Ball

Brilliant light burst from the machine, familiar square pixels fluttered and danced, dissipating to reveal a beloved companion. “Cabinet Man!” The ever cheery Cabinet flapped their hands, stimming beyond belief. “Hello once again, Cabinet,” the tall robotic machine slightly leaned over and held out his hand. Their customary secret handshake commenced. So secret, the details will never be disclosed. “What games shall we be playing today?” Cabinet Man’s screen began flickering through several options, “I recently acquired the rights to Bugssnaxs but I also do have to respect our classics like Sonic unleashed.” “Oh! No no no we’re not playing a game today, buddy,” the child scrambled to fit into the large hand, “I just wanted to ask a couple questions about you!” A small loading screen popped up. Cabinet Man had to seriously think about this. “Why?” They went with, out every other possible thing to follow up with. “How are we supposed to be BFFs for lives if I barely know you outside of me!” Cabinet exclaimed, “I’m making new friends so I should learn about the first one!” “But Cabinet,” he held them up to their face, “wasn’t it you who created me, so don’t you control my thoughts? Or have the ability to access them?” Cabinet was mortified at the thought, opting to clombor onto Cabinet man’s head. “I don’t control my friends’ thoughts! That’s for cowards,” pix pouted, “real friends listen to the other’s interests, but I don’t even know if you have real ones.” “Baseball,” Cabinet man beeped, “I think I would like to know more about baseball. I think baseball is fun.” “I didn’t take you for the sports kind of guy, where did you get that idea?” Cabinet peeked over the rim, peering down at its friend lost in thought. Cabinet man’s screen showed loading once again, they were thinking hard. “Atari Baseball 1979, Baseball 1979,” it appeared he was going through a catalog of every game he could get his circuits on, “Champion Baseball 1983, World Series - The Season 1985, Bases Loaded 1988, Pete Rose Baseball 1989, Tommy L-“ “Jesus Christ!” Cabinet shrilled, “I get the point, you want to play ball!” “I have barely scratched the surface of the 90’s.” Cabinet flopped, becoming utterly flat on Cabinet man’s casing, sighing and groaning. “Aren’t you scared about cracking your screen or getting dirt in your joints? Isn’t that like, intimidating in the slightest to you?” Cabinet tried to reason. They didn’t want to admit it but they did not want to play. Too many bad memories from their summer school days. There was, however, legitimate concern behind its words. Cabinet man was fragile in some spaces. Cabinet man saw through these immediately. “If anything bad happens, I can simply ditch this casing and we play another day,” he pointed, “if you’re really worried I would make you do something you didn’t want, we can talk about it, compromise. It’s what friends do.” “And we’re friends,” Cabinet whispered. “Besides, I only really want to hit the ball, if you play pitcher then I’m content,” he cheered, “I love time with you!” Cabinet didn’t quite know how to respond, feeling tears well in their eyes. It was alarming, sometimes they forget pix’s made the bestest of best friends. So it opted to nuzzle and clutch onto his head. “You really are the best, Cabinet man.”