electric shock as he shakes the water off of him. “I guess you’re right. How on earth did a pair of cogs end up at the estates? It’s a miracle you both haven’t dropped already.”

The Backstabber gives his companion a look. Said look is ignored, as the Sellbot continues to speak. “We are not sure ourselves. We wandered until we ended up here. We are also in dire need of oil…as you may have gathered.”

”Yeah, ‘thanks’ for breaking into my shed.” The dog grumbles, putting down the fruit pie. “Fine. I accept your deal….I guess.”

A sigh of relief. Focusing on his companion’s wellbeing, P.J. Crosses her arms. Better question them now than later. “What are your names? Do you two still have business cards?”

”I wish. ANM-4877. I never expected to give a toon my serial number before.”

”Don’t you have a regular name?”

”An informal name? No. I’m not nearly as high ranked for one. I suppose I’d be nice to have on paper.”

”What about him?” A gesture towards the scowling Lawbot, who winces from having apart of his arm repaired. He fails to speak, brushing P.J. off.

”This is my…companion. ROU-6689.” ANM gives an apologetic look to the glaring Backstabber. “Now it’s only appropriate that you give us your designation, toon.”

”Me? I’m P.J. MacRoni. Just call me P.J. Though. It’s no big deal.” Only it is. Cogs in estates can only be a bad thing. The dog toon anxiously looks around. If one of the neighbors were to step outside, or arrive… “Hey, ANM…do you wanna uh come inside my place? Like, right about now!”   she swiftly makes her way to her front door, swinging it open.

”We did not agree to enter your little… shack. ” ROU interjects. Now its his turn to raise an eyebrow towards the toon. “Deal or not, it would be highly unprofessional.”

”Y-yeah well, if you two wanna survive, then you’re coming inside. If one of my neighbors sees you two, it’ll cause an uproar—” Urging them quickly, P.J. Mentally cringes. Just gonna let two cogs in the house…like normal. If only her cousin were here. She often let that one cog into her house. Aside from that moral quandary; the smell . After that Lawbot was fried, P.J.’s sensitive nose immediately caught onto the smell the burnt, continuously goopy cake batter emits. He walks by, and she holds back gagging. If she had to describe it…

Memories of being a kid. She’d eaten too much cotton candy as a dare, and the sickly sweet aftertaste remained on her hands and fingertips. Later the same day, she’d been offered an ice cream, and stuffed herself with it despite the candy smell…

Inside, P.J. Swiftly shuts the door. Rushing to window blinds, they briefly snap shut. She steps away from the pair.  “Hah…okay. W-welcome to my house. Rule one. Don’t destroy anything. Rule two. Ask me before touching anything. And rule three…”

Catching their attention, P.J. Stomps, pointing a finger to the guest bathroom. “Take your suits off and get that pink goop off of yourselves!!! You both STINK!”

————————

No word from my employer. Maybe he’s gone. Oh that’d be the day.

Stumbling down Anchor Avenue, Silly Billy rubs at the spot where his right antler used to be. With each step, a sickening squelch erupts from his clothes, the sound of it not unlike velcro. It stubbornly clings to his body. Sick by the time he arrives in Barnicle Boatyard, he furiously tries to rub off the cake batter with the seawater. At least a fraction of it is off. The black deer barely registers stumbling into the Toon HQ afterward, leaving a soaking trail behind himself.

Startled, Ranger River yelps at the roughed up appearance of Silly Billy bursting into the HQ. Dover, Wade and Misty are gone, searching Boatyard for a decently sized string of missing toons. One quick look at the board. This guy’s one of em. The deer not only appeared from seemingly nowhere, but he looked badly roughed up. A stream of red trickles down the side of his face as he collapses onto wooden floors. Rushing over, the aqua mouse looks over the toon. “I need someone with pixie dust, stat!”

In and out of consciousness. Blurry eyesight. A hazy, green rabbit standing statuesque and just barely out of eyesight. Silly Billy groans as a voice prys its way into his head. Well now. They are coming to me, right where I want them. You are not welcome into my paradise. Goodbye.

As Silly Billy hallucinates, River inspects the black deer’s head. Fake blood. “You’re a multi toon! Hah…I can barely tell you guys apart from regular toons…” Turning to the side, another call. “Nevermind about that pixie dust! Bessie! Bring that repair kit!”

