[O, our poor, poor sacrificial godbuns in our toiling season

We gave our people ore to collect, mechanical objects to make their lives easy,

Various tools, more than they could ever need,

And, yet it's never enough. They keep asking for more, more, more. 

Always begging, never ending pleas.

The begs continue, they never end, in this painful sea.

The requests keep going and going.

Do this and that, please!

We do not comprehend the constant need for more and more

We can only do so much, there is only so much one can give

Yet, the mortals seem to think we are nothing more than a factory!

Please, divine above, we could use some more!

A little tinker here, a little tinker there, a little tinker everywhere!

Don't you see?

O, our poor, poor sacrificial godbuns

What's a deity to do,

When our people keep their greed going?

We ask our selves this question on the daily. 

And yet, the answer keeps breaking 

And has for countless centuries.

Innovation may be key,

But how are we supposed to keep up with the demands of thousands of pleas?

There's twenty of us, hundreds upon thousands of them

How are we supposed to keep up with thee?

The question has no answer as well,

The gears keeps spinning.

We tell our people they have enough tools

Stop asking for more, we plea

Yet this goes unheard,

They keep on asking!

Our, our poor, poor godbuns burning away in endless misery

What will it take for our people

To develop on their own independently?

They have the tools, they have the power,

When will they gain self sufficiency?

They can grow on their own

And, they choose to always beg and plead!

Please, o, please, divine above,

We need something that can till the fields.

Please, o, please, divine above,

We need a tool to fly to the sky!

One has wings, one has mystical powers,

And yet, these fact seem to go ignored.

Why can't they see?

They have their own solutions to their very needs!

We can provide some solutions,

But not every answer!

Don't you see?

The greed is drowning us daily!

O, our poor, poor godbuns suffocating with little air to breathe,

What can be done to change this never ending cycle of constant pressure to give into every little plea?

Our people need to learn

To gain self sufficiency! 

We can only do so much,

Yet it's never evough.

Why, o why, is this so?

We are at a loss on where to go.

In this season of constant scars burning,

Change needs to happen quickly!]

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Loud pounding noise disrupting the world around him, the bun rubbed his eyes. Ugh, what time is it? Oh, it's the sixth hour already? Time sure goes by fast. Yawn, it's probably just the morning newspaper. Frosaro villagers still get that, right? Maybe. Forget that, not his problem. Those things are so last century, goodnight, zzz.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Patters continuing on the outside world, the young adult groaned. Alright, who's there, come on out! Maybe it was someone trying to interview him? Nah, who would even watch that? Sorry, no comment, he's got nothing to say to a bunch of buns with cameras for days! Pulling his ears down, the bun closed his eyes. Goodnight again, zzz.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Disruptive racket keeping itself going, the bun flapped upward. Alright, alright, fine, he's coming. Who could possibly be here this early in the morning? If it's the godbuns, they can forget having a nice little chitchat with him, sorry! Hopping towards the door, a surprise soon waited for him on the opposite end.

Familiar purple haired middle aged bun waiting for him at the entrance, the vampa almost fell backwards. Mama's here?! When did she hop over to Frosaro? He could have sworn he hadn't seen her in the audience when he was fighting Agitated Rat yesterday. Maybe she just showed up today? Perhaps that was the case. Reaching for the Talkmaster B, the bun turned the knobs with a fury.

Little bun drawn, the young adult shook the device. Wouldn't that come off a little too strong if he opened with that? He needed to draw something else instead. How about a sun? That will do, maybe. Scribbling away, a question mark had been added. Robotic voice ready to read out, the bun wondered. Could he have just not seen her in the crowd yesterday? Should he ask about that? No, what good would that do?

[Good morning, Mama. When did you get here? My first match in the Mystic Carrot Bowl was yesterday, you know!] A crackling voice exclaimed through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"I know, honey, I texted you to tell you I'd come and watch from your second match onward! Didn't you read them?" mama asked.

Texts brought to his attention, the bun sighed. When was the last time he turned on his phone? Ah, forget it, he can't remember the last time he did. Ah, well, at least she's here now. But, would she really stay for the rest of the Mystic Carrot Bowl. Probably not. He guesses he'll find out in the coming days? Weeks? Who knows how long this competition might last.

