Sellbot HQ had been a storm of activity compared to the tame, almost peaceful life that Glen had lived since he had finished basic training. The chunky cog had never been much for the fighting and animosity towards the Toons that had been drilled into his head from the second he was manufactured. He remembered his instructor Mindy had been quite strict on him, often humiliating him. One time he had questioned why they were fighting even the Toons, and why they wouldn't just live their own lives and had been thoroughly chewed out. Since then Glen had mostly stuck to his own thoughts, rarely speaking to anybody else. Due to his more reserved nature, he had been assigned menial office tasks after completion of his training. Surprisingly, he quite enjoyed the forms and documents he had been ordered to process. The monotonous task allowed him plenty of time to dwell in his thoughts. Between paperwork he would sneak out his notebook and write down notes for his novel he planned to write. Glen had always dreamt of being a writer; to be able to tantalize souls with his storytelling. The Glad Hander would not dare to tell anybody else about his ambitions, however. While writing wasn't necessarily against any rule, after all there were books in Cog Nation, it had not been what he was programmed for. If somebody found out he was writing he would like be demoted, or worse... sent for re-education as it was known to the lower tier of cogs. There had been a rumor that a Telemarketer somewhere had emotions. This "flaw" had caused the poor cog to be tormented constantly. One day the Telemarketer disappeared and was never seen again. Part of Glen wished that the Telemarketer had gotten away from this awful place, somewhere where he could live and be true to himself. After all if it could happen to them, it could happen to him. Glen wasn't quite sure why he even had feelings when most other cogs didn't seem to. Was it a defective unit inside of him? As he was lost in his thoughts he was shocked by a loud voice. "Glen! Wake up!" The daydreaming cog had been snapped back to reality with a booming yell from his new superior. An identical looking cog stood in front of him, his supervisor Gary. Gary was the head of the Glad Hander unit, a towering figure among the Sellbots, and the only Glad Hander to be promoted above level eight. In Sellbot HQ, each cog had their own faction that was set aside specifically for invasions - Minglers, Telemarketers, etc. These factions were in charge of planning everything from the location, district, and the amount of cogs that would go, which was quite a lot of power when most decisions came from much higher on the corporate ladder. Due to an overwhelming pile-up of defeats at the hands of the Toons in the previous weeks, more cogs from the city were brought in to supplement the forces in Sellbot HQ.

"Sorry, sir. I was just thinking about our upcoming mission. I have never actually battled a Toon, so I'm a bit worried." Glen rubbed the bald spot on his head, relaxing the tensing muscles in his neck and shoulders with the light massage. Glen had always wondered why things like anger, jealousy, and indifference were not considered emotions to the cogs, but happiness, sadness, and anxiety were shunned.

"Worried? You better curb that crap, Glen. Most here have never fought a Toon either and you don't see them worrying. That's what the training you went through was for, was it not? Nobody is going to be out there to protect you but yourself, so best be prepared." Shaking his head, Gary sighed. "I can't believe I was given a cog with emotions. How am I supposed to lead a team with someone who is going to cry because they saw a flower, or whatever you emotional types do? It's a shame what has happened to the cog race. It was one thing when it was a Telemarketer, but a Glad Hander? Sickening. Just, get your attacks ready. We are going to be smarting off small and hitting some small settlement outside of Toontown. It will be so simple that even a failure like yourself should be able to survive. We're leaving in five minutes. You best be there." Gary turned around and pinched his forehead. "Actually, feel free not to come. It might make my job a lot easier."

Glen gulped at the contempt that his supervisor clearly felt for him. Even he, a normally oblivious cog could tell. It wasn't unusual for cogs to hate each other. After all, their entire existence was based on their ability to climb the corporate ladder, and to do so meant proving yourself more worthwhile than your peers. Glen thought back to the memo he received a few weeks ago that had ordered him to Sellbot HQ. How on the news he heard about the "Glad Hander Massacre" that had occurred in Toontown a few weeks prior. Forty-thousand Glad Handers destroyed in just one day. It was the largest defeat in cog history and left a stain on his kind's legacy. Even with this, if you had asked anybody that survived, they would have just told you how great of an opportunity it was for a promotion. Completely indifferent to the terrible tragedy that it should have been seen as. Pulling out his notepad, Glen began to scribble a few notes about his book. "Make main character bold and brave. He will stand strong in the face of any danger. But he is also sweet and gentle. Someone who could fight off a horde of enemies and then save the heroine." Stuffing his notes back into his pocket, he jogged out of the lobby outside to join the ranks.

