The Playwright Presents: Sloth's Pit Theatre!

"Hey…" Com crackled softly above Lucius. "I was wondering… How is it out there?"

"Out there?" Lucius asked, glancing upwards.

"Yeah, y'know, outside. How is it?" he repeated.

"Well… It's nice, but kind of cold."

"What's the cold like?"

Lucius sighed. "Right, you're a spirit or whatever. You don't feel temperature, do you?"

"Nope." Com answered.

Wheels began to turn in Lucius's head. "You can see me, right? Like, here, or when you were in the computer."

"Yeah, why?"

"Hmm…" With a determined pump of his arms, he declared, "I'm going to find a way to take you outside so you can see the world!"

"Aughhh…" The Playwright groaned, pressing his head into his intertwined arms. "Ahhhh!" '

The Architect, lounging comfortably on a couch on the other side of the room, looked up from her book, rolling her eyes. "What now?"

"I wanna see my plays performed!" he complained, raising up and gesturing to the piles upon piles of books, journals, and notes, all filled with his numerous plays & performances he had written over the years. "I joined here thinking I'd get to actually use them for something! If only I could see them on stage…"

The Architect murmured under her breath and went back to reading her book, but was quickly interrupted by a loud sigh.

"If only…"

A few quiet seconds passed.

"If only-"

"Okay, cut the bullshit!" The Architect yelled, throwing her book to the ground and standing up. "What do you want?"

"W- what do you mean?" With a sudden change of demeanor, he looked up and clasped his hands together, his blue eyes glistening. "I don't want anything."

"You're trying to get me to do something for you, aren't you?" Her eyes narrowed in on The Playwright with a threatening gaze.

"No, no!" The Playwright's face went red as he raised his hands and surrendered. "Definitely not!"

The Architect glared for a few seconds longer, then sighed, defeated. "Fine." Walking over to her desk, she took out a few long sheets of paper. The Playwright rushed over by her, watching as she pulled out a fountain pen and slashed it across the papers.

A grin was plastered over his face as he saw blueprints flash upon them. "This is perfect!" He squealed in glee. "My own theatre! Thank you, friend!"

His arms squeezed around The Architect, who looked rather uncomfortable. "You're welcome, buddy…"

"I've got it!" Lucius exclaimed, bursting through the Starlow Grocery doors. In his hand was a small wireless speaker along with its charger. "If you come in here, maybe I can take you outside!" The speaker dinged as he plugged it into the charger.

"Ah, I can try, one second. I just have to go over and…" Com's voice fizzled out, replaced by a short bout of static.

Lucius sat in silence, staring at the speaker. D- did he make it? Holding his breath, he waited.

And waited.

And wai-

"Hey!" Com exclaimed from the speaker, apologizing. "Sorry about that, I got a bit lost."

Lucius exhaled in relief. "Alright, good, good. But here's the moment of truth." Reaching his hand around the speaker, he unplugged the charger. "Still there?"

"Yep, what-"

Com was cut off by Lucius, who was loudly celebrating."Yes!" he grinned, running over to the door. "Now, lets go do somethin', eh?"

For once in his electrical life, Com felt exceptionally cheerful. "I've always wanted to see the moon."

With a small wave of his hammer, the Builder bought the theatre into existence. It was gigantic, with long, red pillars at the top of a long staircase, leading to an exquisitely decorated pair of double-doors. The Playwright just about swelled up with tears, smiling. "It's beautiful! Thank you so much!"

"No big deal," The Builder said, shrugging him off. "But, I get to design sets for your first show."

"You know, I was going to ask you to even if you didn't offer." The Playwright giggled. "We don't exactly have a 'Set Designer,' do we?"

"Guess we need to recruit them!" He joked as he began to trek up the stairs, The Playwright following closely behind. "Anyways, do you have anything planned?"

"Of course, I just need to find which play I want performed first," His hand rose up as he counted on his fingers. "Then I imagine The Actor & Actress will be at each other's throats to be the main character. Other than that, I think I can pester some Workers to try out for minor roles. As for technical aspects, The Lighter is pretty thrilled to join."

As they reached the end of the staircase, The Builder turned around, his eyebrows raised. "The Lighter? That pyromaniac?"

"Yep! He may like burning stuff, but he's actually incredibly talented at lighting design too. He really knows his stuff, trust me." The Playwright looked up in awe at the flashy luminescence of the theatre, further illuminated by the moon.

"Alright, but if this theatre gets burned down, I'm not rebuilding it. It takes far too much energy…"

"You won't have to, I promise." He looked over at The Builder. "Hey, can you add one more thing?"

"Sure… What do you want?"

"Just…" He took a step back, further admiring the breathtaking structure. But, he noticed something was missing. "A sign, right across the pillars. Sloth's Pit Theatre."

