Author's Notes: The plot is really thickening now! This chapter introduces new characters, new plot points, and new challenges for Frost Byte. I'm so happy I was able to write such a long chapter in such a short amount of time. I can't gurantee a continuation of this pace, but I'm just glad I managed it this time. Thanks to everyone who is reading and/or reviewing :)


Chapter 12

The Catch

FTR-416, DD-2831, and RJ-5252 stepped off the elevator and walked down the darkened hallway of the third basement level of Sellbot HQ. RJ-5252 thought they were going to give a progress report to the VP's secretary, but that was a lie. The other two Cogs wanted nothing more than to repair their coworker's fragmented mind, and to do that they needed to use a little subterfuge.

The trio of janitors made it to a small grey room with small grey folding chairs. Overall the atmosphere was oppressive and glum, just like the rest of Sellbot HQ.

"Wait here until we call for you, RJ-5252," FTR-416 ordered.

"Yes, sir," RJ-5252 replied without inflection.

FTR knew that part of him would miss that level of blind obedience, but he also knew their office environment would never feel right so long as RJ-5252 was "in proper working condition".

FTR and DD went into the workshop to meet with RMO-034, and the first thing FTR noticed was how disorganized the workspace looked. There were dirty operating tables piled with junk and Cog parts, the lights flickered at random intervals, and the wall had a hole large enough to see the smog filled sky as well as the landfill where broken Cogs and office equipment was thrown away.

Standing amidst the chaos was a Glad Hander, his portly frame seeming to struggle to catch up with his frenetic yet purposed movements. He was fast for a Cog, and his smile wasn't so much salesworthy as it was unsettling. Something was clearly off about this Cog.

"Are you my six 'o clock appointment?" The Glad Hander asked when he saw them standing in the doorway.

"Yes, we are your 6:00 appointment," FTR replied, "The Cold Caller is in the waiting room. Are you certain you can reset his mind to a safe reboot from before his operation occurred three days prior?"

"Of course I can!" RMO-034 replied confidently, "I'm the best at what I do, at least as far as I can prove. I doubt anyone else who dabbles in my line of work would openly admit it. Only Lawbots are meant to be surgeons, but they're just so smug about it. Always following rules, and always decrying those of us who have real ideas for improvement. Now, let me just clear off a table for the patient..."

RMO-034 then swiped his bulky arm over a pile of junk and sent it clanking loudly to the floor. He didn't even bother to pick it up as he waddled to the waiting room to fetch RJ-5252. FTR and DD, both janitors who couldn't stand a mess, stared in discomfort at the abandoned pile of trash. When RMO-034 returned with his patient, he found FTR-416 picking up the garbage and setting it in a neat pile against a wall. He chuckled at this, not understanding why they even bothered.

"Alright lower worker, just set yourself on the table and I'll get right to work!" RMO-034 exclaimed chipperly.

"Shouldn't my physical examination be conducted by an Ambulance Chaser?" RJ-5252 asked in confusion.

"Not anymore. It's a new policy," RMO-034 lied, "Sellbots take care of Sellbots. It saves the company travel expenses and profits lost from employees taking personal days."

"Understood," RJ-5252 complied.

FTR and DD looked at each other, a little nervous at not only bringing RJ to this quack, but also experiencing trepidation due to how easily the Glad Hander told a lie. Everything about this so-called "surgeon" seemed unprofessional, and it was only made worse by the fact that his sole purpose in life seemed to be making other Cogs as unprofessional as he was. Nonetheless they needed him right now, so they would both look the other way while he conducted illegal repairs on their fellow employee. Time would only tell if their gamble paid off.


Frost looked at her new home with a critical and skeptical eye. Since she couldn't live at the Blues News building like she had done with her candy shop, she had to be assigned an estate by the Toon Council. They had given her a small blue house on the outskirts of town, but it was certainly more...humble than she expected it to be. Oh well, at least it was free, which was something Frost Byte hadn't been sure about at first. She could have had a house the entire time, but she had assumed it would cost jellybeans.

