Author's Notes: I remember reading a (now-deleted) fic about Clanker on this site and ever since then I've wanted to try writing my own, so here we are. If you were the author of that fic and happen to see this someday, then yeah, it's you! You're the real MVP, thanks for the inspiration.

Another shoutout goes to TurquoisePhoenix because her Klungo headcanons are great and I may have borrowed a few!

Other things to mention…I changed the Cavern's layout from the game because how does anyone other than Banjo and Kazooie get down there? I imagine there being a walkway in front of/above Clanker connected to a door on the right, and further down the left wall is another door that he wouldn't be able to see. I also imagine Clanker to be pretty expressive because I draw him making dumb faces all the time and it's fun, so he does that in this fic.

OKAY COOL, thanks for reading! Tear me apart in the reviews if you'd like!

CHAPTER ONE
CLANKER

A loud rattling in his throat – the sound of his breathing, he realized – was what finally woke him, though other noises around him had gotten close. There were a lot of them, actually: his joints clanked, water dripped from the ceiling, and even more water splashed over his body. He wasn't surprised to be partly submerged. Somehow, he knew he was built in the shape of a shark, though he was much closer in size to a whale.

"Machine isss awake…can hear Klungo?" a familiar voice called.

The shark nodded vacantly. He could hear the voice just fine, but he needed some time to take everything in: his swirling thoughts, the feeling of sharp teeth in his mouth, flicking his tail to stay afloat… His eyes had never been used before and they were still unfocused from his deathly sleep. He had to blink hard for them to start working, but with a few clicks of his metallic eyelids, the speaker eventually came into view.

"Klungo" turned out to be a hulking, green-skinned man with disastrous-looking teeth. His face was lopsided, as one of his bulging yellow eyes was much bigger than the other, and he had a crooked nose that was really more like a snout. It was only appropriate that the lab coat he wore was stained and ill-fitted to his misshapen form, anything else would have looked out of place. From this one piece of clothing, the shark guessed that the man was some kind of scientist…one who had built him and brought him to life, but he didn't think much of that just yet; he was still too distracted by the newness of being alive. So distracted, in fact, that the machine had only just noticed the metal walkway on which his creator stood, a platform that gave him some height as it was slightly above the shark's eye level. It spanned the width of the room and had railings on either side, one of which Klungo was leaning over.

The man stared down at the shark and the shark stared back. A minute passed as creator and creation sized each other up. Then Klungo asked, "Can machine speak?"

This was another thing the shark somehow knew: speaking was easy. "Of course" was what he wanted to say, but his voice had other ideas. To his surprise, all it wanted to do was make ugly, static noise. Frustrated, he then tried for a simple "Yes".

Klungo waited patiently, taking pages' worth of mental notes. His eyes never left the machine.

"…No," the shark admitted, then blinked. He'd done it.

Klungo nodded approvingly. "Good…Klungo want machine to understand what Klungo hasss to say. Machine is garbage grinder, mussst grind garbage for mistresss Grunty. Hatch up there," he pointed at the dark ceiling, "will open. Garbage will fall, machine will grind garbage, and – "

"Name is 'Machine'?" the shark interrupted, slightly confused. "Not very…creative. Sorry. What if Klungo's name was 'Green'?" Now that he could speak, he tried out a laugh. Given the room's echoey metal walls, it was very loud.

"What?" Klungo stared in disbelief. "N-no! No name, machine hasss no name," he shouted in protest. "Machine just old clunker, built to do as Klungo saysss and not get in trouble."

The shark wasn't listening because he was too busy inspecting his fins. "Not 'Clunker'…" he mused, "'Clanker'…because clank!" He beamed, fins clanking in agreement.

Klungo slicked back what little hair he had as he stammered, "M-machine not understand – "

"Clanker," the shark insisted, still smiling.

"Clanker not understand. Mistresss not want Clanker to have name or argue! Mistresss want Clanker to do job. Or punish Clanker." Klungo's entire face darkened. "Clanker not want to be punished by mistresss Grunty."

The shark's grin disappeared instantly. He stared at Klungo in wonder – the scientist had become so serious all of a sudden. Why was that?

The man didn't care to elaborate. Instead, he drummed his fingers against the railing. "Garbage will fall and Clanker will grind garbage…any lassst questionsss, asssk Klungo now."

Clanker decided that he didn't want to learn about being punished and instead looked around, racking his brain for another question. It was the first time he'd gotten a good look at his surroundings and noticed how tightly the rusted walls closed in on him. He unconsciously pulled his fins inward.

"…Can't move?" It sounded more like a plea than a question.

Klungo's face was inscrutable. "No."

"Why not?"

"Cavern is where garbage goesss, so here Clanker mussst stay."

Clanker frowned. That didn't seem fair – they should've chosen a bigger room. He couldn't even turn around.

Sensing the shark's irritation, Klungo warned him once more: "Don't argue, do what mistresss saysss…or else. Klungo mussst go now, will return for repairsss." He lumbered over to a door that was on the right side of the walkway and paused.

Clanker felt there was a lot more that his creator wanted to tell him, but all Klungo managed to say was "Good luck."

The door slammed shut.