The Builder laughed. "Alright, but…" He took his hammer and tossed it into the air above him. It twirled in the wind, a lustrous radiance emanating from its head as it reached the crown of its arc. Then, as quickly as it rose, it fell, growing in brightness as it was caught in The Builder's hand. He slashed it upwards, taking the energy and shooting it into the sky.

The Playwright watched the energy sparkle and gleam as it floated off into the wind. When he looked back at the theatre, a glimmering sign was there, held up by a short length of silver chains.

"I like to be a bit stylish with my magic, sometimes."

"You're a dork," The Playwright giggled, playfully punching The Builder's shoulder. "I love it, though."

Lucius sat on a lone stump in the forest, Com at his side. They looked up through the trees at the shining full moon in silence.

"You know…" Lucius raised a hand up to his hair, which was blowing in the light breeze. "I've been so busy…"

"Well, this weird stuff is a lot to deal with." Com crackled quietly.

"True," Lucius chuckled softly. "But I've been so distracted by rent and the store and that Stocker that I haven't taken the time to just… Relax."

"I'm glad I could take you on a little vacation, then. I'm liking this too. The moon is so beautiful…"

"It really is… It's like I could just reach out and…" Lucius raised a hand up to the sky, covering up the moon and 'grabbing it' before dropping his hand back down.

They watched in silence for a few minutes longer.

"Ah, it's getting pretty late, we should probably go back to the store." Com said, breaking the silence.

Lucius scooped him up, starting his walk out of the forest. He felt the leaves crackle below his feet, a distant caw of an owl catching his attention. "I think I'm going the wrong way…"

"Are you sure?" Com asked.

"Yeah, I…" Lucius looked around, sighing. "I'm lost. Don't worry though, I can just track my way back and start from-" He turned, looking for a trail of displaced leaves, only to find nothing. "Oh no…"


"Lost…" He groaned, picking a random direction and walking forward.

After a long trek through the forest, The Builder and The Playwright finally reached The Union House. The Playwright frantically patted his pockets down, looking for his key. "Ugh, did I forget it?"

"Really? I didn't bring mine either!" The Builder exclaimed, panicking, but stopping himself quickly. "Wait, wait, I think there's a key hidden out here." He lifted up the milk crate by the door, digging through the mud below. "Gross," he grimaced, pulling a rusty old key out of the hole, flicking it to open the door before dropping it back down, pushing the milk crate back over it.

While The Builder walked straight through the door, The Playwright hesitated, turning around. "Wait, I could have sworn I heard a something just then…" Off in the forest, a bush was shaking. He snuck towards it, peeking over the bushes to see a man holding a speaker looking up at him, covering his mouth.

He quickly tore his hand away and screamed.

The Playwright recoiled, falling in the leaves below him. "Jesus!" The Builder ran back out, helping him to his feet. "Who are you?!"

The man rose up, his face red. A voice came from the speaker in his hand, "I'm just walking by, ha ha!" He looked down at the speaker, cringing at the pair of wide-eyed Workers.

"Wait a second! You're that guy!" The Builder sputtered, pointing at the speaker. "The guy who got stuck in the grocery store, right?"

"What-" The speaker stuttered. "What do you mean?"

"Yeah, yeah," The Playwright snapped his fingers. "You're The Stocker's ex or something!"

Suddenly, the man holding the speaker blurted out, "No, he isn't! A- are you?"

"No!" The speaker denied before questioning, "Am I, Lucius!?"

"I don't-"

Rudely interrupting his reply, The Builder pointed again, this time at the man. "You're Lucius? Dude, The Stocker, like, hates your guts!"

"Yeah!" The Playwright confirmed, "You should've seen her a few days ago, she was fuming! Said you were waiting for her or somethin' and you stirred up some bad memories."

Overwhelmed, the speaker stuttered. "W- wait am I her ex?!"

"You're somethin' to her." The Builder said, crossing his arms with a mischievous grin. "And I kinda want to find out."

The Playwright gasped, exclaiming, "I've got an idea! Are you guys any good at acting?"

Lucius blushed. "N- no. I've got pretty bad stage fright…"

In his hand, the speaker spoke. "I guess I can act, but-"

"Great!" The Playwright took out a clipboard and a pen, scrawling down a few notes. "Lucius, you can just be a stagehand, and speaker dude can do some kind of voice-over. Just go to the new theatre tomorrow, I think it's a few blocks down from your store."

"Wait, we haven't even agreed to this!" Lucius protested as The Builder turned him around, pushing him into the woods. He stumbled, "Stop that, we-" turning around, he saw nothing but trees. Sighing, he muttered, "Screw this forest…"

The Stocker was quietly humming to herself, cleaning off her ruler, when suddenly she heard a small ding from the elevator, telling her that someone was coming up. Using her hand, she brushed her messy hair back, making herself at least somewhat presentable.

