Chapter 18: When the Ground Becomes Fuzzy

                                    

                                          
The air was stale, the halls were dim. The mechanical gears whirred, the fluids dripped. The perfect industrial environment. Or at least it would be if the ground wasn't so fuzzy. But why was it fuzzy? 
                          
Golf Ball knew her bunker like the back of her nonexistent hands. And she would certainly remember if she would ever install artificial grass, which she obviously didn't. Still unable to see clearly through the unlit factory, she attempted to map out her surroundings by using her legs.
                          
After trying (and failing) to get up, GB realized she was on top of a medium-sized spherical object. Considering what happened the last time she was on top of something, she wasn't feeling particularity safe. The last thing she'd want would be to fall off and break in half.
                          
She weighed her options. Either assume that she was safe, get off, and get work done. Or, she could waste precious time by waiting until the automated lights went on, and then try to find a way out of the problem. However, if she was on a mountain of trash, the result would be the same, just with more time lost.
                          
Golf Ball decided to take the risk.
                          
She lept off the fuzzy mass, sailing elegantly through the black like a blind ballerina. She could feel the ground beneath her. The solid foundation was right there, longing for her to land on. Contact. The force of the impact rippled through her synthetic rubber core, forcing her to keep her knees bent. Focus. The wobbling was brought to a standstill. Miraculously, a perfect landing. More importantly, she wasn't a puddle of white, nonliving goo.
                          
She tried to straighten her legs, but the overwhelming recoil from the landing caused her to lean forward, past her center of gravity. Unable to stop what was happening, Golf Ball smacked right into the cement. It was then unanimously agreed by all her brain cells to leave the "falling over" part out when retelling the story.
                          
Ignoring the short-coming, GB marched toward the light switch. She was as determined as ever to find out what caused her so much trouble. Even in the darkness, Golf Ball was still able to find the key to her dilemma. She kicked the panel and the void evaporated. There it was. Or rather, there HE was.
                          
It was Tennis Ball. She had been sleeping on Tennis Ball.
                          
"What the golf club are you doing!?" she exclaimed right into his face.
                          
"Sleeping?" he replied while lazily opened his eyelids; squinting from the harsh exposure. 
                          
She frowned at his overly normal response. TB slowly adjusted to the change in brightness, and after a lot of blinking, was able to fully open his eyes to see that she was centimetres away from his face.
                          
"Care to explain why I was sleeping on your head?" Golf Ball snapped.
                          
"Um, well, you see..." he blabbered, "You know, it's really hard to explain something when you're an inch away from me."
                          
"It's 2.54 centimetres! Never use inches. But I guess I should give you space." she said, retreating a tad. "Now can you explain?"
                          
"W-well, after Coiny and Needle went to bed, you fell asleep on the floor. And from my knowledge, a firm concrete floor isn't the most c-comfortable. I didn't want to w-wake you up by moving y-you to your bed, so I put you on my h-head," he stammered.
                          
"But you'd still be on the floor!"
                          
"I know, but I didn't want to risk waking you up. Plus, you've been through a lot lately, and I wanted to give you a good night's rest."
                          
"Oh, okay," she stated emotionlessly.
                          
TB looked down, sighed, and walked away. Golf Ball didn't understand why he got so upset after doing her a favour. Like the time they went for ice cream, and he gave her his cone when she dropped her's on the floor. Or whenever he'd compliment her. From what she knew, people did nice things voluntarily. Tennis Ball should have been happy to treat her well. Clearly, he wasn't.
                          
Was it something I did? Something I said? She reasoned with herself.
                          
The scientist in her told her to straight to the source to find the answer, but she didn't have the time to investigate her social interactions. There was a whole wide wondrous world waiting for her to jump into. Optionally with fewer injuries this time.
                          
She did a quick scan of the area. Coiny and Needle were still in the guest room. Tennis Ball was holed up in his room doing something that involved a lot of sobbing. Any hope of help for that day would, unfortunately, be lost. 
                          
What she needed help with was an entirely different matter. There was still the broken machine that needed fixing, the pile of scrap that needed cleaning, and the cancelled work contract that needed cancelling. But. as Tennis Ball said, she had been going through a lot recently. A day off sounded like a hole-in-one. And with Needle and Coiny now living in the factory indefinitely, there wouldn't be much work completed anyways.
                          
Golf Ball considered a few things they could do for the day. The city park was always open, but not exactly thrilling. The Yoyleball stadium had a game that afternoon, but she was never into sports. The Yoyle Needy, well, Needle wouldn't be too happy about that one. 
                          
I got it! We can go out of the city! 
                          
Only, it was still 4 in the morning, so she went back to sleep. This time in her bed, and not Tennis Ball's fuzz. Which, to be fair, actually felt really good. She just didn't know how to tell him that she enjoyed sitting on his summit. There were a lot of things that she didn't know how to tell him.
                          
"Thank you" was one of them.