by Will Stanton » Mon Apr 09, 2018 7:36 pm
Will was bored.
He wouldn't admit it -- never. He never got bored down at the base. Even when days -- months, even -- would go by, unnoticed and unattended, he could stand it. Enjoyed it even.
That damn box, with all it's human needs and wants and desires, was wrecking him. No matter. He was resourceful. And clever. And, well, downright brilliant at times. It just required a bit of...re-ka-jiggering. Nothing he couldn't handle.
With that in mind, he crept out of the cabinet, looking to make sure no one was watching. People were afraid to get their hands dirty because of the arms and legs, right? Even plasticy and artificial looking, he reminded them to much of a person. I mean, Isolde had chosen an actual mop over him. A mop! He was worth less than just a regular, storebought mop. That hurt. That hurt right to the core. Instead, she used him as a glorified garbage can -- and not even intentionally, at that, but in some misguided attempt to feed him. Some 'pack' that was.
Headed for one of the communal showers, he spied someone's tube of toothpaste lying in a pile of bathing supplies. Perfect. Just what he needed.
Quickly unscrewing the cap, he squeezed the tube -- all of it -- straight into his own mouth, swishing it around. Baking soda. Peroxide. Flouride, he swallowed. A sub-par toothpaste for a sub-par mind.
He could do better.
Making sure the tube was empty -- or, well, mostly empty, he wasn't going to wash it out or anything -- he squeezed himself, headfirst, into the tube, squashing, squishing and shrinking to fit. There was a lot of Will and not a lot of tube, so even though he shrunk, he ended up filling to nearly overstuffed.
The tube sat on the bathing supplies, the only obvious sign that something was amiss being the cap. You can't put a cap back on from the inside!
((open))