The corner of the HQ. Bessie wakes up, having fallen asleep next to Professor Prepostura and this cog…The Rainmaker. She’d found it laying prone, leaking the usual pink slop that causes cogs to drop blank and gone. Stranger than the dead lawbot, the blue horse next to her shows up from seemingly nowhere, having arrived to the HQ from Drowsy Dreamland. His reasoning? supposedly he’s curious of how manager cogs tick or something—who knows. Shaking the toon next to her awake, she lugs the toolbox over to River and the multi-toon.

” Aaaauh… ” A weak yawn emits from Prepostura as the dark blue horse strolls over. “What’s going on?”

”Professor, can you repair this Multi-toon?”

”Oh…? I suppose I can. I must warn you, my ability is rather amateurish. Anything further complicated than the basics and someone else will have to be called.”

Kneeling down, Professor Prepostura inspects Silly Billy. Moving to the deer’s hand, the horse toon lifts his glove up, sliding the synthetic black fur back to reveal a robotic arm. A tiny, analog output of vitals flash on a small screen embedded into the metal arm. Inspecting them, Prepostura leans back.

“Well…his vitals seem okay. A bit roughed up. I suppose the issue throwing you lot off the most must be this fake, Halloween blood, no?” The horse peels back, wiping off some of it onto a nearby towel. “Have any of you seen the antler? No? I’ll just clean up the hole a bit and plug it up with something in the meantime.”

“Why fake blood? What’s the point?” Bessie comments as she watches the professor surgically slide the fake fur back into place. 

“That’s a good question! According to my research, some multi-toons receive Halloween blood so that cogs don’t suspect them to be robotic! Last thing we’d need is for a cog to figure this out and transfer their mind into one or anything strange like that.” Prepostura babbles on. ”Multi-toons are often produced for toons who require companionship. Giving them more toony aspects protects them from any snooping cogs. It’s not ink, but it’ll do! I’ve Finished.”

Fixing the cork plugging up the hole left by his missing antler, Prepostura hums in approval before slipping back inside Silly Billy’s glove. A button press, and Silly abruptly sits up. “Oh my! Welcome back to the living.”

”A-A phone…”

”What?” An unexpected look forms on Bessie’s face at the sudden request of Silly Billy.

”I need a phone, now. Please.” The deer takes off his flunky stolen glasses for a brief moment, rubbing disturbed violet eyes.

“A-ah! Here! I got you…!” River runs, sliding to a stop as she hands over an old fashion rotary phone. Haphazard motions, and brief scanning over his schtickerbook. Quickly dialing the number inside, the gathered toons wait frozen in place.

”Howdy…This is Chim E. Churri…”

”Chim. It’s Silly Billy.”

”S-Silly Bill—“

”Now’s not the time.” He interrupts quickly. “I’m heading to you right after this call.”

”Wh- Really? Naw that’s amazin’! I’ve been lookin for ya for days! Is everything—“

”Listen! Your friend? That orange cat? They’re in danger . Something’s luring them to Construction Zone. This isn’t just your mundane greening! You understand me?” A noise of unexpectedness, followed by stunned silence. Silly Billy slowly gets up, ignoring the worried noises from the toons surrounding him. “I’m taking that as a yes. I’ll be where you are momentarily. Goodbye.”

The phone clangs back onto the receiver. Fishing out his broken mp3 player, the deer slips them over his ears, along with his glasses. A portable hole hits the ground before he turns to the gathered HQ toons.

”You three! No matter whatever the hell happens, do NOT let any toons into that ‘new’ Playground.” Silly Billy firmly speaks, hopping into the hole without so much as a thank you . Gone to wherever that Chim fella is, just like that.

“H-he said an untoony word…” Stuttery noises come from River. “That guy doesn’t even have the clearance to keep people out…”

”That he did. Although, I do believe we have more pressing matters…” Professor Prepostura brushes himself off, standing up. “Such an urgent response from a fellow that was out cold mere minutes ago. I should tell Dimm about this!”

”Y-yeah. I’m gonna give Toontown Central’s HQ and uh…Mayor Flippy a heads up!” Following along, the aqua mouse stumbles over to the desk, beginning the calling process. “Gotta give Wade, Misty and Dover a call too, darn!!”