[Sorry, guess I didn't see them!] A crackling voice exclaimed through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"That's okay, honey, no need to apologize!" mama cried. "There's still a while before your second match, why don't we go out for lunch and catch up?"

Invitation coming his way, the bun placed his finger on his chin. Going out for lunch? Would he really have time for that? Oh, no, what if the godbuns are going to make him do a job for them in order to compete in the second round of the Mystic Carrot Bowl? No, no, Siorc, happy thoughts! There's no way they're going to do that! Surely, he's plaything free until further notice.

[Sure, where to? And, when do you want to go?] A crackling voice asked through toe Talkmaster B's speakers.

"How about the Golden Lettuce Bowl around noon?" mama asked. "Why don't you invite your friends to come with you, too?"

Golden Lettuce Bowl brought to his attention, the bun stared off into space. Hold on a second, wasn't that one of the ritziest restaurants in all of Frosaro?! At least, that's what Susu told him. Should he really go to a place like that? Maybe he should decline. But, what chance would he have to be with mama again? Before he knows it, she'll be back at the capitol forever. Why miss this opportunity?

[That's fine with me. But, are you sure, mama? Isn't that place super expensive? I don't have much money on me, you know!] A crackling voice said through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"Oh, don't worry about paying, I'll take care of everything!" mama cried, hands slapped together. "So, we got a deal, then?"

[Yes, see you at noon.] A crackling voice said through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"See you at noon!" She waved farewell.

Slam.

Door closed behind him, the farmer slid onto the floor. The Golden Lettuce Bowl, of all places? He's so going to stick out there! Should he text her and tell her to forget it? No, what kind of bun would he be if he cancelled moments later? It would be fine, surely. And, besides, when was the last time mama and he spent time together? Ah, forget it, his brain is full of static.

Letting out another yawn, the bun hopped back into the guest bed. Groan, it's way too early for this. Can he sleep until next week? Feeling himself about ready to drop back into the dream world, the young adult curled up into a ball beneath the covers. Zzz, goodnight world, once again, wake him up when the work bell rings.

Ring, ring, ring, ring!

It's the eighth hour.

It's the eighth hour.

Work time, work time! All morning shift LopVampas, head to your stations immediately.

Knock, knock, knock, knock

Waking once again, the young adult let out a groan. Who could possibly be at the door now? If the godbuns have a job for him, they can forget it. Sorry, he's taking a vacation. Give him work to do after the Mystic Carrot Bowl! Or, how about never? Please, fire him already! Maybe he should use his wish to have his job ceremony redone instead. No, no, Siorc, not happening! Why waste it on that? He'll get fired this time, for sure.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Pounds on the outside soon continuing, the farmer flapped upward. Alright, fine, he's coming! Listen up, godbuns, if they're the ones out there, they can consider him off duty until further notice! Consider the little plaything in need of repairs for the rest of eternity! Twisting the nob, the bun crossed his fingers.

"Good morning, Siorc," Zhulong greeted, yawning.

"Good morning, Siorc," Niquel greeted, also yawning.

[Good morning Zhulong and Niquel. Mama wants you to come to the Golden Lettuce Bowl at noon.] A crackling voice said through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"We know, she texted us about it," Zhulong responded. "We just came here to ask you something."

Serious look on his friend's faces, the bun placed his finger on his chin. What's going on? Why do these two look like they saw something they shouldn't have? Should he ask about it? No, why get up in his friend's business where it didn't belong? Reaching for the knobs once again, the bun scribbled away.

Small circle drawn on the screen, a crude finger had been added to the mix. Shaking the device, the vampa groaned. Why are his lines all over the place? Come on. Trying again, he blinked. Is he already asking too much? Maybe he is. Two hands clapped together added as well, the young adult swore he could hear trouble somewhere off in the distance.

[What did you want to ask me about? Did something happen to you two? Did you two see some godbun secrets or something? Sorry, maybe I shouldn't get up in your business!] A crackling voice said through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"No, nothing like that. I'm pretty sure if the godbun's secrets leaked, it'd be all over the news," Niquel said, shaking her head. "We just wanted to ask you about the Mystic Carrot Bowl."

Mystic Carrot Bowl brought to his attention, the bun's ears twitched. Oh, no, are they going to ask him if he thinks it's rigged? Is he about to told they both told him so? No, why would these two say that to him? Come on, Siorc, happy thoughts! Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for the pitfall ready to eat him.

