Alternate Battle for Dream Island

ABFDIA 25a: Backward, Forward, Decisive, Indecisive

Golf Ball has been pretty dumb at times. But she could never be *that* dumb.

She's been observing the contestants of the Battle for Dream Island since *long* before they would ever be given that moniker. She has developed an extensive profile of each and every one of them: how they act, how they behave, how they communicate, and so on, and so forth. As such, she knew that to trust them with anything, *anything* at all, was something that was so incredibly dumb, so completely and utterly incompetent to the point of being statistical abnormality, that entire books could be written on the subject. And they have. These characters are short-sighted and self-absorbed, solely focused on what entertains them the most at any given moment, regardless of whether or not it'll ultimately come back to bite them in the end. In an ideal world, the bozo-brain bossy-bot shouldn't have to consider their thoughts and opinions under any circumstance; anything they come up with will ultimately result in their downfall, and if she decides to follow them *just* this once, just to see what would happen, she knew full well that they'd just drag her down with them. When she was forced into that temporary 'alliance' with Pin, she knew that her fate was sealed. Anything could happen after that, but the odds were likely that they were going to suck. *Immensely*.

But what could she do? The contestants of the Battle for Dream Island are the most incompetent folks she had ever seen, but occasionally they do make *some* sense. A stopped clock is right twice a day, and all that. Despite all her intellect, her skills and capabilities, in the end Golf Ball was just a single person. A single, armless, *weak* person. In a physical fight, she'd be completely worthless. And the BFDI has been nothing *but* that. When she was driven into exile, when she was forced into that hole in the ground, she knew deep in her heart that the stage was already set. All she was doing was delaying the inevitable, building up the anticipation and tension until it just couldn't stay put any longer. Sooner or later, she *would* be found. she *would* be brought back to Dream Island, she *would* face the Announcer, and she *would* face... whatever came next. Whatever it may be. What *could* she do?

She could use what she's good for.

The Battle for Dream Island's most flashy and attention-grabbing moments come from displays of pure physical prowess, but there are all sorts of hidden dimensions that also come into play, that are often unseen and unfelt by the casual observer, but make *all* the difference. One could just try to push and tackle their way to the top, but that isn't sustainable, and never has been; as soon as they stumble once, as soon as their team loses, they are bound to get the boot for being rude or mean or whatever else. The competition, much like life, makes use of wits and cunning just as much as brute force, regardless of whether or not they wanted it or not. If it was just mindless brawling from one day to the next, it wouldn't be entertaining or fruitful in the slightest. There has to be a balance, or *nothing* gets done.

Golf Ball could feel her train of thought slipping again; this competition has been driving *everyone* mad, and she couldn't really avoid it for much longer. She knew that she was once again delaying the inevitable, like a writer frantically typing whatever words they could in an effort to get a story up to some arbitrary amount of words, even though it's *profoundly* clear that the well of ideas has run completely dry.

She should just get on with it.

After pacing around the room a few times to make sure that the Announcer was no longer looking, to make sure that the speaker box *really* was elsewhere, she'd put her plan into motion. She'd look left, then right, then would proceed to kick her 'shoes' off. There weren't exactly all too many chances to hide something on you, and so GB had to get creative. Painted black, the only way one would tell that anything was off is if they noticed that she was a few inches taller than normal; of course, no one would be attentive enough to figure that out. Hidden inside, in all manners of obscured nooks and crannies as a second layer of defense, were a variety of tools used to pick locks and get rid of any other physical restraints. These proved to be particularly useful during fieldwork; more often than not, all the best secrets were hidden under tons of security. These were typically just stored in a backpack or something, but she knew that there would come a day where they'd be useful in... other matters. Hence, the shoes.