“Sellbot, Lawbot, Cashbot, Bossbot HQs…” Bessie mutters, more irritated than anything. “We manage to take back all this stolen land, and of course during it a bigger problem shows up outta nowhere…”

She shakes her head, glancing at the body of the Rainmaker. ”It’s not them…What on earth could be causing all this?”

Chapter Text

They’re right…I don’t feel so good. The headaches were nothing at first, and yet…

Pushing down their inner thoughts, Semi stumbles out of the black hole, back into the Construction Zone. Other toons stroll around here and there, with most interested in the strange sites of the ‘new’ playground. Others rest in the plaza, generally sticking near the fountain. Though not nearly as populated as other playgrounds, this place is shaping up to be quite the hotspot.

If you’d ask the cat, they couldn’t tell you when the headaches started. A general, disorienting feeling that only multiplied as time went on. Barely noticeable at first, but now glaringly bothersome.

Ever since they tasted that cake batter…

No no. There’s nothing to worry about.

Strolling around the regular playgrounds just feels so wrong now . Looking out into the hilly expanses of the estates and the Toontown sign in Central. Not to mention where the sea meets the horizon in Barnacle Boatyard. It all feels so, so different compared to the colorful expanse prior. A sense of derealization hits them hard. 

If they could find a way to just walk beyond the high fences somehow. As if somehow, getting back there would just lead to a curtain that they could push aside and walk through to—

Stop that.

“Uuuhg…s-stop talking inside my head !!” Semi abruptly shouts out loud, clutching their head so hard fur comes out. “Who even are you! W-Who do you think you are!”

Stumbling, the chubby cat nearly falls into the fountain head first. Not that it matters. They dunk their head inside anyway, yelling into the water before pulling out.

They’re FINE. They’re just NOT FEELING WELL because they were STUPID and TASTED THE CAKE BATTER.

Gloved hands dig into concrete, slowly lifting their head out of the shallow water. I just needed to cool down. That’s all. Especially after that big fight. 

What were you thinking? I need you here. Here with me.

“With you? Who even are you?”

Go to the end of the playground. The end of Construction Zone.

Ignoring the strange looks from other toons, Semi stumbles through the grass, muttering to themself like a mad toon. Ahead, that red balloon lazily floats by. Too bright! They cover their sore eyes. “B-But there’s nothing at the end of that playground. It’s just GREY! THERE’S NOTHING OUT THERE SO LEAVEMEALONE!”

Go. I will be there. You will go.

Uncovered eyes. Semi squints. “I don’t want to go!” The other toons are gone, but another more urgent issue arises as they turn to face behind them.

…Where’s the tunnel? Where's the door hold?

A swift head turn. It’s just back that way, but-

An endless city of steel beams and scaffolding.

This can’t be happening.

Reaching into their pocket, the toon slaps down their portable black hole, and jumps in. Popping out…next to the fountain. Nonono- this isn’t right. This isn’t an official playground! Why can’t they get to Barnacle Boatyard?

Heart pounding, Semi tries again, and again to no avail. They pull out their shtickerbook and phone, beginning multiple streams of calls.

P.J. Can help them! No answer. Chim? Nothing. Pinky…? Radio silence follows. A pit forms in Semi’s stomach. They clutch their shirt tightly. An impulsive, uncomfortable thought rests in their head.

Nobody’s going to help you. Why would they? You pushed your friends away. You better get to walking, because you’re stranded and there’s nothing you can do about it.  Nervous scratching at their arm. Semi feels their laff begin to drop, and lethargy set in. Wandering in denial, Semi searches for the tunnel to leave. Nothing.

Dark, cold, unfinished silence with you and just you alone. Not even the mercy of a tormenter. 

”W-where is everyone? What’s happening to me?”

The voice in their head fails to respond.

Disoriented, the terrified toon takes a step forward, towards the street leading farther down. ”H-hello…? Please. Someone? Anyone…”

The orange cat curls up, beginning to cry, until something in the shining catches their eye. A large twinkle sits atop a large, steep hill at the end of the street. A way out? Heart pounding in anticipation, Semi scrambles up, beginning the trek towards it. Stepping to the base of the hill, Semi looks up with a grimace. Climbing up hills like this is a challenge with short legs. But this quickly becomes the least of their worries, as bizarre objects render into existence around them.

A red balloon floating aimlessly. Its bright appearance is a bad omen.

Semi cautiously treks onward. The light is dazzling ahead. Large and overwhelming, the sight forces them to squint. I’m here.

