The End Chapter 3 Rough Draft 1
Days Remaining Until the Apocalypse: 351
The gentle pitter patter of rain echoed through the tree house. BMO looked out the window to admire the gray sky. The robot always wondered something about the rain: If living things drink water, why don't they drink rain? It was a spectacle that it never truly understood, because BMO has never been able to consume water like Finn and Jake. In truth, it kind of made the robot feel just a little bit left out. It tried asking most of its living what is like to drink liquid. Heck, the robot didn't even understand what it was like to eat. It's rather difficult to explain the sensation of eating and drinking to an individual who can do neither. After all, BMO's face was merely a screen.
Finn and Jake were almost ready to depart for the Candy Kingdom. BMO had been there only a few times, so its memory of the that place was a little hazy. All that it could remember was that it was made entirely of sugary sweets. For those that never visited the kingdom, it was a place that only seemed to exist in pure imagination. For that reason, BMO was, in its synthetic mind, justified in asking to join Finn and Jake. The two another look outside; it was practically raining sideways.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," Finn said. "Besides, there's nothing for you to do over there. Bubblegum has all the fun stuff closed for the emergency meeting."
The robot formed a curious expression. "Meeting? I was not aware of this."
"Haven't you heard?" Jake asked. "It even said so in Ooo Weekly: Kingdoms are Meeting to Discuss the Arson Epidemic."
Finn turned towards Jake. "We're still receiving that?" He asked. "I thought you stopped paying for it."
Jake laughed. "They don't know that," he said. "Speaking of which, where is it?"
BMO looked around the living room, but couldn't find it. "I don't mind having nothing to do," said the robot, getting back on the topic it favored.
Finn was opening the door as the robot was speaking. Before he could say anything, the air burst inside the home, and nearly blew several things off the tables. BMO was knocked on its back, and Jake had to help the robot up due to its rectangular design. To get up easily, a normal person would need to bend their back to lift themselves up, but BMO's simple, cube-like design didn't have a bendy spine. Although the help was greatly appreciated, BMO couldn't help but be humiliated at its inability to do a task others could do with ease. The three were unanimous in their answer, but the level of disappointment was the opposite. With that, Finn and Jake made their departure through the hurricane.
BMO heard the door click in place as they made their leave, and the house seemed to go quiet. It stood there for a moment just to be sure that they didn't forget anything. A situation like that would interrupt its private time. When it became apparent that they weren't coming back for a few hours, the robot went to the basement check on Neptr. With the other robot's sleep mode activated, BMO knew that it was truly by itself.
The bathroom door creaked as BMO pushed it open. It made a mental note to remind them about that squeaky bathroom door. These rooms were odd places for robots; many living organisms carry out functions that artificial beings couldn't really understand. Alas, that didn't stop BMO from trying to imitate them. The robot went behind the toilet where it kept a secret glass cup. BMO climbed to sink, filled the cup with water, and pretended to urinate.
"BMO," said a voice from the mirror, "I've been waiting here for ages."
"Just hang on," replied BMO. "I'm almost ready."
BMO emptied its make-believe bladder and climbed up to the sink. Sitting in a cup was Finn's toothbrush; it was rather dry, and seemed like it hadn't been used in some time. The hygienic tool stood there, enjoying its own glossy blue coat. The toothbrush, however, felt as though it could do without the fingerprints. Thankfully, since prints such as that can only be left by the living, BMO didn't leave any signs of tampering when using it. The robot rubbed the toothbrush on its screen, pretending that it was cleansing its teeth. BMO, of course, didn't use any toothpaste. Sometimes, the robot still wonders why "minty" is used to describe toothpaste. In fact, BMO couldn't grasp the notion that mint is different from cold, due to various comparisons everyone makes of the two. After setting the toothbrush aside, BMO turned around to doublecheck if anyone was looking. Nobody seemed to be intruding until a gust of wind ambushed BMO from behind. At first, it seemed like it was some sort of wind wizard, but it was just pure nature. Not having to worry about much else, BMO greeted Football, the voice from the mirror.
