Bendy and the Ink Machine: Who's Laughing Now?

1

"There's the dead Terrier again." I'd said as my Mom drove to the film studio to drop me off so I could deliver their art supplies. "And there's that moaning again," she replied "Keep it up and you're delivering those supplies on foot." My Mom knew how to get me to shut up when she wanted. It was just one of her many talents. I only had one talent. Writing. But I couldn't find anywhere that would publish any of my stories. In the end, I'd ended up working for Mom's boss, Mr Spindler, who sold art supplies. He was somehow very high up in the business industry when most people in New York aren't that interested in art.

"We're here." I hadn't even realized. I was so caught up in my thoughts to notice. "Well, are you getting out or not?"
"Yes, Mom, I'm getting out." The only reason I'd agreed to deliver for Mr Spindler's company is that it meant I could get away from my miserable old bat of a mother for a little while.

I got out of the car and entered the studio which was strangely brighter than outside with its lights off. "What are you here for kid?" I jumped. There was a lady sitting at a desk just out of view from the entrance. At first, it hadn't seemed like there was anyone in this room with me. "Well? I haven't got all day." to be honest, she probably did ."I have some, uh, art supplies for Mister Joey Drew?" For a moment she looked away as if she was talking to some invisible person behind her. I wonder what she's looking at? "He's on Level A, for administration."

I said my thanks and got in the elevator, feeling a little out of place from the other people in there. They all obviously worked here. "So who are you then?" Asked the man to my left. He was tall and looked disgruntled, and honestly a little intimidating. "I'm Peter," I told him "I'm just delivering some art supplies to Mister Joey Drew"
"Right," He replied. I'd expected him to say more but it seemed like he wasn't much of a talker. When the elevator stopped I was in a huge foyer with some people I guess waiting to see Mister Drew. I walked up to the desk, "I have some art supplies for-"
"Down the hall and to the right." Said the man behind the counter. I turned away and started walking the way he'd said. As I walked many faces looked up at me, clearly annoyed that I'd taken their place in line. Joey's office was pretty far from the foyer, and took what felt like forever to get there. By the time I got there, I was so exhausted and sweaty that the supplies box slipped from my fingers and landed with a thud. And, to make it worse, it landed right in front of Mister Joey Drew's door. "Right," He yelled, storming out of his office. "Who's making all that racket?"
"Sorry sir," I'd said, "I just dropped the art supplies for a Mister Joey Drew." He looked at me confused and then, as he remembered, started to smile. "Ah! So you're the art supply guy!" He exclaimed. "Come on in. You can put them on my desk."

I walked inside the fairly large office and put the box on the desk.
"Hey," Joey had said to me, "You a writer kid?"
I didn't even realize that you could tell what people's skills were by just looking at them. It sounded pretty ridiculous. Almost abnormal. 'Yeah, but I can't find anyone to publish my stories.' There was a long, awkward silence that filled the room. Dripping from the walls and ceiling like blood.
"Say," Mister Drew said breaking the silence, "how would you like to work for me- what's your name kid?"
"Uh, Peter. Peter Dolivo." I said. "Well Peter, you could work in the story department. That way, you'll be able to write stories for my cartoons and Bendy.