Since this house wasn't in the heart of town the music was merely white noise. The music almost sounded pleasant from this distance, though she could imagine that going to work was going to be difficult. She would have to type while listening to the worst bands in history try to harmonize. It sent shivers down the poor deer's spine. She knew if she was going to be productive, she would have to write her ideas down while she was at home.

Frost rarely had an opportunity to express herself creatively, so she feared it would be difficult, but even as she sat next to the fireplace news articles and subjects danced in her head. She wrote down the headlines for at least five things she could write about, though she wasn't sure if Lowdown Sally would like any of them. After all, Frost was never that adept at figuring out what made Toons tick.

As evening fell Frost went into her new bedroom. The big jellybean bank in there was surely a beautiful sight, and Frost Byte was determined to fill it to the brim with profits. She placed her suitcase on the bed and then went back into the living room to sleep in a chair next to the fireplace. It was the warmest plushest chair she had ever slept in, and her dreams were beautiful swirls of grey drab walls and colorful jellybeans. Her first day had been uneventful but lovely.

...

That pleasantness was interrupted rather abruptly the next morning when Frost heard shouting coming from outside. The blue deer was jolted awake by yelling, and anger quickly flooded her system. If they were trying to drain her Laff they were doing a pretty good job of it.

Wait...Laff. Those shrieking voices outside sounded familiar, but it was difficult for Frost to place them. One was squealing and sounded like there was something caught in their throat, and the other one had a nasally yet masculine whine to it. It took a moment, but Frost finally put two and two together.

"Olivia D'Best and Twisty Turner," Frost said to herself, "What are those two chuckleheads doing here?"

Olivia and Twisty were both members of Frost Byte's low Laff support group. They were ubers who frequently worked together and fought with each other constantly. Olivia was a short fat purple pig, and Twisty was a tall thin cyan rabbit. They looked like total opposites, but they behaved in a very similar way.

Frost went outside to see the pair not in front of her house, but next door arguing over a flower garden. Olivia shook a watering can and gesticulated while Twisty stomped his large bunny feet and threw his hands up in exasperation.

"What are you guys doing?" Frost asked curiously.

"Huh?" Olivia grunted and turned around, "Oh! Frost Byte! Haven't seen you in group for a while. How've you been?"

"I am doing well, thank you," Frost replied in a formal manner, "What are you two doing here?"

"We're trying to revive Olivia's stupid flowers from the dead," Twisty groused, "I keep telling her she needs fertilizer, but she won't listen to me."

"Oh, but they're getting plenty of fertilizer..." Olivia said with mock sweetness, "From you constantly talking!"

"Oh, if I wanted to..." Twisty shook his fist at her.

"You still couldn't," Olivia bragged, "I'm telling you, they just need more water!"

"They already shriveled. You wanna add drowning to that list too?" Twisty asked condescendingly.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Frost stopped them from arguing further, "Olivia, do you live here?"

"Of course," Olivia shrugged, "Twisty's house is right next door to mine. Why? You didn't come to see us?"

"No, actually," Frost admitted, "I just moved into that house right there."

"Really? That is so cool!" Olivia exclaimed, "Now I have a friend on either side of me!"

"You guys are friends?" Frost asked in confusion.

"Well, if I'm being honest, it's a bit more than that," Olivia replied almost sheepishly, "Twisty and I have been dating for six months now."

"Dating? I don't understand," Frost replied, puzzled, "What do calendars have to do with anything?"

"No, Frost. We're dating, like, we're a couple," Twisty elaborated.

"I still don't get it," Frost shrugged, "A couple of what?"

Olivia laughed at that question, thinking it was a funny joke, but Twisty could tell Frost was legitimately confused.

"Hm...How to explain this..." Twisty pondered, "Oh, I got it! Do you know what an office romance is?"

"In my last employee manual it was called the height of unprofessionalism," Frost recalled.

"Indeed it is!" Twisty said proudly, "Olivia and I work together taking down Cogs, and then afterward we canoodle with each other. That's called dating."

"But...you're always arguing," Frost pointed out.

"It's called passion," Olivia said with dramatic flare, "You'll understand someday."

"No, I don't think I will," Frost laughed nervously, "I can't help but wonder though, why do you two go to group in Daisy Gardens? Melodyland is so far away. Daisy Gardens is all the way down in the south west, and Melodyland is north."