Football was almost like BMO's identical twin. She had an identical rectangular design, an aquamarine color scheme, and a set of buttons that mirrored BMO's. The similarities stop when one doesn't compare their aesthetic traits. Football stood in a way that was more confident and aggressive than the polite and gentile BMO.
"Hello, Football." BMO gently waved its hand. "Have you been working on your table manners."
Football sighed. "But it's boring."
BMO forwarded its pixilated brow. "It wouldn't be boring if you got it right the first time. You keep screwing it up on purpose!" It waved both of its arms around in a childish manner.
Football let out a chuckle. "Maybe," she muttered.
"All real boys and girls have proper etiquette. Now, we'll try tea time again, and I won't stop until you get it right," said BMO. The robot detached the mirror from the wall and carried it to the living room.
"But Finn doesn't have to do tea," said Football as they got on the coffee table.
"Finn's a real boy, but adventuring requires too much energy and causes him to get dirty."
Football smiled. "That actually sounds fun. I want to join Finn."
"No," shot BMO. "It's too dangerous for you. Finn can do because he's a lot stronger than us."
Football groaned in a manner that showed a mix of being annoyed and disappointed at once. She sat on the table, waiting patiently for BMO to set up the imaginary tea pot and cups. If they were real, they would probably be made up of some sort of fancy china. BMO instantly thought of Bubblegum's real tea set. Her collection of china was fitting for her status as a princess. BMO was sure that Bubblegum's servants cleansed and polished those things at least five times a day. Since the shine of her china rivaled that of precious metals, BMO couldn't forget the first and only time it could see such elegant tools for simple beverages. It looked back at the imaginary cups set up and started to frown in disappointment. In an act of jealousy, BMO imagined that its china not only had a better shine than the princess's, but also had been encrusted with diamonds. But that wasn't enough. BMO had to pull out the big guns. In each of the cups, there was an emerald resting at the bottom. This made the cup enchanting to look at on its own, but it also possessed the magic ability transform the flavors of the tea to suit its drinker. It didn't stop there; whenever one of the cups were set down, one beautiful, if simple, firework went off in the sky. Following that spectacle, a piece of bread would spontaneously appear in front of a duck who didn't have the gift of an old person feeding them.
This supposed comeback did elevate the robot's mood a little bit. Football was getting increasingly rebellious against the situation. In the first few lessons, she'd do so well. Not a single motion was out of order when BMO gave instructions. Now, Football purposely tipped over the cup, spilling the tea. Good thing it was imaginary; the towels were one of the things that BMO couldn't reach. Both knew that the reason for this misconduct was Football's readiness to experiment with adventure. Then, BMO had an idea to get this bad behavior to stop.
"How about this?" BMO asked. The question caused Football to pause her actions. "If you stop misbehaving, we can play adventure."
Football collected her thoughts before answering. "Sure," she said. Although it wasn't as exciting as real adventuring, pretend was better than nothing.
BMO showed Football how to properly hold the teacup. Her skill in doing so showed no signs of decline. Of course, BMO was the only one in the house that seemed to care. Football looked toward BMO, noticing that the robot seemed to avoid direct eye-contact with her. BMO sat down its cup and looked at the rain covered window. Football began to speak, hoping to break the awkwardness of the sudden silence.
"Hey BMO," Football said, "is something wrong?"
"Just thinking." BMO took a sip of the tea.
"Are you thinking about the princess again?" Football's remark was met with a frown.
"Just a little bit," said BMO. Many children grow up seeing people, real or fictional, enjoy the luxuries of being either rich or royal. Many grown women can't forget when either their young selves or others went through a princess phase. It was a life that one would naturally admire. BMO saw it as the focal point of happily-ever-afters. Reaching that point would be comparable to heaven; one could get everything they ever wanted and not lift a finger.
Football snapped her fingers to regain BMO's fleeting attention. While the robot was released from dreamland, it wasn't Football's gesture that caused the awakening. The cause of it was a blurry figure on the horizon. The idea that someone was out in this hurricane baffled BMO. But any thoughts of the wandering person were interrupted by Football's continued pestering. She rushed through her lessons as fast as she could to get to what she deemed fun. Although BMO wanted to spend more time on tea, it decided that it was best to keep its word. At least preparation for such play was minimal, with the only requirement being an active imagination.
