On the Other Side of Vramaa

In a musty room full of thing-a-ma-jigs and knick-knacks all sleeping under a blanket of dust and cobwebs, the doorway to a thriving complex opened, letting in light and disco music. It was the messiah of the world above; for the one who slept on the old cot and toiled day and night in his prison of sorts hadn't seen light for a week since he was last checked on. Half-eaten bread and a glass of grape juice sat on his desk; so close to the various frog automatons made out of scrap metal and gears lying nearby that it were as if they were getting acquainted with their new neighbors. Old, scraggly hands adorned with wrinkles and veins worked hard on scribbling blueprints onto paper; as if only they had been dipped in the Fountain of Youth but retained the beauty of ugliness. There was no copper wedding ring on his hand; only bronze rings with glued-on gears and screws to compensate for the ugly skin of their body. A large, straw hat fit over their owner's brow, and wild grey hair streamed down from the depths of the hat. A mustache and beard, along with a cyborg eye, were placed on his face, although all three were dirty. The only thing nice about him was his tailored Italian suit, and even that had a grape juice stain on its sleeves.

"Doctor, how are your blueprints on the premium de-roboticizer? The Rebels have rounded up all of the robot Vramaasians and tranquilized them, but we don't have supplies that can subdue them much longer. Sooner or later, we'll have an outbreak of rebellions against the Rebels." said Peck. She was much more diplomatic right now than she usually was to her peers, or any person, for that matter, because The Doctor was much harder to talk to safely than most. Her first chats with Doctor were unspeakably rough, involving much item-throwing and a haywire spatula.

Don't ask.

"Fine, Peck." grunted the Doctor. Moving his legs all-so-slightly, he sighed.

"I'm a Twoleg, for goodness sake. Of course I'm fine. I'm always fine." he said sarcastically.

"Doctor, I'm the Alpha of sarcasm. I know sarcasm when I hear it. What is your reason for such slowness? A turtle could do better than you. Plus, we have another Alpha helping out with Tunnel Town, so why aren't you calling upon either deer or rabbits to help you?" asked Peck.

"Again, I'm a Twoleg. Unlike you newfangled Jamaasians, I tire easily. I have arthritis, and I'm getting old for inventing. Originally, I was an engineer in Chicago until the portal opened in my cubicle, and I stepped through. Immediately I was before Aios, and was whipped to serve him as an inventor. For many years I blindly served him in this new world not too much unlike the human world. All the while, though, I wondered where the democracy in this world went. Then, Zira was killed at the hands of the Renegades, and Aios was finished off by the joint work of Snowyclaw and the Mobian Heroes. The Rebels flooded in, ransacked the castle, and purified any servants of the Vramaasian Empire, alongside repairing the robots affected by the EMP field, and making gadgets for those fields, too. MS and MF were obviously derelict, and I was overjoyed. At least these people had some common sense, and a form of democracy, too!"

Doctor shook his head.

"But nooooo, instead I realize that the Alphas of Jamaa are directing all the restoration efforts behind the scenes, and I was employed to make the de-roboticizer so that the robots discovered in the villages could be restored to normal. Normal de-roboticizing was very risky, and any molecule changes could be deadly, but the only wielders of Chaos Control were already out of the dimension. And now, I toil endlessly for your own intentions, no longer willing to resist or return to my homelands." sighed Doctor. A tear dropped on a discarded blueprint.

Peck, choking down her own biting words and tears, said: "Well, see you tomorrow." and ascended up the dusty stairs, Samantha taking an automaton tomato with her to fool her boyfriend and the gardeners tomorrow.