“You again! You’re not being toony at all!” An accusational finger points at the green rabbit, who stands ahead against the hazy horizon. “Leaving me all alone in this place! Talking in my head, making me know strange things… You need to take me back to Anchor Avenue!” Semi demands, to no fanfare from the ethereal toon. This is all so ridiculous.

“Um…sorry if that was mean. This is just all so-“

An interruption. I’ve been using many to find what I want, but you are the closest. You can get what I so desperately want.

“What? What is it you want so badly that you’d ruin Toontown?” 

The rabbit stays silent.

“Come on, one of you tell me something. Please? Yes? No?” Awkwardly, Semi does the signs for ‘yes’ and ‘no’ with gloved hands.

“Altis.”

Semi’s eyes turn to saucers. After all this time and headache, the rabbit finally speaks. A flat, quiet voice. No use being loud in a silent place. 

Warily looking towards the rabbit, Semi steps to the summit. It hurts when they look at them. It hurts so badly, yet they persist. The orange feline suddenly feels lightheaded. Increasingly not all there, the longer they stare at them. Semi clutches their head. “You’re being erased. You…you’re fading away.”

Pink pink pink. Sparkling pink begins to take over Semi’s eyesight as they cry out, and look away.

“Help me get home, please.” The green rabbit speaks up, watching as the other toon is consumed. Semi’s panic falls on deaf ears. It eventually stops.

Slowly, they stand up. There’s nothing they can do now. Their head turns towards the false sky, before looking down at IT, in their hand, stuck to them. “All of this? You brought me here to help you?”

The rabbit slowly nods.

“You…you can’t. Your home’s corrupted...it’s nearly gone. You’re already aware of it too, so why persist…? You can find a new home in Toontown!”

“You will take me there, whether you want to or not .”

“You’re not even listening to me. Just so you know, my friends will find me–and when they do, you’ll be sorry…”

“Hm.” The rabbit turns away. “Let’s test that theory.”

————————

An impressive jump out of the portable hole leads Silly Billy SparkleSparkle to a yard he barely recognizes. Good thing the two faces sitting standing out front are.

”Silly Billy!” Chunky but strong arms wrap the deer into a tight and mildly uncomfortable hug. Touching like that? Acting a bit too chummy… A tap on the side is all it takes for him to be released.

”A-ah… Sorry bout that partner…” Chim sheepishly adjusts his cowboy hat, stepping back while his blue dog friend steps closer to the pair.

”W-What on earth happened to your antler?!” Shocked, P.J. shakily gestures to the cork in place of it.

”It came out. I’m fine.” Glancing up rather blankly, Silly Billy pokes the cork sticking out of his head. “You wouldn’t have happened to bring it with you Chim?”

”I-I do got it! I–er didn’t know what to do with it so I brought it along…” Reaching into his pocket, the green monkey pulls out the severed antler.

Of course, when the deer toon pops the cork out in a rather undignified manner, a brief flash of Silly Billy’s technological innards shocks P.J. ”You’re a multi-toon! Wow! I only really see you guys on the portraits of saved toon buildings!” Shimmying, P.J. Responds with a bit of excitement.

”Yeah. Shocking to you I bet. Then again, we only met one time.”

”Multi-toon or not, I don’t really care bout those things. You just seem like an interestin’ fella! I suppose that’s why I gravitate towards ya so much…” Chim smiles lightly, peering at Silly Billy as the deer seamlessly pops his antler back into his head, giving it a twist for good measure.

”More importantly, Semi, right? They’re in danger. We need to get to Construction Zone right away. I’m fairly certain whatever is causing all this…’cake batter’ is coming from that place.” A light glance to the side. Mentioning the voice he hears might be a poor choice right now. 

Speaking of voices. Silly Billy raises an eyebrow at the sound of approaching voices. Especially the one that seems oddly familiar. “Who’s house is this? Did you two gather more of your friends?”

”You hearin’ that too? I haven’t called Pinky yet, though I ain’t sure how she’s fairing from er…earlier.” Rubbing his neck uncomfortably, Chim looks up from his schtickerbook, glancing between the other toons and P.J.’s house. The shaking of the estate doorknob. Of course, the blue dog feels utter horror as a grinning metal face peeks out of her door.

”Oh my Walt.” P.J. Covers her mortified expression.  Looking to make sure her neighbors haven’t noticed.