"True, but there are no other groups we can go to," Olivia explained, "Seeds of Change is a pretty unique place, and we're happy to have it. Deerborne does the work other Toons are too scared to do, and I respect her for that."

"I just like that it's as far away from The Brrrgh as possible," Twisty added, "I used to live in The Brrrgh. I hated it. Jordan still lives there, and I don't know how he stands it. The place is just so...cold and wet. Minnie's is better."

"Twisty's dad lives in Daisy Gardens too, so at least that's convenient," Olivia commented.

"Oh, I don't really visit him much," Twisty shook his head, "I just call him when I need something. He's a nice guy, but we don't have a lot in common."

Frost still didn't actually know what a dad was, but she was afraid of asking too many questions. She didn't want her new neighbors to get suspicious of her. After all, by having anything to do with Cogs while living in Toontown Frost Byte was playing a dangerous game.

"I wish you'd let me come with you to visit him sometime," Olivia chided Twisty, "Smilin' Captain Romeo sounds like a nice guy. We've spoken on the phone, and he seems to like me."

"Only because he knows we make each other miserable. Hah!" Twisty joked.

Olivia went back to watering the flowers, and immediately Twisty started arguing about manure. Frost backed away once the yelling started again, and she wondered how an office romance could survive such vitriol. Then again Olivia D'Best and Twisty Turner were supposedly defective Toons. Perhaps it was a malfunction.

At the very least, Frost could see that in their own environment the duo were different. In group they both seemed more rigid, more openly combative. Here in their own estates they fought, but they also made jokes and small talk like ordinary Toons. It was almost as if the fighting had a playful element to it. Perhaps there was a healing quality to the concept of home. Frost would have to look into it and see if there was a financial angle for her news column.


Deerborne couldn't believe what she was seeing. Neat Sweet Treats was gone. It had only been a few days since she had last been there, and now it was a different shop completely. Now it was called Crystal's Candies & Confections. Where was Frost's shop? Where was Frost Byte herself?

Deerborne wondered if she would even have the Laff to make it back to Daisy Gardens. She had wanted to see Frost Byte one more time, to prove to her that she was willing to be there as both a therapist and a mother. She wanted to mend the rift, but instead the hole in her heart tore open anew. Frost was just...gone.

"I don't understand where Frosty went," Deerborne heard someone say.

The sienna deer turned her head toward the fishing hole, and saw a pink rabbit and a yellow duck talking with one another while they fished. She recognized that rabbit from the first time Frost Byte entered her support group. She was a newspaper reporter.

"Me either. Something was definitely wrong with her last time we spoke," Oliver said to Patsy, "I mean, I understand that going to Lawbot HQ is a scary experience, especially for a Toon with a Laff as low as hers, but I don't think that was the only problem. She seemed angry last time we saw her, confrontational. Like something was bothering her."

"She didn't even tell us where she was going though," Patsy sighed miserably, "It's one thing to sell her shop, but she just packed up everything and left for who-knows-where. She even took her Doodle with her! Is she mad at us?"

"Maybe," Oliver guessed, "Something smells rotten about this though. I don't just mean the move, either. Something about Frost Byte ain't right."

"Hee hee!" Patsy giggled, "Frost Byte ain't right. That rhymes!"

"I mean it!" Oliver snapped, "When we told her the story about the Telemarketer, she didn't seem all that surprised. When we wanted to write a feel good story, she wanted us to write about boring legal stuff. I'm telling you, something is up with that deer."

"It's not polite to talk about others behind their back," A feminine voice suddenly said.

Patsy and Oliver flinched, but then Patsy smiled when she saw who it was.

"Deerborne!" Patsy cheered, "It's so good to see you! How goes things at Seeds of Change?"

"Everything is fine right now," Deerborne said neutrally, "Young ones, I want to ask you about Frost Byte. When was the last time you saw her?"

"Three days ago," Oliver told her, "We were fishing in Minnie's Melodyland when she decided to walk home ahead of us. Why? What have you heard?"

