Floor leads all the remaining transfers on a quick tour around the headquarters. I guess I never thought about what Dustless would look like, it's very dark, but it has a light feel to it hidden behind all the dust. After explaining the millions of rooms he leads us to... the chasm. It's about a 20 foot drop straight down into a rushing river. Only guarded by a few rails. It looks harmless. Nothing compared to what I jumped off earlier.

"You think it looks harmless?" Floor asks in his deep young voice. I laugh. He chuckles too. A nice gentle laugh.

"Just wait" he says. He draws a small bar of soap from his jacket pocket.

"See this?" he asks. I nod. Bathnegation style soap, about 3 by 2 inches, lemon flavored? It's a pretty nice mold. With that, he tosses it over the rail with a gentle flick of his wrist. The soap barley hits the water before it explodes. A few people gasp. It's definitely not water.

"It's all the waste from malfunctioning soap products. All the chemicals build up, combined with the speed, it's a pretty deadly mix. C'mon," he says. "We're going to start training in the morning. Better get some rest."

•••

The next morning comes faster than I even fell asleep. I could barely fall asleep anyways listen to the soft cries of Ble (pronounced like bull, bub-ble). Nobody knows really much about Ble. I thought he was a big tough Dustless, I guess not. I wake up and start to put on some clothes that the Dustless provided. A skin tight black t shirt and some combat pants and boots. I squeeze it all on.

"Wow! Where'd my Bathnegation Buddy go?" Pristina says "Aren't you going to wash your hands?" I stare, shocked.

"You know we're allowed to wash our hands, whenever we want?" She says. I smile. This is amazing. Whenever we want? I look at my hands. They could use a quick touch up after all that dust yesterday. She shakes her head.

"Sometimes you really do act like a Stain," she says.

"Ha Ha," I say sarcastically. Then I find the sink. Warm cool water finds it way into all the cracks of my scratched hands. I love it. The soap here is also fantastic. It comes out of a dispenser! Not a bar! A dispenser! I dry my fresh hands and return to my bed.

Somebody has put graffitied my covers. There's a splotch of brown paint all over the covers. A Stain. Greaser! He now has a little posse to do the messy work for him. Greaser and Grubby, a giant transfer, who you do not want to be on the bad side of stare at me. Grubby, laughs at me as she twirls her knotted mass of hair. I ignore them. This is a competiton. I am here to win. Not to make friends. I fold the blanket and stuff it into the trash can.

•••

Training. The worst word I ever heard. One of our trainers, Eric, says it like it's no big deal.

"OK, we've partnered you up randomly. To some uh... regular tasks." he says "Dusters have to be brave, strong, fearless. If anybody feels they're not? Get out. OK? Nobody? Let's continue. There's some basic shall we say, skills, to becoming a duster. You don't just dust the corners, the top of tables, no, here we have provided some everyday objects that could use a little touch up. First one in the pair to dust effectively and fast wins. The other one is a loser. Yeah, this isn't Laundrity anymore, if you don't do well, you're a loser. Questions?" Floor steps up.

"OK umm... lets' have Pristina and Grubby, Greaser and Well, Bubble, I mean Ble and Tide-" the list goes on, but my heart stops. Ble and Tide. Tide and Ble. No way. Ble is big and strong, I am small, a Stain! Pristina nudges me. I give her a look of sympathy. Having to battle Ble is bad, but no match for Grubby. The meanest, scariest, biggest looking girl you'll ever see. I turn to Ble.

"Please don't kill me!" I ask. He smiles.

"I won't," he says. We all sit around the edge of a small dark room. There's a lit square in the middle where we are supposed to Dust Battle.

"First pair, ah let's take Greaser and Well." Floor says. Greaser stands up, cracks his knuckles and winks an Grubby. Well stands up too. He's a small kid. From Cleandor maybe? Pristina and Well obviously know each other, so my guess is he's from Cleandor too. They are each given there own duster. Nothing fancy. A G-64 dust-o-matic for each. Greaser has brought his own. He pulls a foldable duster out of his pocket. The latest model of Z-84 dust-monster. It snaps to full length, about 3 feet long. He pulls out the extension which brings it to about 6 or 7 feet. Well is dead. The ceiling opens and a chandelier emerges.

"The person who uses the best dusting technique wins," said Floor. Greaser reaches up to start dusting. Well jumps up, but he simply bounces off Greaser.

"Dude, just back off," says Greaser. Well frowns.

"Not without a fight." He punches Greaser as hard as his little fists allow him to. With one swift motion Greaser knocks Well to the ground. Well clutches his rib cage and groans. Dust falls in a perfect circle around Greaser. He's using a nice technique. Less motions, more power. He's almost done when Well stands up suddenly and charges at him. Thinking he's won, Greaser let's Well try, but this time, Well uses his G-64 to crack Greaser in the head. Greaser falls with a thud that almost shakes the room. Well smiles, and quickly reaches for the chandelier. It's too tall for him, so he starts to blow on it and fan it with the duster. His technique isn't the most effective, but it's working. Well has a chance! Pristina smiles. His victory is short as Greaser gathers himself and stands up. Picks Well up by his collar and slams him into the ground. I close my eyes. Greaser finishes the dusting job, and wins.

"Greaser wins," Floor says. There's a hint of disappointment in his voice. He was rooting for Well. "Alright, Pristiana and Grubby, let's go."

Pristina groans and goes to the floor. Grubby stands up too. Her shadow blocks most of the light in the room. Their new dusting challenge begins. A table. Nothing fancy. Grubby has her own duster. A Z-81 dust-monster. Not as fancy as Greaser's but it sure beats Pristina's H-33. Grubby laughs at Pristina's wimpy duster. She knocks Pristina to the side to start dusting. Pristina ducks and Grubby stumbles forward, giving Pristina a few seconds to show off her skills. She dusts slowly, but with a rhythm, unfortunately her rhythm get's off beat as Grubby knocks her to the ground. Pristina kicks at Grubby's ankles, but Grubby just gives Pristina a swift kick in the ribs. She gasps, but Grubby won't stop. She has a smile spreading over her face as she multi-tasks, kicking Pristina and dusting. Pristina rolls over. Bad move. Grubby's size 12 boot hits her square in the face. Blood starts to pour from her nose and a few tears well up in her eyes.

"Stop!" she says barely above a whisper.

"Oh I didn't hear you Squirt! You give up? I thought so!" Grubby laughs. Eric's eyes widen.

"You give up?" he says. "Come with me. It's time for you to learn a lesson"