The first thing that was thought of was a bridge, but Football said that it wouldn't be a good place to hide the ultimate monster. The next thing that was suggested was a castle, but that idea has been overdone. But then, Football remedied the simplicity of the castle idea. Instead, they went with the idea of a fort protecting a village a mile south.
Part of the fort's outer wall had collapsed from the pressure it had recently faced. Several of the archer outpost ceased to be anything but a pile of rubble, which would theoretically leave the place open to be ransacked. However, there was one being that singlehandedly took over the establishment. With flames acting as patches for the fortress's wounds, nobody landbound could enter or exit. Getting comfortable on the highest roof of the fortress was a twenty-foot tall dragon with flames pouring out of his mouth after every breath. Of the crowd of soldiers involved in the spectacle, there were three different actions they were taking: chilling as a skeleton, running way, or wetting their pants. The only exception were two knights mounted on their horse. The light of the fire reflected of their sets of shining armor, creating a soothing shine to those fortunate enough to see it. They were Squire BMO and Lady Football!
Unlike the other knights of that army, they remembered to bring pole-vaults. With their tools, they leaped over the blazing wall and infiltrated the fortress. Leaving the horse behind would mean that they wouldn't gain enough moment to pull an escape like that. But, it was a knight's duty to never retreat and never surrender. BMO and Football knew that, and marched to take back what belonged to their army. They jumped over pulls of lava and evaded the dragon's fiery breath while the very foundation of the fortress was crumbling in on itself. Things changed when they made it to the room penultimate to the dragon's. The duo stood still when they picked up the faint trace of an ominous, unfamiliar sound. The source of it wasn't the dragon. If it was, then the noise would've been much more discernable. Upon further hearing, they could make out the sound; it was an aggressive pounding in the distance. They agreed to take cover and distance themselves from the unknown force. They were wise to take cover, because they could hear the collapse of the western wall as another entity seemed to join the fray. Following the destruction of the wall, a heavy windstorm was brought upon the fortress. Sadly, the wind did nothing to subdue the flames. If anything, the flames were fanned to the point where they became even more volatile then they first were. Soon, a being of colossal proportions began to charge in the dragon's direction.
A giant was what they pretended the person to be. The one who torn down the stone wall was a guy who busted down the tree house's door. He climbed the ladder and made haste to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and scarfed down the most readily available food and drink, which included Finn's meatloaf. "Well, that was rude," thought the two. BMO thought the intruder looked familiar. Perhaps it was the lone figure the robot saw earlier?
If being wet wasn't enough, his apparel smelled like a rotting corpse. Thankfully, BMO and Football were spared of such a putrid odor. However, they weren't shielded from the dirty sight they witnessed. The color of his clothes was faded beyond belief, removing any sort of aesthetic pleasure. Holes ranging from big to small dotted his shirt and jeans, and judging from his shivering, the hooded cloak he was wearing did little to protect him. Just a little less than half of visible body was covered in large scabs; the rest was lined with varying degrees of dirt. The only thing that seemed to be in well-kept condition was an object wrapped in cloth. Compared to the material of his clothes, the object seemed to be in relatively fantastic condition.
BMO was intimidated by this person. What unsettled the robot the most was not his unclean appearance. His height was eerily like Finn's. Even though the cloak did do a good job of covering the intruder's body, BMO could tell that he also had a similar distribution of muscle and bone. The only obvious physical difference was his black coarse hair, which was unlike Finn's soft blond hair. Something about the juxtaposition of similar and contrasting traits felt rather uncanny too BMO. Football was also afraid of this unfamiliar figure, but, with a couple little things called courage and peer pressure, she metaphorically dragged BMO to confronting the person.
BMO crept up behind him. With every step, he seemed to continuously tower over everything. Before raising its voice, the robot readied its twig, hoping to summon the same courage Squire BMO had. Football's presence did little to ease the robot's trembling.
"W-w-who dares intrude on this battle," squeaked BMO.
Upon hearing the robot speak, the person quickly turned around. He held the clothed item as his head darted in various directions, looking for who spoke. His body went tense along with his concentration. The young man went into a stance that could only be read as preparing for a fight. But then, he looked beneath him.