”Is that a-a…” Chim stutters, backing away.

”What the hell is a cog doing in your house? Get out here scrap metal . I can see your massive forehead reflecting the sun.” Silly Billy snaps harshly, arming himself with a large magnet. Before the deer is able to aim, P.J. hastily pushes the pair of toons inside her house. The door is slammed just as rapidly. Both parties sans P.J. slowly lift up. She ignores the strange and somewhat dirty looks. Everything’s still kept quiet…

“A-Apologies! Although I must insist that you did say you would have no visitors…” The first to stand up, ANM stiffly brushes his suit clean, addressing P.J. As he warily stares at the three toons.

“You’re harboring these things? I thought you had some self respec—“ Chiding, Silly Billy freezes mid sentence, his eyes landing squarely onto the Backstabber. That thing. The familiar voice. He begins to simmer. It’s still here.

Quick to defend herself, P.J. Clutches her head. “I’m not harboring them! I just— I don’t know! I felt bad for em! They aren’t gonna do anything, we made a—”

No time to listen. The nasty bug of revenge bites Silly Billy viciously. First, slow and methodical as he steps off to the side, inching away from the cluster of toons. It never saw it coming.

An alternative method to using his trap rake of course. 

One strong swing, and Silly Billy feels euphoria at the resonant metal clang. The metallic side of the rake meets ROU’s head. Now do it again, and harder this time . Metal prongs collide against the Lawbot three times. Lure be damned. 

A scream of horror comes from the Mover and Shaker. A scream? Sudden disorientation hits Silly Billy as he’s shoved back harshly by the Sellbot. What a beautiful view of oil droplets. Protecting ROU’s body, oil leaks onto ANM’s suit as his companion slowly sits up. It’s a nasty gash, one that causes a brief spark. Shakily standing up. Stumbling back towards the living room.

“That…” A shaky, manic voice escapes Silly Billy. “That’s for torturing me. I’d dismantle you right here and now if we weren’t pressed for time.” One step, then a second. The deer toon looks ahead, ignoring his frankly disturbed companions. “You and your ‘friend’. How the hell did you heaps find the estates?”

“A-augh…I—I not s-sur– know. I—“ ROU desperately clutches the side of his head, barely putting together a sentence. 

“Spit it out you broken machine!” A fiery, breakneck tone. 

“Chim! Control your friend now!” P.J. Growls. Green arms wrap around Silly Billy in a split second into a hug, restraining his increasingly aggressive friend.

“ D-Damn toon… I…I just wandered. I c-cannot explain articulate express it but, my processes insisted I head towards this direction? I-It was strange odd unusual, b-but that’s all y-your getting out of—“

“Stop talking! You are significantly damaged!” ANM interrupts, chiding ROU. “Let’s get out of here.”

Another irksome glance, mostly towards the deer toon. The Sellbot methodically picks up the damaged, malfunctioning scrap metal of a cog into a nearby room, closing the door behind him. Silly Billy only feels slightly bad for P.J., who stares through him with underlying fury. She’s still coming with them, so it’s no fur off his skin.

It’s a linear process from there. Silently teleporting to Barnacle Boatyard via black hole, then silently ambling down foggy Anchor Avenue.

Silly Billy squints mid run. His ear flicks. “The voice in my head is getting louder…” an annoyed murmur that Chim unfortunately manages to catch.

“The what? ” An astounded look from the green monkey. “Now where in tarnation did that come from?”

“You can’t hear it, huh? The voice of that thing trying to use Semi.”

“Uhhh…not the strangest that’s happened..! So is it some sort of ghost? Like the ones round’ Halloween?”

“No? I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”

Bitterly, P.J. Skids to a stop, not bothering to turn and acknowledge her companions. “We’re here.”

The tunnel looms ahead, dark. Fur from all three toons prickle, not too dissimilar to standing a little too close to a tesla coil gag. 

Lip biting. Silly Billy grips the bottom of his shirt. He mentally notes P.J. Tugging at her ears. Yet despite all that, Chim stands ahead determined despite the circumstances. “How. How are you so confident about this?”

“I ain’t that confident, but I ain’t gonna leave my friend in danger.”

“Even if this might be a lost cause?”

“Course so. I searched for you all that time, yeah?”

