Chapter Text
CHECKLIST
Patch up Cinnabun and Koda- Get Dexter to sell a Fluffkit (or a Mega Kit)
- Reach Zone 35
- Go back to the Factory
¼ of the checklist fulfilled…
Current Zone…Zone 33.
This particular run Thim was on…hadn’t been the best.
Sure, being one of the newer plushies here, he probably hadn’t seen the worst…
But this run was the worst one he had been on yet.
A lot of rejects, the train kept breaking down, bad wheel spins, machines being in dangerous places…you name it.
Worst of all, everyone kept getting hurt in correlation to all of these bad events - every two floors or so, someone would take a considerable amount of damage and he’d have to heal those plushies over and over again.
He didn’t mind it…heck, it was reasonable and he loved his job.
But he’s a plushie too. And plushies…get hurt.
Thim slouched onto one of the chairs on the train, trying to regain his breath after a tornado of a last zone…that darn machine had to be near those office cubicles.
So…status.
Slightly laboured breathing, running out of thread to patch up the plushies…and Thim himself was in a…questionable condition.
Yet nobody seemed to notice.
You should really get that checked out, buddy.
I’m fine. There’s two more zones after this and it’ll all be over. Someone will get hurt, and I need to save this last remaining thread for the others.
Gosh darn it, why am I so tired…
You’re low on energy, you have 17 health left, and you refuse to tell anyone, DIMWIT.
…
No…it’s just a bad day today. Now get out of here before I need to patch you up myself.
Then those thoughts seemed to…dissapear from his memory.
He got up and stood still and firm while grabbing onto his needle…hoping not to tumble over and expose his wounds.
The focus on his stance blurred his hearing to the closure of DexTec’s doors.
And that causes someone to notice his condition.
“Woah, you look rough.” A familiar buzz echoed through the train.
“You good?”
Thim didn’t respond.
“Ahem. THIM?”
That last call of his name was enough for him to look up.
“Hm?” He mumbled, before going silent to process the question.
“...Yes, I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes Queenie, I’m okay.”
“If you WERE okay, would you be shaking right now-”
“Queenie, please stop talking.”
…
“Were you taught to talk to your queen like that?”
“Did Dexter sell anything useful?”
Queenie’s face drooped and turned into something scornful.
The name “Dexter” already made her sick to the sting.
“Take a wild guess. That guy’s barely been useful, what makes you think that...hey wait a minute, you didn’t answer my question-”
“I don’t have the time to engage further, but rest assured, I wasn’t taught to talk that way.”
“...Okay then. If ya say so.”
“Don’t worry about it, beacon.”
Crackle
Buzzzz….
“This is conductor Dexter at DexTec - we’ll be arriving at our next zone shortly. Please try not to jump out of the train like the others before you had attempted and proceed into the following zone with caution.
Estimated time: 15 seconds”
Ding.
“Well that's the unfortunate call.” Queenie scoffed. “See you throughout then, Thim.”
“Come on, Queenie!” Buddy perked up. “Don’t be so grouchy now; we got this!”
-
How she said my name seemed harsh.
Is it perhaps because of the aforementioned Dexter?
…
Or is she starting to catch on?