What he saw wasn't a threat. Upon him was a small, scared robot standing next to a mirror. The sight was downright pitiful from the way he saw it. A fragile, scared little electronic using a twig as a makeshift sword. He could easily pick up and throw the thing across the room if it dared to challenge him. He set down his wrapped object and went out of his tense state. Instead of acting out that violent thought, he simply stared down the robot. This added a pinch of impatience to BMO's frightened state.
"The dragon can wait," shouted BMO, who was still frightened. "What art thou's name, giant!"
BMO pointed the twig toward the intruder, trying and failing to look brave. He laughed at this gesture, realizing that the robot was basically just an innocent kid. He patted the top of BMO's head and took down his hood. "I'm sorry about that. Did I scare you?" He said. A welcoming smile made its way on the young man's face. To answer the question, BMO nodded. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Red. I needed a place to sit out this storm, so I let myself in." BMO went to peak at the front door and noticed that the knob was knocked clean off the main door. The robot gave Red a glare of disappointment.
Red gave a nervous laugh. "Hey, I thought no one was home!" BMO was unfazed now that his intimidating image seemed to vanish. "Alright," Red said. He decided to give in to the inferior's silent demands. "I'll see if I can fix the door for you." Red finally said.
He went to the piece of property he damaged. Red didn't enjoy getting close to the cold weather again, but he decided he had nothing to lose. He studied the door and its severed knob, but it only served as a reminder of one fact about himself.
"Wait a second," said Red. "I don't know how fix doors." So, he cheated by grabbing some duct tape to keep it shut. "Good as new!" He presented his work of art to BMO with a thumb up.
BMO threw the twig at Red's face in to make its opinion clear. Such twigs were harmless to nearly anyone who wasn't an insect. He knocked it aside to show his lack of appreciation for the criticism. "I'll just hire a tool guy after this storm," he said. Red looked around the treehouse. To the visitor, this was cozy place. Being caught in a storm like that would make anyone grateful for a warm shelter. Although, he couldn't figure out how the walls were still stable, since much of it was comprised of leaves. At least the floor made sense because of its stable wooden planks. He continued to look around until he saw the bathroom.
"Hey, if you don't mind I'm going to myself cleaned off." Red shooed away the flies hovering over him, grabbed it clothed possession, and darted to the bathroom. Immediately, Football and BMO could hear the water starting to run. They still viewed the visitor as a bit odd and weren't sure what to do about him once he got out.
"What a wierdo," said Football. "Do you think he'll really hire a repair guy."
BMO shrugged. "I'm not sure. Do you think we should wake up Neptr? Maybe he'll know what to do."
Football nearly laughed. "That kid? Won't he just throw pies at him or something like that? Besides, isn't that against proper etiquette?" She leaned back to emphasize the sarcasm in her remark. Football snapped her fingers. "I have an idea!" Football said, almost shouting. "I haven't seen too many real people myself, so I don't know if what you said was true." BMO looked at Football with intrigue. The robot wasn't sure where Football's idea was going. "I can't be seen around Finn and Jake, but Red might never visit again. Also, he shouldn't have much of a reason to bring up interactions if he does meet them. I want to see if that real boy has proper etiquette like you said." BMO basically gulped. If Football discovers that the claim is false, she'd lose all motivation to continue the lessons. The robot had to think fast to figure out a rebuttal.
"But, what if Red's an adventurer too?" BMO said.
"Well, this is getting suspicious. First, it's Jake, then Finn, and now, Red. Is everyone an adventurer or something?" Football shook her head while flaunting a smug looking smile. She interrupted the robot as it was about to speak. "I'm just going to ask Red myself," Football concluded. She decided that an answer out of BMO would be unreliable. It was time to get an answer straight from the horse's mouth.
Red peaked his head out of the bathroom. Seeing the head of the visitor triggered another thought about his similarities to Finn. Except for the hair, the size and shape of his head were the same as the human that lived there. BMO made a mental note to consider it later, since it could just be a mistake in the robot's perspective. Since BMO was spoken too, the robot looked at Red with open ears. "Do you have any extra clothes I could use?" He asked. BMO shushed Football when she tried to speak and went to fish something out of the closet. All the robot could find were a bunch of light blue t-shirts and dark blue shorts. Finn obviously didn't focus too much on fashion; the only bit of variety was one old shirt with a small, hastily stitched in pocket. BMO brought a pair to Red, who, with a bit of reluctance, accepted the outfit. They fit nicely, but Red couldn't help but find them childish compared to what he usually wears. However, the immature look of the clothes did not interfere with how grateful he was.