"Hello!" A cheery voice rang from the elevator as it opened, revealing The Playwright. The Stocker sighed.


The Playwright scratched his neck, his smile growing larger. "Well, I was just wondering if-"

"No." She quickly interrupted.

"Hey, you don't even know what I'm asking!"

"It's gonna be something annoying," The Stocker took her ruler and poked him in the chest. "Get out."

"Hey!" The Playwright exclaimed, jumping back and looping around behind her. "Okay, okay, let's be reasonable here."

"What do you mean reasonable?" She mocked, turning around.

"You do this one thing for me and I'll never bother you again! Never!"

The Stocker paused, dropping her Charm to her side with a sigh. "I'll bite. What do you want?"

"Just be a part of my next play."

She frowned, tucking her ruler away.


Her frown weakened as she clenched her teeth together, resisting The Playwright's puppydog-like begging.


She broke. "Fine!"

"Thank you thank you thank you!" The Playwright bounced up and down with enthusiasm before skittering back to the elevator. "Come to the new theatre tomorrow!" He said as the doors closed, leaving The Stocker alone in her room.

"I really have to stop letting him get his way…" she muttered under her breath.

"We should really just not go. It's not like they're making us."

Com, who was sat snugly in Lucius's coat pocket, whined from his speaker, "But I wanna go! I'm curious! And they don't think I'm weird!"

"Alright, alright," Lucius shrugged, making a sharp turn around the corner, his eyes on the ground. "But it'll probably end up bad, I mean, when do we even have a-" His eyes drifted upwards, trailing up a long stairwell to the massive theatre before him. "Oh."

"I'm guessing that's new?" Com asked.

"Definitely new. How did they even build this so fast?!" Lucius exclaimed. "And why are there so many stairs?!"

Even with a small touch of static, Lucius could still make out the snarky tone of Com's voice. "Good thing I don't have to walk up them."

Lucius simply sighed and began his journey upwards.

Running through his theatre, The Playwright was frantically writing on his clipboard. "Builder?"

The Builder looked over from the top of a large stack of lumber, grinning, "Here!"

"Good, good…" He sprinted off to the booth, where The Lighter was curled up under a blanket, shivering.

He looked over, his teeth chattering. "H-h-here."

"Great, amazing!" With a final check on his clipboard, he twirled out of the booth, skipping to his desk that was in the middle of a large stage.

A loud shout echoed through the theatre. "No! I wanna be Cyrus! His role was practically written for me!"

The Playwright looked up, setting his clipboard down.

"Cyrus is a boy! I'm a boy! You can't be him!"

With a short sigh, The Playwright called them over. "Actor. Actress. Stop arguing and get over here…"

In a flash, the pair of arguing twins shut up and stood at The Playwright's desk, staring at him intently.

"Well, I was thinking that you," He pointed at The Actress, "could be Queen Rem."

The Actress instantly shot into a long rant, clearly furious at the suggestion. "No way! Queen Rem isn't even interesting! She's so transparent, her arc is nonexistent, and her motivations are stupid! I should clearly be-"

The Playwright interrupted her with a loud, "Shush!" before turning to The Actor. "You can be Cyrus, you're a good fit for him."

The Actress glared at him as The Actor stuck his tongue out, teasing her. "Fine, he can be Cyrus! I don't even care!"

"You do." The Actor argued, "Otherwise you wouldn't make it a big deal."

Blushing, The Actress crossed her arms, frustratedly changing the topic. "Whatever. I get to be Sophia then."

"Sure, sure, but you have to wear a wig. Sophia has to have black hair, it represents the differences between her and Cyrus."

"Sure, okay, whatever!" The Actress groaned, stomping away. Raising his eyebrow, The Playwright jerked his head towards her while looking at The Actor. Thankfully, he took the cue and ran after her.

Who else… The Playwright thought, peeking at his clipboard with a smile. Right! The Starlow pair and The Stocker. "Ah, speak of the devil!" He looked up just in time to see Lucius enter, a speaker in his pocket. "Lucius! Come here!"

Lucius hesitantly walked over to the stage, looking around at the exquisite theatre around him.

"How do you like it?" The Playwright asked.

"It looks… Expensive." He said, grimacing.

"It wasn't. Anyways, you have your little friend with you, correct?"

"Yep!" Com crackled, his voice overflowing with enthusiasm. "What's my job!? I wanna do something!"

"Ah, your job is…" The Playwright nervously glanced around the theatre. Dammit, she isn't here yet… "Your job is to go around and introduce yourself to everyone."

"Yay!" he instantly crackled back, exclaiming, "Let's go Lucius, let's go!"