"That you suspect her of doing something wrong," Deerborne replied almost accusingly, "I think there's a more logical reason for her actions, however. I kicked her out of group almost a week ago. It was probably four days ago, I think. I was worried about her being ambushed by a Cog on the long walk over to Seeds of Change. I wanted to protect her, but instead I think I hurt her more. Especially after she told me I was..."

"You were what?" Patsy asked; on edge with anticipation.

"Her mother," Deerborne admitted, and the other two gasped, "She believes I'm her birth mother, and given what I know of the situation I believe she's right. She must think I abandoned her the first time, and now she likely believes I abandoned her again. That's not true though! I wanted her then and I still want her in my life now. If only I could apologize, but I don't even know where she is."

"There has to be a way to find her," Patsy encouraged, "I mean, she's a Toon. She has to have some friends who know where she is. Right?"

Oliver and Deerborne looked at Patsy with sad sympathetic eyes. They both knew that was too optimistic. Frost's whole life was her job, and if she couldn't be found at her shop then who would possibly know where she went? Frost Byte's connections, as far as the trio knew, was standing right there at that fishing hole.

"I'll ask the other members of the support group if they've seen her," Deerborne promised.

"Good idea!" Patsy exclaimed, "I'll check around town. If it's one thing I'm good at, it's sniffing out a story. Soon we'll solve the case of the missing candy store merchant!"

"You're making this sound more epic than it probably is," Oliver teased, "She probably just moved her shop to another district because she wanted more jellybeans. I can still see the way she cringed whenever she had to feed a jellybean to Wholesale. Frost is a good person, but she's really tightfisted with her jellybeans."

Deerborne wanted to search with the young reporters. She wanted to hear their stories and anecdotes about the daughter she never knew. She wanted that, but she also knew her most likely source of information would be her support group. So, with a heavy heart, Deerborne said goodbye to Patsy and Oliver and left for Daisy Gardens. She just hoped someone had seen where Frost Byte went, otherwise she might never see her only child again.


When RMO-034 was finished with the operation he wiped the steam condensation off his brow and smiled in triumph. FTR-416 and DD-2831 weren't going to celebrate just yet. Not until they saw for certain that RJ-5252 was truly fixed.

RJ-5252 was quickly reactivated and rose from the operating table, the white sheet over his body falling into his lap in one fluid motion. He looked around the room, and it was already clear that he was more alert and self-aware than he had been before the surgery.

"What happened?" RJ asked in confusion, "I feel different. My CPU is coming up with ideas again. Was the imagination removal a failure?"

"No," FTR replied, "You imagination removal was successful. However, your personality had been altered in an undesirable way. You were negligent of your fish and had lost interest in everything that had once been important to you outside of work. I made an executive decision to return you to factory settings."

"But...imaginations are bad, right?" RJ asked, sounding small and lost, "How can I be a better Cog with an imagination than without one?"

"It is difficult to explain," FTR admitted, "However, your increased productivity was not worth the loss of your individuality. Any Cog can work, but only one Cog I know reads Dilbot comics and collects balloon fish. Only one Cog I know would look at an infant Toon and name it Frost Byte. Only one Cog can be RJ-5252, and it is you, RJ-5252. That is worth more than a few extra cold calls during business hours."

Had he had the ability, RJ would have cried.

"I didn't realize I meant so much to you, boss," RJ choked up.

"Can we go now?" DD asked impatiently, "This place is giving me the creeps."

"Very well. RMO-034, how much do we owe you for the operation?" FTR-416 asked.

"Here's my list," RMO-034 replied as he handed a yellow piece of paper to FTR.

FTR looked over what was written, and was floored.

"This is not cogbucks," FTR noted critically.

"No, but it is the price for my services," RMO grinned wickedly.

"What is it? What does he want?" DD asked curiously as she tried to look over FTR's shoulder.

FTR showed her the list, and DD stared at it quizzically.

"What do you need this junk for?" DD inquired.

"Never you mind," RMO replied cryptically, "Just know that I will have my demands met, or else I will report RJ's illegal surgery to the VP. He'll melt you all down for spare parts when he finds out you made your staff member Toonier."

"But you're the one who did it!" DD shouted, "He'll melt you down too!"