"You sounded like you talking to someone," Red said. "Who else is home." After letting the towel soak some water from his hair, he threw it on the ground instead of hanging it to dry.
"Hello," said Football, "BMO was talking to me." The robot in question wasn't fast enough stop Football from blurting out those words. After all, BMO never agreed to let her and Red meet. Red looked at BMO, who had the mirror by its side. The fact that he didn't see Football confused him.
"Pardon my friend here. My name is BMO, and this is Football." At this point, BMO had no choice but to let them met. Otherwise, it would look weird. BMO held up the mirror and angled it to show a reflection of itself. "Nice to meet you," said Football.
Red, however, still couldn't see Football. From his perspective, the mirror was just that, a mirror. It didn't house Football. All it did was show a reflection of little BMO. After putting two and two together, he decided to play along with what BMO perceived the mirror to be. This was, however, at the expense of a natural sounding speech. The words that came out of Red's mouth were those of forced politeness.
"So," he said. He began to trail off. "Thanks, I guess." He started to stretch to so he wouldn't have to focus all his attention on the possibly delusional AI. When it became clear that Red wasn't going to initiate further conversation, BMO took up the mantle. This way, Football wouldn't risk doing anything stupid.
"We were in the middle of playing adventure," said BMO, hoping that it could distract them from Football's question. "You can be the giant and help us slay the dragon."
Red chuckled. "Oh yeah, I remember you calling me one of those. I think I have a better idea." Red began to snap his fingers, expecting something to happen.
BMO looked at Red with intrigue. "What are doing?"
As Red grew impatient, he finally achieved the desired result. A small flame appeared from his hand. All three looked at the magic in awe. "Yes," he said with great joy, "I thought I lost this power." He turned toward BMO. "I think the role of a dragon suits me better." He tilted his head to show his confidence. BMO didn't see anything wrong with it, so they made the giant imaginary instead.
They played for few hours. Red was a good at being the dragon; he knew how to make his intimidation stay fresh for that time. With time, Red gained further control of the flame, making harmless fireballs that immediately fade away just before contact. Since he was holding back the destructive potential of his magic, the worst Red could do would be to make someone sweat. Even though they were seemed inept, the presence of actual fire was enough to make the game ten times more exciting. Not only that, but his unpredictability was enough to kept Lady Football and Squire BMO on their toes. Red did, however, started to get bored after the second hour. But since the hurricane refused to settle down, he didn't have much else to do.
Football was happy that Red was trying to end that game. She could finally get her question answered! BMO wasn't as happy, so trying to stall the finale seemed ideal. The Squire then told Red that, to properly end a game, he needs to prepare a grand finale. Judging by his facial expression, Red had an idea that he deemed perfect.
The entire floor became covered in flames. Wanting to avoid the game's main obstacle, BMO and Football made their way to the top of the couch. Red sat on top of one of the kitchen chairs and put on an exaggerated smile to look evil. The act would've almost been convincing if he didn't break into laughter.
"You will never defeat me!" Red proclaimed. He gasped and tipped himself over. "Oh no!" The more he spoke, the worse his acting became. "Now the brave adventurers can land the final blow, but they better hurry, because they only have one minute!" He couldn't help but continue to laugh at the situation.
The brave duo did their best to leap across the house's furniture. Meanwhile, Red was counting down from sixty to one out loud. He noticed the two struggle to make it across, by the time he reached thirty, the two weren't even half way there. The only way for the grand finale to work would be if they arrived on time, so he slowed down his counting. He had to this until one second started to last for one minute. This lasted until they reached Red. By that point, there was a good 25 seconds on the clock. Red then began to count down at an absurdly fast rate. After all, every good finale has the heroes arrive in the nick of time. Just before Red reached one, BMO had smacked him with the twig, breaking it in the process. Despite it the ineffectiveness of the weapon, Red just pretended it pierced his heart. He let out one last, mighty roar and fell into his own flames. Red tried to fall with grace, believing that his favorite form of death, an ironic one, should never be done without turning it into a work of art.
