"But is it really stealing if we're stealing it back?" Red continued.
"No, it's still stealing, but it was ours in the first place, so it's justified," Green said, with perfect confidence.
"Circumstances being what they are, it's not stealing," Yellow joined in, "But there's a very thin line between stealing and… what we're doing."
Dennis listened to the exchange with a smile. He didn't really have anything to add. As they walked down the hall on the way to the lab, he didn't say a word. There was nothing to say. He only wanted to observe and admire. Dennis couldn't understand how they remained so calm. They must've done this a bazillion times before. Justified or not, stealing or permanently borrowing, Dennis had never taken anything that wasn't his. He wouldn't be able to do it alone. But he wasn't alone. He had six highly-trained stick figures by his side. They knew what they were doing. Their very presence was reassuring. It was a sign that everything would turn out all right.
All they had to do was retrieve the pencil and find Chosen. This was no longer an impossible task. It wouldn't be a cakewalk, either, but at least it was achievable. It was nearly 10:00 P.M., but no one would come in until 6:00 A.M. They could find Chosen in that amount of time. Then, they could leave this horrible place forever.
It was only yesterday that he had entered the doors, eager and hopeful. His first job ever… and he blew it after two days. He hardly had time to process it all; things were moving so fast. The thought of leaving would've made him indignant mere days ago. Now, nothing seemed more desirable.
Then they arrived. The doorway to the laboratory was right there, beckoning to him. This was going to be his future. His lifelong dream. Dennis paused for a moment. Something, an emotion that he couldn't name, was stirring up inside of him. He needed a second.
"This is it," Dennis said, looking back at Orange and his friends, "They keep the pencil on that shelf over there in the briefcase."
Purple popped open the briefcase and picked up the pencil. "And the lab rats really couldn't figure out how to use it?"
"Well, they figured out how to draw things, but couldn't create life," Dennis said.
Orange laughed softly. "Yeah, it's not quite as easy as it seems."
"Guys, come look at this!" Yellow called from the next room.
They followed him. The room was filled with filing cabinets and metal briefcases; stacks and stacks of briefcases. Briefcases that were identical to the one that held the pencil.
"Animation tech?" Blue asked.
"Probably," Dennis said, stepping forward. His curiosity couldn't handle such a temptation, and he found himself clicking one of the briefcases open before really realizing it.
Inside, there was a dotted rectangle and a computer mouse, connected, yet separate. Dennis held it up to his friends. "Anyone recognize this?"
"It's an Animate free transform tool," Orange said, "Used to manipulate the size and rotation of an object."
Red, having opened a briefcase of his own, spun around with a cry of, "Heeya!" He threw a small device at Green. It hit him in the back of the head, and bounced away.
Dennis expected him to react in disapproval. Instead, Green froze in place. His body was stiff, his face was unamused, but more importantly, he was utterly and completely still. Red looked at him for a moment, only mildly concerned. Purple waved his hand over Green's eyes. Green's expression didn't change, but Purple's eyes widened with amazement. "Um… hello?" Purple said.
"Not again…" Yellow said, groaning.
"What did you throw?" Orange asked.
Red held up the devices in his hands and shrugged. "He's fine… probably."
"Pause buttons," Orange said. He shivered, almost imperceptibly. "Throw him another one."
Red obeyed. Green came back to life, shooting Red an annoyed look. "Hilarious. Now can we get back to business?"
"It wouldn't have killed to wait a few miuntes before unpausing him." Red grumbled.
"Before what?" Green said, feigning anger to hide his own curiosity.
"Nothing," he said, before whispering to Dennis, "Here, take some. You might need it later."
Dennis obeyed and slipped two pause buttons into his pocket. It didn't occur to him at the moment that he was stealing. In the excitement, he had forgotten entirely, considering nothing but the fact that Red was offering him an advantage. There might be some form of conflict yet, and if there were, Dennis would need every advantage possible. He wasn't a fighter, and if he had to take part in a fight, he'd give it his all, but emotion can only carry you so far. He didn't have brute strength or delicately trained skills. He'd need a leg up if he wanted to contribute.
"Green's right. We still need to find Chosen. And in this place… it could take all night." Orange said, "Dennis, do you know where Vic's office is?"
Dennis nodded. Mr. Victim had been toying with Chosen personally. It was possible that his office might contain some clue as to where Chosen was being held. Highly improbable, but at this point, they needed all the help they could get.
"Okay. Dennis, Green, Red and I will go into the office and search the second floor rooms. Purple, Blue, and Yellow, search the first floor. Leave no metaphorical stone unturned. We'll meet in the warehouse in three hours." Orange said, with a commanding air.
Everyone nodded, and grouped themselves accordingly. While Red, Green, and Orange started discussing the plan with hope, Purple approached Dennis.
"So what's next?" he said.
"Well, Orange says I'm going to lead him to Mr. Victim's office and do some snooping. And you're looking for The Chosen One, if I understood correctly." Dennis answered.
Purple smiled. "I mean, after this is over. Going home, getting some sleep, and then what? Orange said that you worked here. I think it's a safe bet that you'll be fired for this. What then?"
Dennis's face clouded. "I don't know. I've kinda been working towards this for my entire life. Never meet your heroes, huh?"
"Yeah, they might turn out to be psychopath torturers. I'm pretty sure that's how the saying goes. Anyway, my father… My father owns a diner, and he was talking about wanting some help the other day, and I can't cook to save my life… Well, I was wondering if you'd be interested. I could talk to him tomorrow morning if you want." Purple said.
Dennis couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had to fight, beg, and plead for this position. He hadn't even been fired, and another position was just going to be… given to him? Just like that? His mother was an ingenius connoisseur of delicious flavors, and while he didn't cook much, he enjoyed it, and did it well. In any case, he could learn the recipes. It didn't really matter what the work really was, after all. That he was given an opportunity at all was too good to be true. The words to describe his appreciation were hard to come by. He hoped that his gentle grin and eager eyes displayed his gratitude better than his words did.
"I'd– I'd love that. Thank you."
"No problem." Purple said, turning to Yellow and Blue.
"Speaking of the King, how did you convince him to let you come?" Yellow asked.
"He doesn't want you to call him that. And… I have my ways." Purple said.
"What ways?" Yellow persisted.
"I told him the truth. He said he had some things to take care of first. I don't know when he'll get here, but it shouldn't be long now."
"In that case," Dennis said, "I look forward to meeting him."
Purple nodded in acknowledgment and then disappeared down the hallway with Yellow and Blue behind him. Dennis looked over to Orange, Red, and Green, and Orange motioned for him to follow. Enough dawdling. It was time to get to work.