His expression softening, Lucius looked down at the speaker in his pocket with a warm smile. "Yeah, let's go."

They wandered backstage, where The Builder was sat upon his throne of lumber, a drill in his hand. He raised it up, pressing down on the trigger, spinning the drill's square bit. Flinching away, he quickly relaxed and attempted to press the screw into the still-spinning bit. Right when the screw touched the bit, it was sent flying, whizzing right past Lucius's face.

"Oh, hey Lucius! I don't think we've uh, formally met."

Lucius gulped and approached the pile with his hand outstretched, which The Builder grabbed and shook. "Nice to meet you."

Com echoed, "Nice to meet you, Builder!"

The Builder chuckled, "I'll be setting up all the sets, props, and the like," for a moment, his eyes lit up, "Oh, have you met The Lighter? You should go say hi, he's actually pretty nice."

"S- sure… Where is-"

"The booth, way back there," The Builder grinned. "Good luck!"

Under his blanket, The Lighter shivered.

So cold…

He reached into his pocket.


He pulled out his lighter.

Just a little spark…

The door to the booth opened, and he quickly tucked his lighter away, looking up at the new visitor. "H-hello," his teeth chattered as he reached towards the man, "I'm T-The Lighter."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Lucius," Lucius said, taking his hand, but quickly recoiling at his cold touch. "W-wow, that's um… Are you okay?"

The Lighter tried to smile, but he probably just looked miserable. "Y- yes…"

"Well, this is Com!" He pointed at the speaker in his coat pocket.

"Hi!" Com crackled.

"Hello, c-c-Com…"

They stood in silence, until Com— who probably thought he was being quieter than he actually was— 'whispered,' "this guy is kinda strange…"

The Lighter frowned, and Lucius took it as a cue to get a move on and leave him alone. "You can't just say that stuff," he whispered— in an actual quiet volume— to Com as he strolled out of the booth, closing the door behind him, "You know he heard you, right?"

"He did?"

"Yeah, and-"

Lucius looked up, pausing his speech as he made eye contact with The Stocker, who was staring at him from the theatre doors, appalled. "Why are you here?!"

"I, uh-" he stuttered. "Am going to be in the play…"

The Stocker's eyes widened as they drifted to the speaker in his pocket. "No!" she exclaimed, turning around, only to see that The Playwright was there, blocking her from leaving.

The Builder pushed Lucius forward, chuckling. "You three are all going to be good friends by the end of this show!"

//Oh God," they both thought.

The Stocker grumbled to herself, her arms crossed as she sat next to Lucius. They watched The Playwright as he held Com, swinging him around while dramatically spouting off his lines.



"Come on, I don't get why you don't—"

"Quiet." She mockingly sighed. "I know what he's trying to do. He's trying to make sure everyone ends up friendly friends who love and care about each other, but he doesn't get it!"

"You…" Lucius paused, thinking as he could feel tension pulling at his gut. "Look, I don't get what happened with you and him, but it's clear he doesn't remember you—"

"And he's probably going to be twice as worse as before."

"No, you just aren't giving him a chance."


"You know, when I first met him I didn't give him a chance either— but…" He felt a small tingle in his heart as he glanced over to The Stocker who was staring down at the floor, desperately trying to avoid eye contact. "When I did, um… I realized he's actually a pretty nice person."

"You didn't know him before."

"Then what did he do that was so bad? So bad that you won't even talk to him now?"

She didn't reply.

"Fine. But just so you know, there's a difference between being stubborn and being a jerk."

Lucius stood and climbed onto the stage, leaving The Stocker alone with her thoughts.

The Stocker stepped backstage, brushing her hair before grabbing her ruler and conjuring up a bottle of Weskint Brewery Orange Drink. Taking a swig, she—

"Oh, hi!"

That was the day The Stocker learned spit takes do happen in real life sometimes. A crackle came from Com's speaker, which was sat on a blue plastic chair next to her.

"Is that the Weskint Orange Drink? Lucious loves that stuff, you know."

She swallowed the little of what remained in her mouth from her spit take. "Cool."

A long silence ensued as The Stocker contemplated running away.

Finally breaking it, Com spoke. "Why do you hate me?"


"Do you have a reason?"

"Yes, obviously."

"Then why are you bothering to talk to me right now?"

"Well, I… I don't want to be friends with you. So you're going to have to live with that."

"Relax, I—"

"What's so special about me anyways?" The Stocker interrupted. "I'm just one person in this town, one fucking fish in this wretched sea, so why do I matter so much? Why do you have to be my friend?"

"Because I know I meant something to you, didn't I?"

"Who…" She gulped, then sniffled. "You didn't… I…"

"Hey, its—"

The Stocker ran off, leaving Com in the darkness.

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