Author's Note: Well after submitting chapter six to "Re:," my other Yin Yang Yo! story, I had decided to continue writing for my first story after doing so; in fact, it only took me three to publish this you know. It's a shame that school has started; however, I'm not caring so here it is.

Punching Clockworks In the Oranges

Now Ella was reaching to her workstation in little to no time at all, revealing to be a bunch of squarely diced cubicles. Each of them were all standing fifteen decimeters tall, isolating the occupants from the sights and noises of an open workspace in exchange for more privacy and concentration from within those psychosomatically closed doors called diligence. It was suspended from the partitions of cubicles, as is had shelved, overhead storage, and other amenities. Thought often seen as being symbolic condition of working in a modern office setting alike in fair dignity, the only source for the joy the occupants to be found within and contemplated for it was villainy. If there were any kinds of words at all that could easily describe how bland the basic workplace idea format was, the tangerine cat would have totally picked them out by now instead of choking on them from within (mentally of course).

In any case, she was sipping a mug filled with tea by the copier when her friends Chucky and Bob dashed through the vestibule like as if a car chase with lawmen and lawbreakers alike had continued on foot, all onscreen and not off camera for the entire world to see on (national) television; however, it's mostly because the drinker quickly deduced that they were rushing to work today. "Hey, watch it you two; you almost got tea on my blouse!" Ella lightly screamed as she felt few of those drops of the tea spill onto her chest. The rubbery being responded astutely, "and a good morning to you…" "Morning…?" the purple being said as he was easily confused about the current situation in question that was taking place right as of now, "but Bob thought it's today." "This morning is today, Bob," the cat groaned as she smacked herself in the face lightly out of annoyance to Bob's inanity towards such things that were even this kind of simpler like the concept of time itself. Chucky then struck up a short conversation with the rest of the trio as a question popped into his mind like if the long dead theory of the old bait and switch called spontaneous generation was reincarnated and restructured into this, "so uh, what did you do last night?" "Nothing much," she'd answered to the blue one, "all I had done was snacking and reading." "Wow… that was just all you'd done last night?" the tall one had countered gauchely as Ella had told the inquirer her very own answer. The tangerine cat, in turn, responded again, "as a matter of fact, it was; after all, a mind is a terrible thing to waste."

Speaking of the platitude "waste," the conversation had to be ended too soon as a voice was squawking and gurgling angrily as if a cat got onto the tongue of someone who'd been under the weather, burning at one's own redness; in fact, it was ironically Eradicus who had his beak near at the microphone that was turned on with the push of a button. "Welcome to another one of your worst days of your lives; this is Eradicus, your Corporate Executive Officer speaking," the blood-red griffin declared as he spoke awkwardly into the microphone, "here are the announcements for today. First off, to counter our losses in the coffee fiasco from yesterday morning, it has been randomly and unanimously decided that a racecar experiment will be conducted to boost sales and productivity known as 'the Gotham Project' so if anyone wishes to sign up for the program do so immediately during lunchtime; but be warned: this is a first come, first serve basis so speed it up. Secondly, all remaining Eradicocoa and other Eradicafe-related products will be auctioned off to the highest paying entrepreneur from Bostonia; as a result, current café products will be replaced with regular and decaf coffee. Next, due to a certain wall banger's actions from late yesterday afternoon, the indoor baths will be closed for renovations and to protect the mutually shared gender based privacy of those who practice personal hygiene. Then, we will be conducting a thirty minute routine maintenance check on all cable and satellite providers that will last from 2:30 PM to 3:00 PM. Lastly, but not least, with the owner of an orange Yamasaki with the license plate 'KISAWAKA' please move your vehicle right now this instant; your vehicle is in a 'Trolls Only' zone, being raided by hungry orange penguins. That is all for now; goodbye…"

"MY MOPED!" someone screamed, presumably the owner of the so said automobile as footsteps were being heard very rapidly as they exited the room, an orange tall, egg-shaped being dressed in a light blue straight sleeved coat, a simple pair of red shoes, a toque, and a full body apron with a blue striped pocket on the front. Chucky, Bob, and Ella looked on speechlessly as they saw the proprietor run out the building and into the parking lot where they turned their eyes to a window and saw the Yamasaki owner outside nearing to where his orange moped was, unsuccessfully feasted upon and raided by at least ten to fifteen of those light carroty creatures that were briefly described earlier by the announcer. Although their round body, light tan feet, small stubby arms, and rosy cheeks below those sparkling chestnut-colored eyes of theirs made the penguins indomitably cute and cuddly, the owner had a shred of fear and loathing that carried him around since the day the homeland became a impenitent plutocracy. The owner once served as the temporary royal cook for the king servants, serving sandwiches at a height so small it was the equivalent of a slice of old stale bread being served to the unjustly persecuted in the long decaying camp of nightmares. When the penguins' health started to decay the following morning after, they were so starved they'd rebelled against the king and his subjects including the cook himself; even though that the problem was peacefully resolved that same morning, they still carried their grudge three days later when it was the day that his customers dined and ditched the establishment out of disrespect. Whether or not this was the reason why the owner left to work as a kitchen chef for the Night Master wasn't the case at all for that he was trying to drive them away, only to be tackled by each of them senselessly.

Normally, this would be seen by anyone with an ambiguous sense of humor yet there were also those that were thinking, saying, and/or doing otherwise in a situation like this for example; even the cat would be far from amused and so she'd averted her eyes with such boredom while leaving the room to report direct to her employer. Her tall colleague turned to see what she was doing and asked, "where are you going?" "The office, its name, Eradicus, I'm going," Ella answered emotionlessly, "we got work to do." "Oh right, now I remember," Chucky pondered as he stepped away from the windowpane that similar way the cat did, leaving only but Bob only their laughing like crazy.

Author's Note: Well, nothing to say here except this: Please Read and Review...