Chapter 3: Smoke, Cuts, and a Tube

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A puff of smoke exploded from a steampunk looking metal tank, engulfing the gray factory in a white haze. Red alarms and sirens broke the fog, revealing two familiar balls.

"*Cough* What the heck *ack* went wrong!?" Golf Ball hacked. "TB! How are things on your side?"

"*Hack* Not great!" he wheezed. " Does this place even have ventilation?"

Golf Ball felt slightly discouraged to do something so obvious, but not thought up by her. Nonetheless, she realized that if she didn't clear up the smoke quickly they'd both probably die. She quickly ran over to the control panel, and flipped open the clear, plastic cover. She slammed down the giant red button with a thunk, just as she passed out from asphyxia. 

<=======>

"What the..." GB said with a groan, then realized she was laying down on the cold, concrete floor. 

How did I end up here?  She pondered. Looking around her factory, and all the damaged equipment. Punctured holding tanks, busted pipes, empty rivet holes. The events of the previous hours came flooding back to her. Tennis Ball! She remembered, scanning the room in a panic. The fuzzy sport sphere was motionless on the ground.

No, no, no... Golf Ball worried. She rushed over to her friend, while trying to remember how to deal with smoke inhalation. A green tipped cylinder caught her eye. Oxygen! Right! Sighing a breath of relief, GB ran to find an oxygen mask and pressure adapter. Luckily, there was one, conveniently placed within sight. Just one small issue. It somehow was placed on a massive pillar of sheet metal and scrap.

Wasting no time, Golf Ball ran head first at the mountain, scaling it with the speed of an Olympic athlete. Just as she got near the top, a tiny hex nut popped out. The entire structure listed to one side, with the dimpled brainiac precariously hanging on for dear life. The tower wobbled for a bit, then eventually stabilizing itself. However, just as GB stood up, the mound shifted and came crashing down, creating a thunder-like sound that vibrated throughout the underground bunker.

A sharp pain hit her in the back, as the scent of blood wafted out. She felt a cut, but then noticed that the mask was right in front of her. Golf Ball snatched it up, and dashed over to her unconscious friend. At least, she hoped he was unconscious. 

Just when she was through with adjusting the strap, a groan pieced the silence. An uncomfortable feeling rippled through her, the feeling someone gets when they think somebody's behind them. She slowly turned her head, unsure of whatever was behind her.

"Boo!" A voice yelled. 

"AAAAHHHHH!" Golf Ball screamed, jumping back. "Whoever you are, come out this instant! I am not afraid of you!"

Nobody replied. An eerie chill went down her back, still bleeding from the fall earlier. Maybe I'm hallucinating from the blood loss, she imagined. She tried to get back to what she was doing earlier, and tightened the mask around TB's mouth, and then noticed he was smirking. She suddenly realized what had happened. 

"Very funny, Tennis Ball," she grumbled, giving him a small kick. Then grimaced from the cut on her back.

The lime ball finally got up, "You should've looked at your face! Was that not appropriate? I'm sorry GB. By the way, what was that lou- oh." He noticed the red splotches on his best friend's back, and the landslide of trash.

"I try to save your life, and you use the opportunity to play a prank?" Golf Ball yelled angrily.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know what happened. I was just awoken by a loud noise, and, yeah, you know what happened next. The least I could do now is get your back fixed up."

TB ran over to the first aid cabinet, and fished out some bandages and disinfectant wipes. He scurried back, and motioned for Golf Ball to roll onto her front. She grumbled, still angry, but complied.

"Oh, this isn't too bad, just a few cuts. Just need to clean it up a bit and you'll be good. This might sting a little, though." TB warned, tearing open an antiseptic towelette. 

The moist sheet contacted one of the abrasions, GB wincing from the sharp pain. Tennis Ball paused for a moment, sensing her distress, but she told him to carry through. Within a couple minutes he had managed to finish the job, leaving his coworker with some bandages across her backside.

"Thanks for that," she said, "sorry for yelling at you earlier."

"Well, I wasn't exactly the nicest person," he replied, putting on a slight smile.

"Eh, it's fine. But now we have to clean up all this mess!"

"Actually, maybe we should do that later. I mean, we've been down here for so long, studying dirt! How about we go to Leafy's for breakfast? My treat."

"Hey! The research I'm conducting is VERY important!" She sighed,  "But now that I think about it, breakfast does sound nice."

"I knew you'd agree. I'm going to get The Tube started up," He got of the floor, tripping on himself as he headed toward the cylindrical projection against the wall.

The Tube was one of Golf Ball's ideas, a way to link up the factory and the city in a quick and easy way (while being totally legal). TB entered the password, and the brass machine lit up with life. After a brief moment of powering up, the door slid open with a hiss, revealing a sleek pod with two seats.

"After you," Tennis Ball respectfully articulated, motioning for Golf Ball to enter.

The pod closed when TB entered, and they zoomed off into the heart of Yoyle City.







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