In the courtyard of Sellbot HQ, the seemingly immortal Vice President had come out to greet the new fighting cogs as was tradition. Preparing a rousing speech, he rolled back and forth, sucking on a cigar and talking up the cause. "Now, I know for many of you this is a dream come true. An opportunity to prove yourselves. After all, defeating Toons is the action a cog should take. However, feel no shame knowing that you may fall in battle. Toons are known cheaters. They will use any dirty tricks in the book to snuff out our business practices. They think their silly shenanigans will prevail? Well, I think it is time to demoralize them. Now, I am not expecting all of you to be top-tier fighters yet. After all, most of you are only level fours at the moment. Today will be invading a small settlement just outside of Toontown. They're pretty powerless from research we have gathered from out Anti-Toon comrades, so it should prove to be a fantastic training opportunity. We cannot let the Toons feel safe at any time!" The fifth in command of the cogs continued his speech.

From behind Glen, he could hear the whispers of a pair of other Glad Handers. "Does he really think that we need to be coddled? Who does he think we are, Cold Callers? I bet that I could go into Toontown and green at LEAST three Toons. Maybe more."

"Yeah, but there's no good reason to disobey an order. You'll never get a promotion that way. Besides, he just said this place is pretty weak. You could easily green double the Toons. Maybe we can even take over a building! That's almost a guaranteed promotion." A second cog responded, quickly standing to attention when the VP narrowed his attention on them.

"A proper cog never interrupts his superiors! I hope whoever thinks they are worthy of usurping my position is ready to prove so, because otherwise I will not tolerate any chit-chat!" Clearing his throat, the Vice President tossed aside his cigar and faced the large crowd. "Alright my fellow Sellbots. Now get out there and show the rest of Cog Nation why we are truly the most powerful force!"

Breaking out into a muted cheer, the Glad Handers began to bust out their propellers, taking to the sky and heading off to what could likely be their one and only invasion. Glen had waited until almost all of his comrades had disappeared above, looking around and seeking a way out. Unfortunately for him, Gary had waited behind and had given him the stink-eye, all but guaranteeing that he was stuck heading to fight the Toons.


Billy plopped his boots up onto his desk. Leaning back in his wooden chair, the orange monkey reached out and took a sip of his apple juice, sighing in pleasure. "Ah, this is the life." As the sheriff of the smallest settlement around Toontown, the middle-aged Toon had found he had a lot of free time. Most of his days were spent taking naps, and reading books. It was another beautiful day, and he wouldn't let himself pass up an opportunity to relax. Toonstone had come to fruition when a large deposit of pixie dust had been discovered twenty miles outside of Toontown. Originally coming with his daughter to test his luck and strike it rich, Billy had quickly found himself falling in love with the tiny town and staying after most of the population had moved on to something else. In total, about six-hundred Toons had remained, and in one of their first actions, had elected Billy as the sheriff. The simian had been one of the few Toons who had any sort of experience fighting cogs, as he had been a Ranger in Donald's Dreamland for about two weeks when he was younger. Nowadays he was just a single father with a thirst for the simpler things. As he rested his eyes, knocking his hat over his head, he was quickly interrupted by a knock on the door. Scrambling to sit upright, he called out to his visitor. "Um. Yeah! Come on in!" Sitting a tad more professionally, he breathed a sigh of relief when a younger, blue cat sauntered into the room. "Ah, well if it ain't my little Muffin. What in tarnation are you doin' here this early?"

"Dad, please stop talking like a cowboy. Just because we live out in the boonies doesn't mean we need to act like it!" Leaping forward, the young cat raised herself onto her father's desk, pushing aside the feet that he had just raised back into their original position.