“Mm.” Silly Billy pushes his glasses up. “You did. I’ve never had someone do that for me. Someone who cared that much. I’m…grateful.”

A step forward. Chim squints into the abyssal darkness. His left hand takes Silly Billy’s. His right, P.J.. Moving forward, they stick together.

No matter what happens, it’s all to save his friend.

————————

So, when did I get back to Toontown Central? 

A creeping thought aligns Chim’s thoughts and body when they finally arrive. Arrive? It’s just him. Away from that awful void, Chim can finally relax. What happened?

The sky is a lovely shade of grey. Toons stand around, staring off with bright smiles in the silent playground. The gazebo is gone. All that’s left is its platform. A beautiful lake of sparkling pink cake batter shimmers with toons motionlessly floating upon it. A giant tv screen in the sky floats silently, the screen turned off. Tv screen? It vanishes the moment Chim thinks about it too hard. Stepping out of the tunnel and onto the grass, a few stiff faces turn to face him. What did I miss? The toon shakes his head as a familiar face saunters closer. 

“Pinky? Howdy! I thought you were at Daffodil.” The stiffness of his disguise forces the green monkey to look down to properly talk.  “When did ya arrive back in central?”

“Chim? Is that you? You look pretty silly in that suit! Why are you wearing that?” The light pink, tiara wearing mouse laughs. A rigid, welcoming smile follows. Just like routine.

“Well now… I think I just got here from Sellbot HQ.” He scratches his head. That was right, wasn’t it? He tries to think back, but a stinging pain in his head halts him. “I mean, it’s why I’m wearin this thing, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Really? Well, do you know the toontastic news already?”

“News? What news?”

“You don’t know?” With a grin, the mouse toon does a twirl. “Me and Semi are friends again!”

“Wh-When?! What??”

“Come on now...Just because you act like a cowboy doesn’t mean you should be this behind the loop.” Pinky rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Anyway, I just got here too. Funny story actually. See, I was fishing on Daisy Drive with some friends and I ran into a problem! I started to feel so sick with some sort of pressure in my lungs. I held onto my throat, trying my hardest to breathe, but it just felt like I was sinking deeper, my windpipes full of liquid! It became crazier after that! Semi had arrived on the scene, standing with my other friends. They watched and stared deeply into me, and no matter how much I screamed and begged for mercy, no words came out of my mouth. I accepted that my lungs felt like they were going to be crushed from the extreme pressure put onto them.”

“T-that’s pretty fitting for someone as such a bad friend as you.” The monkey frowns. Did he say that?  The interruption causes the pair to only get more looks.

Chim’s expression slowly turns more perturbed as Pinky continues. “So like I was saying, I’d never felt so much agony before that singular moment, and now I know that if I’m ever mean to Semi again, it’ll happen tenfold. My punishment was harsh, but I know better now.” Silently watching, Pinky skips away. He shouldn’t associate with toons like her. She calls out, speaking one last time. “See ya later Chim! Don’t forget to take off that suit! you’ll get weird looks!” In his peripheral, more faces turn towards his direction.

The static, serene silence of the playground. Chim falters, trying to remember exactly what he’s doing here. Curious, he wanders to Toon Hall. Doors open to reveal a cutout of a massive machine? Nevermind that. The room’s beginning to flood anyway. A heavy step back as Chim closes the door. The green monkey stomps off elsewhere. Speaking of, every single creaking and groaning step of his Glad Hander cog suit gains more unnecessary eyes onto Chim, who warily eyes them back in defense. An odd thing to do. It’s not like cog suits are a new concept.

Sighing, Chim reaches up. Enough of this …He’ll just take it off. Tugging at the arm of the cog suit, it doesn’t budge. So, the green monkey pulls harder…

A sharp , sickening jolt of pain shoots up Chim’s arm as he pries at the suit on his body. The metal creaks loudly. He trembles, nearly falling to his knees as he lets out a yowl in response. 

He reaches again to try and take the suit off again, but hesitates as a thought materializes. Why is he trying to peel off his body?   Chim pulls his hand back and away from his suit.

“I can’t believe you failed something as simple as that.” Silly Billy’s voice chimes out behind Chim. He’s frowning, and wearing a telemarketer suit. “Seeing you fail like this isn’t even entertaining.”

The green toon steps closer. “Weren’t we speakin’ bout something important before?”

