It took a moment for Fries to recognize that he was now very quickly plummeting towards his inevitable demise; once he did, all he cared about was ensuring his potato passengers were there with him for the journey.
The whole thing was one big joke whose punchline had now finally arrived after a long, drawn-out sequence. One day, one *very* miserable day, he decided that he had enough of his team lacking any sort of direction or guidance. He had spent such a long time demanding it himself, constantly reminding the others that *someone* has to be in charge, lest everyone ended up driving themselves into a catastrophe of untold proportions. But given that they ended up on a winning streak for *quite* a while, nobody took him seriously; now that they've actually lost, they were so overly confident in their ability that they had deluded themselves into thinking that this was just some fluke, that they'll weather this little mishap and do just fine. But how can they *possibly* know that for certain? How can they know what that algebralian has in store for them every single day? How can they be sure about *anything*? Ugh.
Fries shook his head (well, he tried his best to while being constantly subjected to the force of gravity), trying his hardest to think of something, *anything* else. Even though he has quite a few complaints regarding the team he ended up with, it *was* still his team. This didn't seem to be like the previous season, where the rules themselves dictate that they can change around on a whim. No, they were as fixed as the stars in the sky, the trees on the ground, the misery and depression on *every* single day. There's no changing it, so there's no use in complaining about it. But still, is it a crime to yearn for things to have gone a bit differently? The container of food, with nothing but complete darkness surrounding him, was hard-pressed to find some other subject to contemplate on. Well, since his death was fast approaching, it felt natural to think about life. How he always seemed to make the wrong decisions throughout, and how he ended up right here. Right now.
How did he get here? How did *they* get here?
Fries was, presumably, created out of the Earth just like everyone else (allegedly) at some point in time. Living objects don't just... pop into existence. They had to be created, most likely as some cruel joke or trick pulled by forces beyond their comprehension. He was born, he adjusted to his new surroundings, and he learned most of the things he now knew about the world today. Then one day, one *very* dreadful day, a speaker box came knocking and asked for potential newbies for his Battle for Dream Island.
Now that he thought about it, *that* was where the joke began.
He couldn't remember for the life of him what exactly compelled him to sign up for BFDI; he'd spent so many years focused on it since then that any memories of his past life were erased long ago. Maybe things weren't so good back at home, wherever it was, or maybe he just wanted to get a taste of the thing, see how it felt. Regardless, he went ahead and joined in, and for his determination, he was rewarded with... being stuck in a metal box for the rest of eternity. What felt like eternity, anyway. Surrounded by people he either didn't know or didn't like, having little to no room for himself, constantly swatting away arms looking for sustenance, unable to find relief or escape. Fun times, those were. *Very* fun times.
Then, through some sheer miracle, he ended up being let out; by random chance, by fluke, he was chosen to compete in the second season of BFDI. Really, that should've been a blessing. That was the whole reason he had been stuck in this predicament in the first place, and now he finally got to compete. But after having spent so much time in that unholy prison, he just... couldn't. He hated his fellow newbies, the ones he had already been stuck with for such a long time. He hated the veterans, whose freedom (relatively) speaking he secretly despised. He hated the thought of, after spending such a long time being immobile, having to actively work and compete, lest he return to that horrific prison. He hated all of it.