"Aw, come on. You're no fun." Billy grinned and tipped his cap, much to Muffin's annoyance. "So, what are you doing here so early in the day? It isn't like you to drop in on your dear old dad. Don't you have some Toontasks to work on or something?"

The chubby Toon tilted her head and put on an innocent face. "Ah, come on dad. Can't a daughter just drop by and say hello? Gosh, you act like I never come see you at work! I mean, didn't I come by last week?"

"Yeah, because you needed jellybeans..." Pulling out his jellybean bank, Chip rolled his eyes sarcastically. "How many do you need?"

Inhaling audibly, Muffin covered her heart with her hand. "You wound me with your accusations, father! I would ask for such a thing! Now, if you are offering, I GUESS I could take a few hundred jellybeans. You know, just to appease you. Gosh, what an awful thing to think about me though!"

"Ha-ha. No need to butter me up, sweetheart." Pouring the currency into his daughter's hands, he narrowed his eyes, feigning suspicion. "So, this doesn't have something to do with a boy, would it? After all, what have I told you about boys? They're nothing but trouble. Er, well except me. Your old daddio is still as hip and cool as ever."

"Sure dad, whatever you say." Muffin giggled. "Besides, it isn't like any boys like me anyways. They all want the tall, skinny Toons." Rubbing her belly, the short, chunky cat scowled. "Apparently a new shop just opened in Minnie's Melodyland and they have clothes designed for bigger Toons like me! Nothing against this... paradise of fashion, but there isn't a whole lot of options for Toons like me here."

Standing up, Billy walked over to his daughter and frowned. "Sweetie, you are the most beautiful Toon in the world. Anybody who can't see that is just a darn fool. I think if there's something too big about you, it is your brain. That thing is going to do some amazing things. You probably know more at eighteen than I do now."

Muffin smiled weakly, wrapping her arms around the monkey and resting her head on his chest. "Thanks, dad. Well, I'm sure that all of the guys will suddenly realize that intelligence is what they have wanted this entire time. I guess at least I can get myself some cute outfits now though. Thanks again, dad!" Planting a kiss on Billy's cheek, Muffin darted outside, waving behind her as she closed the door.

"Just like her mother. Don't worry hon, you're going to turn out just fine."


Due to the location being so far from Toontown, cogs showing up in Toonstone were a rare occurrence. Usually when it had happened, it was when a cog had gotten lost trying to find Toontown on their first expedition out of Cog Nation, and they were usually swiftly dealt with. However, this rarity had the side-effect of leaving the Toons unprepared. Aside from Billy, and a few other shops, gags were rare and fighting experience was low. Many felt the small town's resources were better used on other things, such as food or a giant dance floor in the middle of town. As usual, Jeanette had gone out for her morning walk. The elderly green mouse had recently widowed and had moved to Toonstone for a change of scenery and for a peaceful serenity. After all, Toontown had become a hodgepodge of fighting and chaos, something she didn't want to deal with in her final years. As the senior strolled in the still-warming sun, she smiled and stopped to look up at the sky. "What a beautiful morning."

"Morning, Jeanette!" Across the street, a yellow pig oinked as he unlocked the door to a small carpentry shop. "Beautiful morning, isn't it?"

"Perfect as usual! Have a wonderful day, Pork Rind!" Using her cane for support, the mouse continued. It was such a nice feeling to know all of her neighbors, something that she could never say when she lived in The Brrrrgh. Maybe she could convince her daughter to move out here. After all, being a wizard or a forensic scientoonst was no career for a young woman. Turning a corner, the elderly Toon stopped in her tracks as she noticed a large shadow forming underneath her, and growing bigger. "Well isn't that the strangest thing." Looking back up, the mouse let out a shriek. In the sky, hundreds of large cogs in brown suits descended from the heavens like a great plague.

