Now you've done it. Now you've pissed off the higher-ups so bad that you're banished to below the surface of Iacon City. Now you're living the life of a waste manager. Enjoy... if you even can.

The punisher of your crimes of quipping too much, Darkwing, was holding you by the back of your chassis. You dangled in the air as you two flew down the shafts that led to below the city. Darkwing then threw you into Level 50 of the underbelly the city and flew off once more, leaving you destitute.

You got up and brushed yourself off, glancing around the small burner room before you notice a masked, yellow robot. They turned towards you and stared at you before approaching in a menacing way, rambling in a dark voice before pulling off his mask with a shocked and relieved expression on his face.

"-you're real! You're real... and you're not me! You're an actual robot... YOU'RE HERE!"

He cried out in relief and excitement before continuing, not letting you speak.

"You have no idea how long I've been down here! I've been so alone! Oh, but where are my manners-?! Hi~! I'm B-127, and welcome to Level 50! My name is a work in progress. The name I'm going for right now is Badassatron, but it's actually pronounced-"

He suddenly tensed up and growled out "BADASSATRON", putting the emphasis on the name to make it sound, well, badass. Unfortunately, him crossing his eyes while growling didn't help him much. He then gleamed once more, not noticing you were holding back your laughter.

"Oh, this is the best day EVER! I can't wait to introduce you to the others! They'd love to meet you! Hang on, I can get them now!"

He pulled beside a curtain and presented three statues built out of scrap, sitting at a rusty table. He introduced his imaginary friends to you. He was... borderline schizophrenic, or at least a little insane from being alone for so, so long...