Grassy was minding his own business when Golf Ball abducted him.
It was just a little while after the latest episode, after that latest bout of competition where several dozen contestants are forced to fight against each other for the same of some intangible prize. They were all tired out, they were all exhausted, and there was nothing they would like more than to finally relax, unwind, and just do whatever they want without some algebralian forcing them to do whatever they desired.
Everyone had their own way of having fun, to pass the time in-between all these horrific incidents. Some decided to exercise, to better their skills and prepare themselves for whatever else may come their way; those numbers sure do love their curveballs, after all. Some would go to their friends, whether or not they were in different teams, and would talk to them about what's been going on. Maybe they'll talk about what they just went through, or how things are going with their teammates, or maybe just whatever topic of conversation they happened to come across in the back of their heads. Anything and everything so they can keep on talking, so that maybe, just maybe, they can forget about all this pain and misery for at least a little while. For those that don't have the luxury of having someone they can rest and rely on in these trying times, nor do they have the common sense to ready themselves for the times ahead, perhaps they'd just cause some mischief. Pull a prank or two on an unsuspecting fellow, rile them up, have some fun at their expense. Maybe they'll spy on them and figure out what they're up to, and maybe plan their maneuvers around that. Maybe they'll just keep to themselves, indulge in their hobbies and own ways of keeping fear at bay.
Or maybe they'll just sit down and enjoy life. That too.
For those that were green, natural, and growing from the ground, they needed at least a *bit* of time every day where they can just lie down and soak in all the sunlight they can. While living objects such as them don't really need much food or sustenance to do anything, only requiring to feast once every 2,763 years or so, that little boost of energy that comes from photosynthesis could *just* maybe make all the difference between winning and losing. It's also an important affair for other reasons; the whole mystery regarding how objects work remains as enigmatic as it was from day one, but people are *fairly* certain that they require oxygen to breathe. Maybe. Sometimes. It's complicated. The kind of photosynthesis they get up to does exactly that. It doesn't amount to much, especially when you ultimately look at *everything* that goes on the Earth, but as previously mentioned, every little bit counts. It especially helps Leafy sleep at night, knowing that there's always *something* she can say to claim that she's been a nice, helpful gal.
Grassy was doing exactly that, metaphorically sinking into the ground from which he came, immersing himself within his countless (relatively) lifeless brethren, and doing exactly what he was made to do. Take in sunlight, convert that sunlight using a number of chemical processes that are most likely beyond anyone's head, use the energy that results to make oxygen, then let that precious air out into the open for anyone and everyone to enjoy. And he does it all for *free*, too. He's a simple sort of guy, and he doesn't look for any wealth or silly stuff like that. All he needs, as he has mentioned many times before, is respect. Grass, according to those balls that claim to be intelligent, is one of the most prevalent things out there in the world, and they're out there producing the oxygen everyone so desperately needs without any compensation. It's a thankless job, even though all life on this sad little rock relies on it to do *anything*. And yet they all go about minding their own business, oftentimes stepping on his many cousins like it was no big deal. What's the deal? Where's the sympathy? Where's the *respect*?
And that's when Golf Ball took him.
"What are you doing?" Grassy started panicking; despite Golf Ball just *barely* dragging him by the arm with one leg, having to hop with the other to take him even the tiniest distance, he just didn't feel like breaking himself out. "Grassy needs to-" "Yeah, yeah, I know." The team tyrant scoffed. "You need respect. Hey, you want respect? If you come with me, maybe I'll actually show some." "Hmph." The collection of blades of grass folded his arms, only further securing GB's grip on him. "Seriously. This is serious." She'd continue on with her ramblings. "I need to tell you about all that's been going on here, why it's important that everything goes according to plan. *My* plan." Grassy was obviously reluctant to go along with this, but the allure of finally getting respected by that grumpy sphere seemed to keep his attention. He'd allow himself to be dragged along the plains, going on a great adventure all the way to Golf Ball's underground factory.
