BFJ • Object Show

Episode One - The Prologue

A mysterious figure sat in a room. This room had a single lamp turned on, otherwise filled with tables and furniture and stuff of the sorts. It wasn't sure what was going on, if this was a dream or not, but went with what happened and just sat in the room. Who knows, maybe it'll venture out sometime soon.

What went on outside of the room is unknown. All that could be heard was the sound of itself breathing and the ticking of an old alarm clock that sat on a dusty nightstand.

That is, until the doorknob shook.

"H—Hello? What is this?" A small voice wondered. The figure spun around in a creaking swivel chair with a torn cushion, and stared at the door. The voice sounded like that of somebody young and docile to itself, but it still thought for a second. It was lonely here, anyways. And who knows how long this dream/reality/day/night would last? It didn't want to just. . . be there.

"Okay," the figure said quietly. It was hard to muster words in such a stuffy, airless world.

The person outside smiled gratefully. The figure opened the door. "Hello there!" The person, to the figure's confusion, looked like a talking lock that you'd see on a safe. Except, well, talking, and walking.

The figure glanced down to see the talking lock holding a gun. "Alright, what the fuheck? I go to see a talking lock holding a gun outside my door? Bye, I'd prefer sitting in here to spend my. . . dream without you, I guess."

The lock held the gun behind her back. "Wait, wait! This is Bloody Knife's gun, not mine! I just took it from him before he shot all of us!" The lock paused. "Please don't leave, I have very important matters to speak with you about. I won't shoot you, I swear." The lock threw the gun to the musty dirt ground behind her.

The figure hesitated. "How many talking locks are there?" It asked.

"Just me. These other people are different talking objects like myself." She held out a hand, smiling. "My name is Lock. You?"

The figure blinked, cautiously giving her a firm handshake. "I'd prefer not to give my name, but hello, Lock." It let go of Lock's hand and stood quietly for a moment. "Mind telling me what these "important matters" are? I'd like to get back to my spinny chair and think about life and where the fuheck I even am at this moment," it sighed.

"Well," Lock grabbed something from a small bag she held. A toy of some sorts, the figure thought. It was dark and it couldn't tell what exact type of toy it was. Yellow, it believed. Unusual, it hadn't seen such a bright color since getting here.

Lock showed the toy. "This is Jeffery," she said. It was a rubber duck, just what appeared to be a plain old rubber duck that costed $1 and could be used in a bathtub and then get worn out after a week. But Lock seemed to hold it with such care, looked at it with such admiration. . .

The figure recognized the name Jeffery. From where, it didn't know at this moment.

"What about it? Looks like a rubber duck you got from a dollar store," the figure said. Lock yiped in horror.

"THIS IS JEFFERY, YOU FUCKING IDIOT! NOT A RUBBER DUCK!" Lock cried. "Bye, I don't trust you anymore. . ."

"Wait, wait. Sorry. Just tell me whatever the fuheck is going on, I'm actually quite bored and would like something to kill— I mean, do." The figure muttered. "Jeffery is awesome, Jeffery is God, I would die for Jeffery, aight?"