"You think he'll believe a Glad Hander has the skills to perform Cog surgery?" RMO asked with mock innocence, "Why that's absurd! My only job is sales. I'm just being a good employee and reporting Toony behavior. Now, about my list..."

"There's always a catch," DD muttered as she crossed her arms.

FTR looked at the list for another long moment, his eyes opened and flashed for a split second, and then he handed the paper back to RMO-034.

"I have photo-copied the list and will procure the requested items within the week," FTR-416 told him, "Once this transaction is complete we will never speak of this again. Do not expect word-of-mouth customers."

"They always say that, and yet I'm still here," RMO lilted with glee, "Let me know if RJ-5252 requires any adjustments. I'm always here in my workshop. Tootles."

RJ-5252 felt very uneasy about what he just witnessed. His coworkers had risked their lives and reputations just to help him find joy in life again. He was grateful of course, as he felt like he had been raised from the waking dead, but he was also concerned. If something went wrong then it would be his fault. He didn't want anyone else getting hurt because of him.

"So boss...what does he want?" RJ ventured to ask.

"The payment for your operation is several bolts of colorful fabric, ten refills for a color inkjet printer, and one ring from a Goofy's Gumball Machine, which can be located in any Goofy's Gag Shop," FTR rattled off.

"I don't get it," DD remarked, "Printer ink is cheap to buy and can even be requested from procurement with the proper paperwork. As for that other stuff, what would he even do with it? Cog suits only come in four colors, six if you include formalwear. Why colorful fabric? And why a gumball ring? They're dirt cheap, and look like children's toys."

"RMO's reasons are not our concern," FTR replied, "What is our concern is the difficulty of his demand. We cannot get anywhere near a Toon playground to purchase a gumball ring, and the fabric would also need to be purchased from a Toontown shop. I get the feeling RMO gave us this task specifically because he is not able to procure these items himself."

"I think I have an idea for the fabric," RJ-5252 announced, "But I still don't know how to get a ring from a gumball machine."

"Hm...I got nothing," DD shrugged, "You think RMO-034 would really turn us in?"

"I do think RMO-034 would turn us in," FTR said, "RJ-5252, you are delegated to fabric retrieval. DD-2831, you will file the appropriate paperwork for the printer ink. I will figure out how to obtain a gumball ring. We will reconvene on this subject in exactly three days, so I expect to see results."

"Yes, sir!" DD and RJ replied in unison.

With that the Cogs had a new task to perform, all while also performing their regular duties as sales representatives. Needless to say, it was going to be a long week.


Frost Byte had just sold her first article, titled "Collectable Figurines: Frivolous Spending or Wise Investment?". She had been paid 418 jellybeans for a single article on a subject she enjoyed writing, and it was an incredible feeling. She even bought a Pluto Puppy figurine for herself when interviewing the shop owner in Donald's Dreamland. Overall it had been a great day.

As she strolled into the Minnie's Melodyland playground she was once again overcome with how empty everything looked. Toontown Central's playground was always full of running, smiling, laughing Toons. The Gag Shop always had a long line, the game trolley always had a long line, and even City Hall had a line. Everything was so cushy there, but Melodyland was a place that was both noisy and yet somehow also deserted. It was a strange feeling.

Frost didn't really do much in Toontown Central besides fish, and even then she had trouble finding a spot that wasn't taken. In Melodyland she could do whatever she wanted. But...the work day was over. What did she want to do now?

She had played on the trolley with Patsy and Oliver once. The line had been long and Frost felt pressured to leave early. They were playing a photography game that Frost actually enjoyed, but her friends wanted to find a different game and were encouraging her to hurry. That wasn't Frost's style however. She methodically took each photo with care, used up the full time with film to spare, and left the gaming area with two slightly ticked off Toons that had wasted their film to get out of there quicker.

Today however, she was alone. There was no line, and no friends to pressure her into skipping a game. She could compete with her own high scores and play however she saw fit. Perhaps today she should give the trolley one more try…

Smiling at the idea, Frost went home to put away her fragile glass figurine and then ran back to the playground to ride the game trolley. It was nighttime by the time she got back to the trolley, but the red gaming vehicle never closed so she could still ride as she pleased.

