To them, there was no era before Pappy. It had been like this for as long as they could remember. Wake up, eat, work 'til they were sore and stiff, eat, sleep, repeat. The day shift began promptly at 6AM and ended at 10PM. There were three job functions. Hauling the bags of flour, churning the tapioca, and stoking the fire. Churning the tapioca and stoking the fire was dangerous, even deadly-in itself, but 'working the floor'-as in hauling the bags of flour, was not hazardous and those who worked the floor wore a ball-and-chain. The exceptions were if their spirits were so broken that they needed no extra deterrent from fleeing.
The entry age to work in the factory was 5 years old. Everyone started on the floor, and those who were deemed to be competent enough were then transferred to the giant tapioca bikes to churn the gigantic vats of mushy, thick tapioca, or the coal piles. The coal piles was considered to be the best job, but that wasn't saying much, and none of the tapioca-churning kids had any energy left to brag about their slightly less bad lot to their lesser-ranked fellow workers.
The more cynical kids-or rather, the kids whose minds hadn't already turned into figurative mush from the mind-numbing labor, were aware of their situation-that they were essentially slaves to the Evil King of the World. This included the seven-year old kid in the large black glasses and blue suspenders. He dragged the heavy sack of flour across the floor, past the large windows offering an equally bleak view of the outside, of the tall clock that glowed an evil green. The only thing that changed from day-to day were the kids in front of him and behind him, and his clothes that got more frayed the longer he stayed here, and his ankles got more sore the longer the ball-and-chain stayed on.
But there was some respite. At 10PM, at the end of the day shift, they were left to their own devices. If the kids knew what was good for them, they would take that precious time to sleep in preparation for the next day. But sometimes the little kid with black glasses skipped sleep to creep outside. Not that he was trying to run away, no, not at all, he'd never do that. But none of the other kids had the strength left to complain. His older brother Monty, well he complained all the time..he'd always gripe that "it's not fair", and one day he'd "bust out of this dump", and he'd sabotage work-finding ways to cut through the bags of flour and toss them everywhere, making Pappy sore and hit him with his lightning. Then Monty, all scratched-up and singed, complained some more. Ben listened to Monty's complaining patiently. He never joined Monty in his little rebellions, because Pappy hit him with his lightning even without him rebelling. But lightning wasn't as bad as the-b-word. Just thinking about the b-word made him want to vomit. Because when Pappy punished him with the b-word, he did vomit. He vomited for a week. But Pappy was not-mean in some ways: he never hit any kids with his hand.
But one day, Monty was transferred to the tapioca-churning unit. Ben didn't have anyone to listen to anymore, and his mind was still active even though his body was tired and aching. He became so lonely that he couldn't sleep. One night, he slipped outside to the scrap yard to, well..explore it. The polluted air outside wasn't any easier to breathe than the polluted air inside the factory, but during the night, he was able to satisfy his curiosity. Underneath the moon choked off by the clouds, Ben collected bits of scrap from the trash heap and having a knack for building, he made a shell, made a motor..not all during one night, but over many nights. When dawn broke he hid his tiny creation underneath his hard bed in his unadorned, plain room, identical to all the other unadorned plain rooms of all the other kids-except Monty's-Pappy had barred Monty's door so Monty couldn't escape.
One day, Pappy's thunderous voice that shook Ben to the core of his being pulled him off the floor. He dropped his sack of flour off to the side so his fellow workers wouldn't trip on it, got out of line, and sort-of ran against the heavy weight of his ball-and-chain to Pappy's office.
"Monty!"
"Ben, get outta the way!" Monty warned.
"QUIET, BOTH OF YOU!"
Ben shuddered, while Monty glared and crossed his arms over his chest. "BOYS, I HAVE BEEN WATCHING BOTH OF YOU. MONTY, YOU ARE A VALUABLE WORKER BUT I FIND YOUR ATTITUDE TO BE...DISAGREEABLE." Monty's upward stare remained hard and unyielding. "AND AS FOR YOU, BENEDICT...YOU NEVER CEASE TO DISAPPOINT ME! YOUR INCOMPETENCE IS UNBELIEVABLE!"
"I-I'm s-sorry, P-Pappy!" Ben cowered, and he crouched down so low that something fell out of his shorts pocket.
"WHAT IS THAT?!"
"Uh-um...a r-robot..?" Ben picked up the whirring, rolling thing and held it up to him, almost in offering. "I m-made it.."
"Alright, Ben!" yelled Monty. "You musta snuck out and gone down to the scrapyard! Way to stick it to the old man!"
Ben shook his head rapidly as Monty was heaping praise and encouragement on him, feeling the crushing weight of Pappy's yellow gaze on him.
"I w-wasn't trying to s-stick it to a-anyone..! I j-just w-wanted to m-make s-something th-that's l-like th-th factory machinery..l-like a l-little v-version o-of it..."
"WHAT?!" WHAT INSUBORDINATION IS THIS?! YOU FIND CONDITIONS UNPLEASANT HERE, DO YOU?"
What Ben didn't say was that he made the robot because working here made him feel like the robot. With no worth outside a programmed function. Or something to that effect. But Pappy understood what Ben was trying to say. And Ben scrambled to make amends.
"N-no, I l-like it h-here, P-Pappy! I-I c-can get r-rid of it I-if you don't w-want m-me to have it, Pappy..!"
"IT'S TOO LATE, BENEDICT. I WAS ONLY GOING TO DO THIS TO MONTY, AS I CAN NO LONGER IGNORE HIS REBELLION, BUT I AM NOT AT ALL OPPOSED TO DO THIS TO YOU!"
"Just try it, you decrepit eleventy-billion year old sack of evil!" shouted Monty, chest out, hands tightly closed into fists.
"P-please, P-Pappy, d-don't hurt me!" Ben covered his head with his hands.
Pappy coldly reached out with his creepy long fingers and touched the both of them on the forehead, blasting his energy into them. The two kids both screamed, and Ben fell over onto the floor, curling into a ball. Monty threw every insult and mean word he knew at Pappy, and stood fast despite the massive amounts of evil energy pulsing into him, causing his body to convulse.
"NOW BOYS, GET BACK TO WORK," Pappy commanded with a cold smile.
"Y-yes, P-Pappy," said Ben, his eyes now a pale blue.
"Blow it out your robe!"
"WHAT?!" roared Pappy. "THE DELIGHTFULIZATION ONLY WORKED ON BENEDICT. IT FIGURES," Pappy said with contempt. "WELL, I MIGHT AS WELL TAKE ADVANTAGE OF HIS ENHANCED COMPLIANCE...BENEDICT, DESTROY YOUR RIDICULOUS ROBOT."
'Y-yes, Pappy," Ben picked up his robot.
"No Ben, don't do it!"
Ben crouched down, and brought the robot down hard onto the floor repeatedly until it broke into a pile of screws, wheels, and a now-destroyed motor.
"You monster...! I'll NEVER stop fighting you, Pappy! And one day I'll bring_you_down!" Monty swore, defiance in his dark blue eyes. Pappy zapped Ben's ball and chain, which fell off of him a clank. Ben looked down at it dully, and then shuffled off back to the factory floor to continue hauling the flour. Monty's mouth dropped in sad shock, while Pappy sneered down at Monty. It was clear that the Evil King of the World was assured of his absolute control.