All around Toonstone, Glad Handers landed, looking for Toons to fight, buildings to ransack, and chaos to pursue. Glen had been one of the last to make touchdown in the peaceful little town. He had found a small area where none of his comrades had begun flying towards, as many tended to stay near each other, always suspicious that their fellow cog would one-up them. As he tip-toed through the empty streets, he looked for a hiding spot. He had to be here, but he certainly didn't need to fight. Now would be an ideal time for him to write, and this could be great inspiration for his story. Eventually finding a small alley, the fat cog slipped his way through and ducked behind a wooden barrel, pulling out his notepad and writing furiously. "The main character is teleported to a different world. There are no other cogs, only a foreign species that he has never witnessed. As he explores his surroundings, he eventually realizes his desperation. However, he is brave so he doesn't fear his situation. Instead he embraces it." As he wrote, he heard a loud pitched scream coming from the street. It was unlike anything that he had ever seen before. Re-pocketing his papers, he stood up and slowly approached the edge of the wall which protected him from the sights of anybody who may be out to inflict damage upon him - cog or Toon. In the street he watched as a group of four Glad Handers surrounded a dark green Toon. Glen had learned a bit about Toons, but he didn't know the different species by name. The Toon appeared to be quite old, unable to stand by itself and relying on a cane.

"I'm a very hands on kind of guy." One cog smugly stated. Glen recognized him, it was the same cog that had been bragging from behind him. While there were no rules of engagement for battling Toons, even many high-ranking cogs stated that it was unprofessional to gang up on a Toon. The fact that this one seemed older, and unlikely able to fight back just made it more sickening. As Glen watched his supposed comrade throw out a rubber stamp, all he wanted to do was run out there and say something, anything. After all, wasn't that what the main character was supposed to do? Bravery in the face of unrelentless potential failure? Unfortunately, Glen was not the main character that he had dreamed of. He was a timid weakling. He hated it about himself, but he knew that standing up for a Toon would just lead to further problems.

"I think the handwriting is on the wall." The other Glad Hander that Glen recognized schmoozed the Toon, who had been knocked to the ground and was unable to stand up. From behind the cogs, a yellow Toon ran out of a small building with a cream pie, launching the pastry and smacking it right in the back of the robot's head. Shaking and trembling, the Glad Hander began to sputter his words and sweat oil. Bursting out into laughter, in a feat that amazed Glen, the cog began to spin uncontrollably, giggling in mirth that shocked the other three of his partners before finally exploding and scattering gears everywhere.

Glen's eyes widened as he watched the cog's quick death. How quickly the destroyed Glad Hander had spoken about his ambitions, and just minutes later he was gone. Unable to take his eyes off of what he was seeing, the cowardly cog cringed slightly as the other three of his kind began to gang up on the chubby yellow Toon who was quickly overwhelmed. With no help in sight, both Toons were quickly defeated and soon disappeared into black holes. The remaining trio had taken light damage, although their health indicators were still in the yellow, nothing that they couldn't handle. "Ugh, I always knew that Keith was going nowhere. Falls to the very first Toon he fights."

A different android dusted off his suit and grinned. "Well, it just looks like there is going to be one less competitor for that promotion. I heard that they are going to be opening a new office building in HQ. They're going to need cogs to fill in. I don't want to be doing these cheap invasions forever." Pausing, he stroked his chin. "Hey, it looks like that building over there is empty, why don't we go take it over. We can tell the Vice President that we had to fight off like twenty Toons! Who is going to say anything to the contrary?"

"Alright, but we're all getting credit for this. Just be thankful that sniveling idiot Glen isn't here. He'd probably go into the rule book and find something against it. I always hated him." The threesome burst into laughter as they made their way over to the carpentry shop where Pork Rind had left abandoned to try and save his friend.

"Ugh, Glen. You coward!" The cog smacked his forehead in frustration. "You're such a stupid loser. No wonder nobody likes you. Why can't you just be like everyone else?" Slipping out of the shadows, Glen walked over to where the pair of Toons had been defeated. Scanning his surroundings, the robot made sure nobody was watching. Pulling out his pen and paper, he flipped through to an empty page and quickly wrote down a few words. Tearing the page out of the notebook, he found a small rock and placed the paper on the ground, weighing it down with the stone. Whisking away, the paper stayed in place, safe from the wind. "I'm sorry." It read, as the guilty cog tried to leave behind what he had just witnessed.