Golf Ball was once again busily working at her Factory, far from anyone's thoughts or considerations.
Once again, for the 2,763rd time, CloudYAY was proving to be a real pain to manage, a whole bunch of good-for-nothing 'teammates' that'd rather wallow in their pit of shame for the rest of time than listen to her for even *one* second. It's the same old story, the same trope that's been done to death at least twice over by then. She comes up with an idea for something, *anything*, and they soundly reject it solely because it came out of *her* mouth, rather than literally anyone else's. She's even documented a case or two where she comes up with something, they unanimously reject it, then they *suddenly* come up with the exact same idea on their own, and this time around it's supported almost immediately. How ridiculous. How absurd! How asinine! What kind of logic is *that*?
Golf Ball knew that there had to be *something*, no matter how nonsensical and ridiculous it may seem at a glance, that guides everyone towards this seemingly predestined path of self-destruction. Why is everyone so keen on sacrificing long-term gain in exchange for short-term excitement, for entertainment? Why do they throw away everything they have without a second thought all for the sake of winning some dumb island? That was one of the foundational reasons why she got into the study of these things in the first place. One day she was just like the rest of them, then the next her eyes were suddenly open; she very quickly realized her place in the universe, how it goes about its day through a million different processes that work without their knowledge, directing destiny and changing lives without them noticing. Why on *Earth* did they just settle for living their days in the grassy fields, just waiting for the story to come to them?
That was when GB went down the path of enlightenment and reason; or, as everyone else puts it, down the path of obnoxiousness and complaining.
Some time after that, she had well and truly separated from the usual rabble of the masses. She had a vast, underground facility that was well and truly her own, where she could work on her quest towards knowledge without interference. She now had extensive, detailed information about so much, from so long ago, and from so many different places. She knew why the grass was green (well, yellow now), why the sky was blue, why the sun shined, and why Earth came to be. She had the answers to 2,763 questions that were incredibly essential, yet aren't even thought of by most.
She was so far ahead, but at the same time, she didn't feel like she had gotten *anywhere*. Her massive puzzle still had a few missing pieces. How did life come to be? Why exactly did it take on the form of household objects? What happened to Yoyle City? What are the speaker boxes? The algebralians? Why do they want them to Battle for Dream Island so much? What's the point of *anything*?
And, perhaps most importantly, why does CloudYAY hate her so, *so* much?
She was in the middle of doing her usual lame, boring nerd stuff when somebody suddenly emerged from the shadows, walking towards her as if she belonged there, as if nothing was wrong.
"Has anyone ever told you how sad you look when you're working?" Pillow inquired; Golf Ball, *obviously* wouldn't expect that, and so she'd almost have a heart attack right then and there. Do living objects have hearts? Who cares? "*Why*... are you here?" "Look at this stuff." The fluff continued. "All this junk you've hoarded, all for nothing. It's very depressing, no?" "WHY ARE YOU HERE?" GB demanded. "Just taking notes." The bedhead finally answered. "Everyone hates you, so I figured they'd appreciate me coming down here and writing down everything there is to know about you. That way, they can plan your demise."
The team tyrant's eye twitched. "Oh, relax!" The murderer continued. "It's just a joke; I can see why people hate you so much." She'd then spin around in a circle, already getting rather bored of this conversation. "So, why are you here, anyway?" She'd ask. "...Isn't it obvious?" The dimpled despot raised an eyebrow. "You already said it. You put it *so* succinctly." "Oh, I don't remember that." Pillow remarked; the sport globule seethed. "My entire team doesn't listen to me. They immediately reject me. *Fine*. So be it." She'd scoff. "I don't need them, anyway; they're all just a bunch of dead-weights. At the end of the day, all that really matters is myself; as long as *I* stay at the game, and *they* don't, that's fine by me." "Ooh." The sleeping item nodded in agreement. "I like that way of thinking."
