Chapter 28: Death and Taxes

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"Do you know where all the new objects came from?" Coiny asked while kicking a Bubbly Pop can down the sidewalk.

"Hmm?"

"You know, the ones that entered last night with Pencil. Golf Ball clearly didn't ask them to come, and I don't think Pencil did either."

"Oh, that!" Needle realized. "I remember seeing Pen making a few phone calls while Pencil was out. Could explain why Eraser, Blocky, and Snowball were there. As for Leafy's bunch, I really don't know."

Coiny kicked the can especially hard, sending it straight into an open sewer drain. "Darn. Anyways, I'm glad Snowball is here. He's a cool guy."

Needle scoffed, "Yeah right. Did you see how he treated Golf Ball yesterday? Not to mention- Wait, you meant 'cool' as in a literal sense, didn't you?"

"Heh, good one. But honestly, Snowball's a good guy. He just doesn't like to be called weak, or feel bossed around...or really anything that involves demoralizing his self-confidence."

Yeah, like accepting to go out on a date with him then having lunch with someone else, Needle thought to herself. She wondered if Snowball was still bitter about that.

"Anyways, what did GB ask for? Scientific parts?" Coiny's gaze fell onto a new discarded drink can—tucked away behind a storefront.

She shook the thoughts from her head. "I think so. Do you know where we can find any?"

"Now that you mention it," the copper cent said, "I think I might know a place."

<=======>

"Remind me to never take one of your suggestions again."

A few blocks of walking later, the pair arrived in the shadow of that one skyscraper that she was all too familiar with—Yoyleberries United. Her insides twisted into a pretzel.

"Come on," he reasoned, "it can't be that bad! I mean, it's Yoyleberries freaking United! There's got to be, like, a gazillion science-y things in there!"

Needle scowled. "It's an office building, not a science museum. Plus, don't you remember how much I hate this place?"

He stared at her with a blank expression, as if considering the consequences of such an action for the first time. However, Coiny's flashy smile quickly came back. "If I remember correctly," he replied in a smart-aleck voice, "it's your dad that you have a problem with. Not this building."

"And what difference does that make?"

"Dunno. If you want, you could wait out here and I'll go inside for a quick peek," Coiny negotiated.

Needle sighed. As much as she hated Mr. Needy and the business empire he had built, an ember of curiosity still burned within her. There was so much that she simply did not know about the company, be it from not wanting to know or her father never telling her. Mostly the latter. In his words, 'A young lady has no use in learning the intricacies of business.' Needle had never even stepped foot into the corporate HQ, nonetheless visit the office of Mr. Needy.

"No," she reconsidered, "I'm coming with you."

"Whatever you say, Miss Needy- er, Needle." Coiny opened the door, making a big show of it like a hotel valet. "Lead the way."

To her surprise, the inside was still fully powered. But it was evident that the objects who once came and went had left in a panic. Documents and file folders blanketed the floor in such abundance that Needle couldn't take a single step without crushing a Cease and Desist or tax return with her feet. A handset had been left disconnected from its seat; it beeped annoyingly. A mug had shattered in the middle of the reception room—its contents soaked into the sea of legal papers.

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