BFDI Prequels | A BFDI Fanfic

Chapter 12: Another Near-Death Experience

There are many things to be mindful of when hurtling down tight city avenues at a hundred miles an hour. There are so many things that could go abysmally aloof that in most countries, such a deed is deemed illegal. However, on whatever planet objects live, these behaviors are harmless, just as long as you don't kill anyone.

In that moment and time, however, the least Pencil could be bothered to think about was not annihilating anyone, especially when her supervan had no brakes. No vehicle had brakes. After all, the legal jurisdiction in Yoyleland was extremely lacking.

"Why the pen factory are we going so fast!?" Pen hollered, gripping to his seat.

"Trust me, you're going to be okay!" Pencil pledged, "I've only rammed one van into a building."

"What!?"

"Never mind!"

There was technically no cause for Pencil to yell so loud. After all, she was used to driving at critical speeds. And while most logical people would opt against those tactics, Pencil was far from logical. Clever? Yes. Intrepid? Yes. But out of all things that she was, logical was not one of them.

"Can we please slow down?" Pen pleaded.

Pencil sighed, "Pen, Pen! Why waste your life in a supervan, when you could be spending it doing better things?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, I dunno, maybe starting an alliance that evolves into the mafia, using lightning to electrocute your enemies, all while being broadcasted as a kid's show?"

"That's oddly specific. And terrifying."

Pencil laughed, deeming the same thing herself. She even wondered how such a concept popped up in her lead head in the first place.

"Yeah, imagine that-"

Pen piercingly interjected, "Pencil, look out!"

She spotted two objects in the middle of the road. And the van was approaching them. Fast.

"Hold on tight!" Pencil shouted.

Veering to the left, the van drifted along the road as it swerved sideways. The odor of burning rubber diffused itself in the cabin, as it came to a sudden stop, nearly tipping over from the force. The van managed to stabilize, slamming back onto the asphalt with a solid thud.

"That was close." Pen looked like he had run a marathon.

"Sure was," she paused, "wait, what's that noise?"

A muted thumping sound was coming from the side of the van, along with the voices of what seemed like a very hostile individual. Hold on, I'd recognize that voice anywhere, Pencil speculated, realizing who it was. She opened the door, and lo and behold, it was her fiery friend, along with someone she didn't recognize.

"Hey, Matchy! How's it going?" Pencil beamed.

"Pencil! Is this, like, your doing?" Match bitterly pointed at the supervan.

She grinned nervously, "Umm, maybe?"

"That's the, like, the second time you've tried to, like, kill me today! What the woodsickle is, like, wrong with you!?"

The stranger that Pencil didn't seem to recognize started to back away. The good thing is, you could tell who someone was just by looking at them since they're objects. After some simple guesswork, she worked out that they were some kind of bubble.

"Ohm, Oi'll joist woik awoi now. It's boin noice knoing you, Moich." The capsule of air said.

"Wait, don't, like, go, Bubble! I just need to, like, figure some things out with Pence-Pence."

"Yeah, sure. So, sorry about almost driving into you, Match. You wanna come to my house for dinner?"

"I, like, suppose. But can Bubble come too?"

"Eh, why not, come on, Bubble!"

Pencil, Match, and Bubble managed to get into the supervan without any lethal issues, although Match did almost punch Pen in the face, mistaking him for a carjacker. It took about 12 seconds of explaining for Match to understand that the blue ballpoint was just an idiot who forgot his keys.

The rest of the way home was satisfactorily unamusing. Pencil decided that maybe it wasn't a valid idea to use the entire speedometer, and kept the velocity at a manageable rate.

Sputtering up to a modest house on the edge of the city, the supervan slowed to a crawl, and then stopped reliably. The trick was to take off the gas at least five minutes ahead of when she was supposed to stop.

"Everybody out, we're home," Pencil ordered as she turned the over-the-top van off.

<=======>

It took quite the while for her to get Pen and Bubble appropriated to the surroundings, mostly because Bubble insisted on walking close to almost all sharp things in the kitchen. Pen was a lot easier to manage. Once he found a decent computer, he insisted on staying there. That left Match and Pencil alone.

They managed to find a suitable location on one of the couches amid the main room. Pencil rested down and motioned for Match to join her. It was only a quarter past two, but she already felt tired, even though she didn't do much for the entire day.

"I bet you must despise me for nearly killing you twice today," Pencil mused, sinking further into the fluffy cushions.

"I got over it," Match responded.

"That's good to know."

The world seemed to get a lot smaller at that moment, as the comforts of the abode brought all the strain of recent events out of her. With Match at her side, and a new employee for her start-up, it seemed like everything in her life was finally coming together. Ever since she moved out of the old farmhouse, she felt like something was missing from her life.

"Hey, Matchy?" Pencil whispered to no avail.

She rolled over to see the flammable stick slumped over, resting her head upon the armrest. How quickly can she fall asleep? Pencil admired. She gradually got up, careful not to kick Match in the face again like that morning.

The distant sounds of a keyboard from Pen told Pencil he was working on some kind of scheme. Whatever it was, Pencil wasn't interested. With a yawn, she pulled out her phone. Again, more notifications (read: Threats) from the Duolingo Owl. Like the strong soul she was, Pencil disregarded the messages. What did pique her interest, however, were the news headlines.

"Mayor Chess Queen abruptly cuts all yoyleberry exports," she read.

As it turned out, something wrong with the berries had caused all shipments to stop. Pencil wasn't too worried, but she knew how severe the consequences could be if it went on for a longer time. Then again, things tend to go bad when objects are involved.