The dragon burned in the very fire that he created. Every flame that came close to him grew as bright as the sun. Soon, the wrathful creature was not more This was, of course, simply pretend. Red lied there with his mouth and eyes open, trying to imitate a normal death pose one would see in a movie. The flames soon dispersed, leaving the area as it was before the dragon unleashed his fury.
The roles they were playing also faded into the air. Shortly after, they stood up as normal. "That was amazing," BMO said smiling. "I told you that I'm good as a dragon," Red said. He returned the friendly gesture with his own polite, but still cocky smile. At that point, BMO forgot that the illusion it placed Football under was being threatened. Seeing that BMO was finally starting to let its guard down, Football knew that it was time to strike.
"Hey, Red." With those words, the blade made its way through the curtain, revealing the sunlight of truth. BMO tried to interrupt Football, but she counter-interrupted the robot with a swift, "Shut up, BMO."
To BMO, Football stood confidently and faced Red. However, to Red, it appeared that only BMO was talking. Red laughed at this and figured that, whatever question, it would be worth listening to.
"This bore thinks that every living person knows how to have 'proper etiquette.'" Football was pointing at the embarrassed robot. "So, tell me Red, does a real boy like you know how to act at a tea party?"
Red shrugged his shoulders. "I actually don't know. My folks never had time to teach me."
Football was at a point at a peak in her smug state. She put her hands on her supposed hips and looked at her counterpart with a mischievous grin. "Tsk. Tsk. Tsk," Football said. "Looks like little BMO mislead me." She directed her attention from BMO to Red. "Well, if you never been to a tea party before, could you join us in one now? I've always wondered how others view it."
Red looked outside. He noticed that it wasn't raining as hard as before. It would still be a little while before the eye of the hurricane would approach. He thought if he left when it reached his present location, he would have enough dry time to get where he had to go. He went along with Football's idea to kill some time. However, as soon the tea party commenced, he immediately started to regret his decision. It was as if Football was trying to be as deliberately annoying as possible with the rules and regulations. What harm did it cause if his elbows sat on the table, or refused if his pinky finger refused to lift while he sipped?
But in terms of discomfort, Football herself seemed to be the self-appointed queen. Honestly, the more he saw BMO act as if there was another sentient robot in the mirror, the more the unsettling the whole situation became. At first, Red thought that Football was only an imaginary persona. Now that the two could be observed in a more slow-paced environment, BMO looked like it was taking Football's possible presence a little too seriously. Red had seen kids smaller than him play with imaginary friends, and no other imaginary friend argued as much as Football does with BMO. The two we're going back and forth about stuff that he found rather petty. The whole argument was tough to keep track of due to them sounding the same. Red stopped paying attention altogether when they reduced their word choices from legitimate-sounding claims to one-word rebuttals that only a child would use, such as "butthead" and "meanie." Suffice to say, Red wanted to get up and leave the two to their own quarrel. He figured that he stayed to long, they would try to pressure him into taking a side. The conflict at hand just didn't seemed to interest him that much.
"Red!" BMO said. A lot of anger was put into saying that name. To calm the tension building up inside its emotional circuit boards, it let out a sigh. "I need to get more sugar," lied the robot. BMO grabbed a nearby picture frame. "Make sure Football stays still." The mirror was hosted on the frame. The thing itself was shaky. Red had to help the robot to make sure the mirror wouldn't slip off. Since the mirror was much larger than the picture frame, this proved to be difficult. They finally got it to stay still and promised each other not touch the thing in the slightest. BMO carefully got off the table and made its way to the kitchen.
Waiting for more frustration was a rather boring and pointless task. The girl was no longer in the mirror. The only thing he saw was an almost clear reflection of himself. The mirror had a few scratched spots and a crack at the edge, but it didn't hinder the image of himself. Red got bored looking at himself, so he checked the weather. With rain pouring down at an even faster rate, he became annoyed. He was growing impatient with the rain and needed some sort of stimulation. Since "Football" seemed hellbent on making sit through a tedious tea party, his options for getting it were limited. The first thing that came to mind was the act of killing Football.