[What did you two want to ask me about?] A crackling voice asked through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"Do you still want to keep going with the Mystic Carrot Bowl?" Zhulong asked. "We saw your first match, and to be honest, it was pretty fishy."

"We know you want to win and all that, but don't you think there was something off about your first match?" Niquel asked. "I know we already warned you the Mystic Carrot Bowl might be rigged and all that, and we won't try to stop you if you want to continue, but even still. There is something off about this whole thing."

First match brought to his attention, the bun held in the urge to sigh. Was it really that fishy? Maybe Agitated Rat just decided to go easy on him. Or, not. Who knows? How is he supposed to know what another bun is thinking? Should he back out of this competition? Perhaps he should consider that option for the time being.

But, the vampa shook his head at such. Back out after the first round? No way, why would he do that? That's probably what the godbuns want him to do! Right, of course, what's the point of bending to their will? Surely, he can win this fair and square somehow; there's no way he can hop out now. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for more warnings at any given moment.

[I don't know, maybe Agitated Rat decided to go easy on me? I'd like to continue for now. Besides, there's no guarantee I'll win the second round, too.] A crackling voice said through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"Maybe you're right about that, but I'd still be cautious," Zhulong said in a serious tone. "You never know what the Godbuns might have up their sleeve this time."

"If you want to continue competing, I won't stop you," Niquel said, arms crossed. "But, do be careful. Expect the worst today." She then yawned. "I have a job to do at some club. We'll see you later."

Friends leaving, the farmer hopped around in a circle. What if the Mystic Carrot Bowl was rigged? Should he tell someone about it? But, the vampa shook his head. Who is there to tell? Maybe he should ask what some of the residents think? Leaving his temporary accommodations behind, the bun cracked his knuckles. Should he head for Tundrabu's temple and ask around there? Maybe he should start there.

Reaching the familiar temple, a world of silence soon awaited him. Not a single soul stirring, the bun blinked. Hold on a second, where is everyone? Why does this place feel like it's been devoid of life for awhile? Turning around, the bun kept moving. Maybe he should head somewhere else. But, where?

Finding a park, the bun stared off into space. Is it just him, or had Frosaro been even more empty than before? No, come on, it's just his imagination. It's still early in the morning, right. Maybe he should have waited. Ready to turn around, a familiar face soon caught his attention off in the corner for a brief moment.

Marble with an axe in her hand off in the distance, the farmer made a hop for it. Finally, a soul! Or, maybe he had been seeing things? No, no, Siorc, come on now, why would that be the case? It's not like there were any ghosts here, or anything. Eyes soon on him, he swore an annoyed look painted her face.

"Huh? Siorc, what are you doing here?" Marble asked. "Could you wait a second, I'm in the middle of something here." She then flew upward. "What do I have to shout at a time like this? Oh, right, Timber!"

Boom.

Tree ready to tilt forward, the young adult flapped upward. Ambees flying out one after another, the bun flew further away. Gah, maybe he shouldn't have come this way after all. Here they come, any second now, and they're going to come in for the kill! But, as he thought such, a loud scream made them crumble into nothing, in an instant.

"That should be the last one," Marble said, huffing as she landed back onto the ground. "What is it? What do you need from me?"

Question coming his way, the bun wondered. Should he even waste his time asking Marble if she thought the Mystic Carrot Bowl was rigged? Maybe he should just leave and ask someone else. No, no, it's fine, just get it over with. Scribbling away, the bun closed his eyes. Please, let this come out right.

[I just have a question for you, is all. Do you think the Mystic Carrot Bowl is rigged?] A crackling voice asked through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"I don't know why you're asking me that, I don't watch the Mystic Carrot Bowl," Marble said, arms crossed. "Sorry, I don't know. And, honestly, I wouldn't waste my time asking any of the residents here either. We've got a lot of work on our hands today."

[Sorry, I hope I didn't bother you.] A crackling voice said through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," Marble responded, shaking her head. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more trees to chop."

Returning to his hotel room for the time being, the bun sighed. He shouldn't have wasted his time looking for the locals. Turning on the boob tube, the vampa zoned out as an old cartoon played.