--Bertha Oneshots--

Pressure, Comfort and Encouragement

"Come on, Roy! What is the hold up?!"

"I..I-I'm trying my best, Mr Duncan.." The young apprentice stated, and stared uneasily at Bertha's control panel. Roy had been asked by the manager to begin learning how to program Bertha a few days ago. This was so he can learn more about the position and become a fully qualified Machine Operator in the future. He is already an Assistant Machine Operator, having to be learning from under Ted's wing, however, Mr Duncan, the factory foreman, thinks he is working far too slowly and was eager to push the apprentice too far to the edge. Roy could feel his palms and forehead sweating due to the high demand, but tries to keep a straight face. Mr Duncan is in charge of the floor after all. He cannot disappoint him so quickly.

"Well, type something in! I'm waiting." The foreman reminded, taking a glance at his clipboard and writing something down. "If you really cared about work, you should've paid attention." Roy turned his head slowly back to Bertha's controls. Small screens, lots of tiny buttons, several switches - how on earth does Ted remember which part does which? It's seems complicated for a fifty year old machine. "Oh, this is just ridiculous." Nell groaned quietly to Flo, facepalming at the foreman's orders. "Did he honestly expect him to know what to do straight away?" Roy did not hear them, as his brain was trying to calculate what to do.

Right. Must input the right code in.

Wait.

What are the codes to program Bertha?

Maybe.. if he presses some buttons something will happen?

Maybe. Something good or bad, yet it's better to have a go with this tricky topic. Roy took a few deep breaths and tried to remember what each lever and button does. Mr Duncan observed closely, tapping his foot and taking a few glances on his pocket watch. He huffed at every second wasted. This is taking too much time, he muttered to himself. Finally, the young apprentice typed something into Bertha's computer system. The machine's computer runs completely on morse codes, which was something that Roy hasn't learnt yet and was most worried about. He tried not to pay attention to the foreman being close by and ignoring the strange sweating occurring on his body.

Roy pulled the lever and Bertha went to work straight away. Bertha beeped and squeaked and rotated her gears, doing the job that was required for her. The machine tried to smile at the job, but the fact that Roy was being pushed like that only made her feel tranquilly furious at the foreman.

At the conveyer belt, the lad timidly watched what Bertha is making. It doesn't take her long to do a task anyway; especially since she was tasked to create one prototype. In a few minutes, Bertha had finished and out on the conveyer came a pile of fabric and stuffing. A very big pile of stuffing with small sheets of fabric.

Nell and Flo both exchange empathetic glances and tried to point out the positives. The teddy bear they were supposed to manufacture into lots looked nothing like a teddy bear. "..At least it's the correct amount of stuffing?" Flo pointed out, trying to cheer up Roy. TOM of course didn't know what a teddy bear looked like and thought it was done correctly. Mr Duncan wasn't at all happy, gripping onto TOM's head to prevent him from taking the destroyed bear away. "Two minutes and thirty two seconds and THAT is what you made her do?!" He sternly called out to the young lad. Roy did not answer but fidgeted with his hands. He felt like this was his fault. "This is NOT good enough!! Time is money! You should've programmed her properly!!" Mr Duncan shouted out, raising his voice.

Roy cowered by the yelling, feeling trapped. Maybe it is his fault. I mean, he did program her after all. That just made him feel worse. Nell decided to step in, seeing the fear in Roy. "Mr Duncan, don't you think you are being too harsh on Roy?" she asked the foreman. "Yes." Flo answered back. "He only started learning Bertha's programming about three days ago. Not to mention he has special needs." Mr Duncan turned to the pair, brushing his moustache with his finger. "That is not an excuse! Why, if I was an Assistant Machine Operator, I would've done my job properly as I should." Mr Duncan retorted. "Not form some daft friendship with an old piece of machinery and sleep on the job!"