Red thought about what BMO's reaction would be. Seeing the robot scramble at such a surprise was a sight he thought worthy to behold. Considering the robot's puny strength relative to anyone he has ever known, he thought it would be inevitable for it to become a punching bag one day. Since he viewed himself as a catalyst for inevitable events, Red felt justified and tiptoed his way to the other side of the table, making sure that BMO didn't see the act. Red held back the energy in his pointer finger with his thumb. He smiled at his reflection and unleashed a flick near the top of the mirror.
However, something prevented him from fully listening to the satisfying thud when hit the ground. Upon the action, he heard the faint sound of footsteps coming from the entrance, which was followed by a short gust of wind. Feeling as though a potential threat was behind him, his first instinct was to jump out the window, since there were no obvious good spots to hide in. Of course, the resulting fall was unfortunate. Landing in the mud was enough to soil the results of his shower, but at least he was less dirty than when he arrived. He took shelter by the tree's trunks; there, he was somewhat protected by the canopy and main body of the tree. He missed the warmth of the inside. But, it had to be sacrificed to reduce risk of getting killed. He listened closely, wanting to hear the unfamiliar individuals before closing in on them. If they had shown any signs of malintent, Red would make a run for it.
There were two voices. The first one sound like a man in his late twenties. Nothing seemed alarming about him. The second one, however, caught his attention. He tried listening to the conversation that soon commenced, but the noise from the storm overshadowed it. The only thing Red could understand was that they were tired. He sat there for about twenty minutes. Soon, he couldn't hear anything from inside.
Without any sound coming from the interior, Red figured he was safe to enter the house again. Even though he missed the warmth, he realized that his priority was to retrieve his possession and clothes. He couldn't stand being in those shorts anymore; they left his legs exposed to the cold for too long. As he snuck in through the front door, he remembered that his clothes must've still been wet from leaving them in the bathtub to wash away the grime. He wished he just left his outfit dirty, then he would have less of an issue going out. He was silent as he made his way to the bathroom. It appears one of inconvenience was traded for another; he saw two brothers lumped on the couch, sleeping. No doubt, they were the source of the voices he heard earlier. He would only have to worry about one individual seeing him. As much as Red wanted to know more about the brothers, he knew he needed to focus on his objective.
The light was turned off in the bathroom. When he flicked the switch to make things visible, he noticed his outfit was missing. Thankfully, his wrapped possession was untouched. The bathtub had been drained of all the water the clothes sat in. Upon further inspection, he noticed that some of the grime and soap bubbles had been left behind. He turned the light back off. To hinder their sight if they woke up, Red also dimmed the lights in the living room. He heard the sound hot metal makes when it hits a wet surface. Red saw a cloud of steam coming from the kitchen.
Curious as to what was going on, he crawled to the kitchen. He couldn't make it without cutting himself a few times on the near-invisible mirror shards. Going around the field of broken glass he created, Red was almost brought to cursing several times. The only source of light in the kitchen, besides the windows, was a candle. Its illumination of the room was dim, but what was occurring. BMO was on counter, focusing its attention on a board. In the robot's hand, there was a clothes iron. BMO was pushing around the iron, creating more steam from the what the metal was touching.
There was one moment when Red could get a glimpse of BMO's face. The robot didn't have actual eyes, but it eyes still managed to seemed forcefully opened in shock. Under its eyes was a simple but powerful frown. BMO looked at Red and continued what it was doing. He got up and returned a look at the robot. For a minute, neither spoke. Red was just observing while BMO ignored everything to continue ironing. At one point, BMO stopped, felt the clothes, and folded them up.
"These are yours," said BMO. It handed the clothes to Red.
Red didn't recognize his clothes in this lighting, but as he unfolded his plaid shirt, he was happy with what BMO had done to it. Putting a blazing hot iron on wet clothes probably wasn't a good idea, but BMO made it work. A few holes here and there were the only remaining blemishes the shirt. The fabric held a welcoming warmth to it, making him quite eager to put it on. "Thanks," he said. His level of enthusiasm was the opposite of BMO's. Such a brief and laidback display of thankfulness was too much for the robot. Such behavior seemed to remind BMO about Football. This, of course, was too much to tolerate due to the circumstances. There was another stretch of silence.
