Larry was draped across a faded purple couch in a small living room in a small house in a small world in a large machine. He didn't exactly remember how he got there after the drive but he didn't care all too much. All he knew was that he'd leaned against the glass window of the car in a bout of exhaustion and now he lay here. What mattered though, was that he'd finally gotten a break. All that dramatic flashbacking was quite emotionally exhausting.

Everything was just... quiet. Maybe not peaceful, there was still a lingering sense of dread hanging in the air, but it was quiet. And his rest allowed him to think a little more clearly without focusing on the horrid things.

Larry's ears pricked up at a small child's voice, although it was hard to tell the age other than from the manner of speaking, as it was so deep.

"But I don't WANT to go! I want to see Red and Duck again! Where'd you put them? Give them back to me!"

Hmm. The child must have been screaming terribly loud but it was certainly muffled by many many walls. There was someone else speaking, but they were far too quiet.

"Stop pulling on my hand, it hurts! I don't want to go, I don't want to go!"

More unintelligible dialogue.

"But you said I wasn't supposed to go in that room? Why are we-"

The words were cut off by the deafening slam of a door. Larry didn't think much of it though, he simply rolled over and went back to sleep.

...

It was a few hours later...

"Wake up you dullard."

"Hmm..? Oh hey there Mr. Roy sir... Is it job time?" Larry's sense were still a little dulled by the drowsiness.

Roy wordlessly grabbed the lamp's wrist and jolted him off the couch. He didn't respond cooperatively though, opting to just collapse on the floor, forcing Roy to drag him across the house.

"Oh will you just GET UP you worthless sack of garbage?!"

It was a little unnerving to hear Roy yell. "...garbage..?"

"You want to get paid, right? Then get up and follow me," the older man snarled.

"Mkay..." he groaned sleepily.

After shoving himself to his feet, Larry followed the tall man through the halls to a large metal door. Inside was a dark room with a black and white checkered floor and a weird machine in it, with tubes twisting up into the ceiling and three separate monitors displaying distorted images.

"Now what's this all about?"

"That doesn't matter. As long as you're in it, I can control you without trouble. As it turns out, it is ready to contain humans, I underestimated my work ethic." Roy's voice fell into its normal monotony, cold and empty. "You're in luck though. You'll be the last object I'll ever have to hire for real. I can make the rest myself."

The man reached into his pocket and dug out an excessively long and extremely sharp screwdriver. For a small moment, the object didn't know how to react. His thoughts were slow as a snail until suddenly, Larry felt a pang in his chest that snapped him out of his stupor. With a complete clarity to his voice, he frantically asked, "What d'you think you're doing with that?" He anxiously took a few steps back. If he placed himself correctly and hid it with fear, he could bolt for the door and get out in time.

"I'm just going through with my plan..." Roy poised himself for a struggle as he drawled on. The two of them locked eyes for a few seconds, waiting for the next move.

"I should say though, I've already killed all my other employees, and they were some of the worst out there. I highly doubt YOU of all people could-"

As Roy was boasting, Larry made a break for it. He swerved to the left, hopping over the wires that burst out from behind the machine. Diving for the exit was his best bet, better than simply sprinting. Roy whipped around and bolted for him.

Larry slammed against the large metal door in his frenzy and grabbed for the latch. His hands slipped and shook as he grasped for it, and right as he turned it in his hands and began to pry the door open, he felt a tug on the back of his head. Roy had grabbed his ponytail and was jerking him away from his escape to safety. Larry's hat flew off his head as it jerked away, and his precious belonging rolled onto the ground and out the door.

Roy jolted Larry forward so the two were facing each other and JABBED the screwdriver straight into his chest. Larry twitched and grasped at Roy's skinny arms, trying to pry it away as ink oozed out and coughed from his mouth, but he was already starting to weaken. Roy twisted the screwdriver around in a circle, widening the messy wound before jolting it out of his chest.

Larry collapsed backwards and felt his head crack against the floor tiled. He tried to grasp at his wound but his arms wouldn't move- everything was pressing down on his body, he couldn't move anything! He felt his breathing stutter and gasp- his eyes started to roll back into his skull-

...

Roy looked down at the corpse. A job rather well done, if he could say so himself. Not as good as some of the others, but not a failure. Now the final stages would be complete. And he'd be able to FINALLY teach his son a lesson properly.

Roy grabbed the object's leg and dragged him towards the machine. It's such a shame that he had to kill them to put them in; it was a waste of quality creatures. But the trade off for full control was worth it. Far more efficient and failproof than telling them what to do for the lessons. And putting real objects in as information would make the works inside the machine so much more accurate. Everything he ever wanted really was falling into his hands.

And best of all, Red was none the wiser.