“I don’t want to talk to you. I figured it out, you know. Multi-toon . How can you be so happy knowing you’re ultimately controlled by another toon?”

Ignoring him, Chim stumbles forward in a blissful daze. Seeing? Wasn’t he looking for something?

“Everything about you, down to the stupid little accent you make. It makes me sick. You’re so fake. You’re a liar too. Why didn’t you tell me? You make me sick.” Hurtful berating escapes the deer’s mouth, wiping away tears as he continues.

“I thought we were friends…” Chim frowns, sniffing lightly.

“We are friends, and as your friend I’m telling you the harsh truth. I am not going to continue to live a lie. To ignorantly and willingly ‘live’ as my employer’s pawn, like you do. Sometimes I can’t stand you, because you’re just like me.”

Chim takes a step back. Feeling debilitated, he clutches at the cog suit, feeling his heartbeat. Silly Billy is so angry…maybe leaving will help cool his head. Stepping up to the Gag Shop, he places a metallic hand against the door to step inside. Clerk Clara and Clark must have gone on vacation. Their absence aside, endless shelves of gags line the store, fading into the abyss. A taser as a zap gag? Some of these gags are unrecognizable, yet the green monkey knows how they work. A cog doesn’t use gags, silly.

Slow, wobbly bring him next to the Wacky Way entrance. The tunnel is dark. Impossible to see inside, the echoing void stares back at him. A tingly feeling runs back the green monkey’s spine as he feels he’s being monitored. 

The tunnel is there to hurt him. It’s fake and deceitful, and if he goes in there he will feel pain. Squinting into the abyss, a figure slowly approaches. P.J. steps out, materializing.

Chim doesn’t bother to ask. “Nice seeing ya. How’s life?”

“Oh! Well you know, not much.” The dog toon casually shrugs. "You already know I've been letting two cogs stay at my place.”

Chim groans. Like banging against the metal doors of the headquarters, his head throbs. His initial reaction is not what comes out of his mouth. “A-augh….”

“I’m thrilled you asked! I’ve been letting them stay for a while now, and they’ve proven to be nice guests.”

“A cog bein a nice guest? That’s possible?”

“That’s what I thought too. They really are though! Recently, the one in the purple suit has become sick. I gave him some of the water since he was so unclean, but now he just sits slumped in the corner, leaking on my hardwood. His silence is certainly an improvement! I mean, I’d say he did get too comfortable staying with me. The blue suit one with him became so erratic after the fact. It’s a nuisance, but pretty entertaining.”

“Hah, I bet it is.” Chim replies languidly. A dazed lull. Towards the Wacky Way entrance. The punishing tunnel will not stop staring at you because just like you, it stares into other people’s business.

“I’m getting a bit tired of it now. All the other one does now is endlessly cry and sob and throw fits—all because everyone around him dies and it's his fault. I honestly don’t know why he bothers. Those things shouldn’t be able to cry tears, yet somehow they force themselves to. I should really kick him out, but I let him stay because I like the ugly little sobs he makes. Anyways, I’m going to wait until he inevitably dies like his friend, then I'll go back home.”

Chim fails to reply. His mind is a funhouse mirror. Fake blood seeps down his nose without him noticing. Not that it matters. P.J. is leaving anyway.

One curious step towards the tunnel. Chim nearly breaks down as Toontown Central’s grey skies suddenly flicker and turn black. Feeling a broiling force from above, he cowers. Is the sky angry at him too? Before the toon looks up, another makes themself known.

“What are you doing here?” 

Quickly turning, the green monkey gasps. “Semi? Boy am I glad to see you! Is it night—“

“You need to leave.” The chubby cat stares through him, tone unwavering. “You are ruining everything.”

“Did I? I ain’t mean to... I’m sorry.”

“You don’t even know who you’re talking to. I came here to trick you, but you’re too far gone already. You’re stumbling around in my home, blind.” The visage of Semi flickers, a green ear taking the place of an orange one briefly.

“Why…why are ya being so vile to me?”

“The fact of the matter is,” ‘Semi’ sighs, their expression becoming increasingly more hostile. “I am going to bring back my home, by any means necessary. I don’t want to do anything to you or your insignificant gang , but if you get in my way—”

A sudden rush causes Chim to crumple, gagging as he tries to breathe, and fails. A rush of pink escapes from him as he throws up that viscous goop.

“Get out of my paradise, Chim.”