"She's dead," said BMO. The robot started to tremble. "I don't understand. Why?"
Red stood firm, preparing to face accusations. He stared at BMO with an unreadable expression. Surely enough, the robot was not in the emotional state to take revenge on Football's murder. Probably more suited were the other residents. Just in case, he did intend on whacking BMO if he was exposed to them. It was a shame, considering that tidying up his clothes gave him slight sympathy for the thing he towered over. Red went to the drawer the find some tape in attempt to mend the mirror.
BMO spoke. "That won't work. Tape can put together a corpse, but resurrection is impossible." These words made Red shut the drawer and look back the robot. "I'm an idiot!" BMO started to break down. "I should have known Football would move!"
Those words trailed up Red's spine. It appeared to him that BMO didn't suspect Red at all. He wondered if it was just the sudden death of its friend that made the thing think irrationally, which could result in that assumption. However, he did remember how easily the mirror teetered. When he thought about that, it made a lot more since to him. The was nothing to lose if he kept up the act, so he played along with how BMO viewed him. "So, Football can't be revived?" Red asked. "Are you sure about that?"
The tears on BMO's screen seized to be when Red uttered those words. BMO, willing to listen to any sort of hope, was willing to listen to Red. "You can't just bring someone back to life. Finn and Jake tried it once, and they almost died.
Red shook his head. "Did they try going to Sanctuary?"
"What?" BMO asked in confusion. "I never heard of Sanctuary. I'm sure Finn and Jake never went there."
Now, Red was confused. Before then, Red had never known anyone who hasn't heard of that place. However, what he didn't know, is that nobody within a hundred miles would understand what he was talking about. Red was at least able to feel proud about having to explain what Sanctuary had to offer.
"I see your uneducated about the great Sanctuary," Red said. He begun to change out of Finn's outfit. "It is a place that bridges that gap between the afterlife and the land of the living. If we visit, there could be a way to get your friend's soul back." The last part was a lie. Red knew that since Football wasn't a real person, it would be impossible for her to have a soul. Nevertheless, BMO thought that there was some truth in what he said. In all honesty, who wouldn't want to resurrect their recently deceased friend?
BMO jumped. "Then we must get there, now!" Shouted the robot.
Red shushed the robot. "Hey, take it easy. We wouldn't want to disturb your friend's sleep, right? Anyways, unlike the living, Football is made of glass and metal, like you. There's no rush. If we bring her remains, she'll be fine."
BMO sad expression returned. "But I can't go with you," said BMO. "They don't believe that Football is real. I'm sure they'd just drag me back home. And I hate you inform you of this, but I'm not as strong as Football." Never has BMO felt so incompetent and weak. The robot always perceived itself as the weaker of the two.
Red sighed. That would mean that he'd have to do it himself. He unwrapped the clothed item, unveiling a sword that reflected the candle's light. Engraved in the sword was the word: Human. Red sat his weapon down and used the cloth to gather the glass shards. "Don't worry," Red said. "I can handle this myself."
"Wait," said BMO. "I hardly know you. How can I even trust you with something this major?"
Red, fully dressed in his shirt and jeans, stood there with his sword in one hand and the shards in another. His body glowed within the orange candle light. After a second, he gave a smile. BMO didn't know if was its own desperation that saw this, but his smile seemed to carry some sincerity. But the robot, ignoring whatever logical doubt it had, followed its desire to believe Red.
"Don't worry, I'll come back periodically to show that I won't forget," he said. "In fact, when I find the place, I'll show you for yourself. I think you'll like it there; the inside of sanctuary is like its own little realm. I dare say it's a paradise, dictated by pure imagination and holy energy." BMO still looked doubtful. The robot paced around the room trying to make sense of the situation. As much as BMO wanted to find another way, it had to realize that this only option. BMO tried to stand confident despite its limitations and looked Red in the eye.
"Do you promise?" asked BMO.
"I promise," said Red. He vanished into the darkness.