Frost wished the trolley had seat belts. Whenever she rode in one of these things she always felt like she was going to fall off. Still, the trolley didn't go too fast and most of the tension was only in Frost's imagination. The game the trolley selected would be random, but Frost secretly hoped it would be Photo Fun again.

When the trolley stopped, Frost could see she was in some sort of fruit orchard with a square clearing. It wasn't Photo Fun, but at least the scenery looked promising.

"Welcome to the Catching Game!" The announcer spoke from a loudspeaker, "The rules are simple. Catch as many falling fruits as you can, don't catch the anvils, and avoid the Cogs walking in your path. Have fun!"

"Cogs?" Frost asked herself.

The bell rang that said the game had begun, and Frost put her confusion aside to play. Some coconuts fell from the trees, and Frost covered her head to protect herself. When she failed to catch the fruit it simply disappeared, and Frost realized she would actually have to grab them to score any points.

When the next thing fell Frost was ready. Her arms were outstretched to catch a coconut, but instead an anvil fell on her head and she plummeted to the ground.

"Ow…" Frost groaned as she wobbled and stood up.

Her game face on, Frost looked up to try to determine where the next fruit would fall, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't catch anything. Now even the anvils seemed to be avoiding her. Why was this game so difficult?

She saw a coconut plummeting toward the ground, and she raced to grab it, but she was bowled over by what looked like a Backstabber!

"Hey! This is a Toon playground! Go away!" Frost shouted at the Cog.

The Cog walked to the other side of the playground, and then disappeared! Frost did a double take, but then realized her glasses hadn't picked up his ID. Of course. It was just a hologram, just like the fruit and anvils. Frost often wondered how Toons could master disappearing ink technology and yet didn't know anything about how to make efficient phones or computers.

Frost huffed and puffed, tired but not willing to surrender with no points in this game. The timer was ticking, more fake Cogs were walking by, and she hadn't caught a single coconut yet. Frost hoped her determination alone would carry her into being slightly less of a loser.

She jumped, reached, and grabbed at everything she could. No matter how she watched the skies however her aim was always off and she couldn't catch anything. The timer was down to ten seconds, and two holographic Cogs were about to intercept her as she tried to catch the fruit. She almost had it when a light in the corner of her glasses distracted her and she missed. She didn't care however, because that light was a code that said something important.

"What the-?" Frost whispered as she looked at the holo-Cogs. The Yesman was just another fake, but her glasses actually picked up an ID for the Pencil Pusher. It wasn't just any ID however…

"ANM-113?" Frost whispered to herself.

That serial number was a famous one among the Cogs, especially among the Cogs on Frost's old selling floor. The Bossbot Chronicles was one of the biggest newspaper publications in and out of Cog Nation, and while most of the articles were about dry, analytical stock reports and conquests, there was one bright spot that managed to appear amidst their pro-work propaganda: Dilbot. ANM-113 was the cartoonist behind Dilbot.

"Game over!" The automatic announcer chimed, "Total points: 0. Total jellybeans earned: 0. Thank you for playing. Would you like the trolley to take you back to the playground, or would you like to try a different game?"

Frost went to the trolley, but she didn't get on. The red button would take the trolley back to the playground, and the green button would send it to a different game. Frost pushed the red button to make the trolley return to the playground, but she didn't get on. Instead she hid behind one of the trees in the orchard. Something was going on here, and she was going to find out what it was.

Once the trolley left all of the fake Cogs disappeared, but just as Frost had suspected, the Pencil Pusher didn't. Instead he walked back behind the tree line and stood there staring at the entrance. Once he was sure no one was there, he pulled a piece of paper out of his suit jacket and placed it on a flat rock to look at it.

"Excuse me?" Frost abruptly called out.

The Cog, assuming no one was there, was startled. He was even more surprised to see that the Toon was looking right at him, talking right to him!

"Welcome to the Catching Game," The Pencil Pusher said in a dry monotone, "To begin a new game-"

"Stop that," Frost ordered, "I know you're not programmed into this game. You're a real Cog, ANM-113."

Frost had never seen a Bossbot look so surprised in her life. She didn't even know a Pencil Pusher's facial servos could stretch that far! At first she feared she was going to cause him to fritz, but then…

"You know my serial number?" ANM-113 asked, "You...aren't attacking me?"

"With what? The holographic coconuts?" Frost asked sarcastically, "I thought you were dead. Dilbot ended over a year ago, and Big Cheese BGJ-789 said you had been broken by high-level Toons."

"I faked it," ANM-113 confessed, "They were going to have me terminated, in a most literal sense I might add, so I faked my death to avoid a real one."

"Logical," Frost conceded, "But your comics made the paper money. Why would they want to kill you?"

"Because the Bean Counters at Cashbot HQ figured out my comics were decreasing productivity among the lower-level Cogs," ANM-113 explained, "My comics were considered anti-work, but I was just writing from personal experience. I have always loved to draw and write, but as a Flunky I was never allowed to do so. When I was promoted to Pencil Pusher I was transferred to the art department, where my comic was allowed to be published. Cogs loved my work, but my bosses hated it. It was only a matter of time before my comic was cancelled, but when they went after me personally I couldn't afford to stay."

"Understandable," Frost hummed, "But...why are you hiding in this trolley game?"

"Because no one would think to look for me here," ANM-113 explained, "Only a fool would go into a Toon playground, a place where Toons cannot be saddened or defeated. I snuck in here because the playground is always empty. I also chose this game because Cogs are expected to be seen here. I started out in Cog Thief, but the pies could kill me. In here I'm safe and free to write and draw as I please. Admittedly I haven't had any coffee in a long time, but I figured out how to plug into the wall to draw power. No one has even noticed."

"Wow...you're as brilliant in person as I always thought you would be," Frost said with admiration.

"There is one question I have for you though, Toon," ANM-113 added, "How do you know about me, and about Dilbot?"

"I've read your comics since I was a child," Frost told him, "I was an intern at Sellbot HQ from the time I was an infant. One of my coworkers loved Dilbot, and he would read them to me as a reward for completing my on-the-job training each work day. This might sound rather Toony of me, but you're an inspiration to me. I've always wanted to get paid to do something that brings joy to others. That was why I opened a candy shop, and it's why I sold that shop to become a journalist."

"You work for a newspaper?" ANM-113 asked apprehensively, "Are you...are you going to turn me in to the Toons?

"Never," Frost promised, "They would break you on sight. I would never allow that to happen to a national treasure, especially one as genial as you seem to be."

"You're a good Toon," ANM-113 said gratefully, "There's an emergency button you can press to call a new trolley to your location."

"Thank you, but what about you?" Frost asked, "I found you, so another Toon might be able to figure out you're not a fake Cog. If you get caught you'll be killed. You have to go back to Bossbot HQ."

"I can't!" ANM-113 snapped, "I'll be killed either way, but at least here I'm not surrounded by the smog of creative suffocation. I want to die the way I lived, inspired and surrounded by paper and pencils."

"Hm..." Frost pondered the situation, and after a moment she turned to ANM-113 and gave him a serious look, "Sir, you were accused of being Toony, right?"

"I was," ANM-113 sighed dejectedly.

"How much of an insult is that to you, really?" Frost asked intently.

"I've been called worse," ANM-113 shrugged.

"Good, because I think I know someone who can help us," Frost told him, "He's not above board, and it'll require some long-distance travel, but I think I know a way to make you disappear and get you some coffee in the process."

"Coffee?" ANM-113 perked up at that, "Well...what do I have to lose? At worst you'll lure me into an ambush. At best you're telling the truth."

"On my word as a journalist, I'm telling the truth," Frost vowed, "My name is Frost Byte, and I work for Blues News. I'm afraid my business card is drawn over a baby shower invitation, but that's just so my Toony neighbors aren't saddened by it."

Frost then handed the sparkly card to ANM-113, who smiled when he looked at it.

"Extra points for creativity," He commented approvingly.

"Yeah, well they're the only points I've earned all day," Frost quipped as she gestured to the orchard, "You ever been to Sellbot HQ?"

"No."

"Well then, you're going to be in for a real treat."