Pretending to be Mike generally sucked.

Maybe that was why Battat was always in a shitty mood. Though, that was probably because of the sleepless nights spent drowning himself in theories and the disrespect from most others in the TV Time studio. It was likely also because he just hated the job.

However, putting on the suit and fake Mike head and prancing around, pretending to be this cheery, uplifting assistant for Mr. Tenna had to take the cake as the most stressful duty of his. It was imperative that the TV never found out about the secret that Mike wasn't real at all, and Battat had come so close to slipping up so many times that, if he had a Point for each time, he'd be able to buy the studio out of TV dinners.

There was a reason why he hadn't collapsed yet. A reason in the form of two other employees that had stepped up to lift some of the pressure off of his shoulders a very long time ago. They were so close to him that he could even refer to the two as his...erm..."partners" (it felt weird to think about).

Jongler, the strong and slightly dull Zapper. They'd been the one to propose the idea of having three Mikes originally, unable to watch the little Pippins deteriorate any further. How they found out about the fact that it was just Battat pretending in the first place, it was unsure — or just forgotten — but they were insistent enough to make him cave.

Pluey, the wordless and optimistic Shadowguy. He'd somehow been even more supportive and excited about the idea than Jongler had been, shaking Battat's shoulders and making all sorts of jazz-like noises. God, he even made a Mike design for himself and presented it to the other two with such a big smile and a hopeful lilt that they hadn't been able to refuse him.

Together, the three "Mikes" were unstoppable. The amount of conflicts that they had weekly was a towering number, I'll admit, but they never split apart. When one was down, the other two tried their best to comfort them, even if a certain someone didn't put in quite as much comforting effort as the others. The bond between them all was special in a way that nobody else could understand.

It showed on days like this.

Night — or, what could be considered night down here — had fallen a long time ago, but the work hadn't ended. If anything, the TV Time studio had only slightly dimmed, employees continuing to bustle about in a frantic scramble to end their duties and get to rest.

Battat was one of them, but, luckily, he wasn't needed any longer today. After a grueling shift as Mike consisting of comforting Tenna through a mental breakdown, nearly losing his mask when he tripped over a pile of unkempt costumes, and stubbing his toe when carrying an oversized mug of coffee, he was ready to just— flop over and pass out.

Stepping through the entrance to the Mikes room, he was probably about to do just that, but he wasn't going to be allowed to. Almost immediately, Jongler was in front of him, peering down eyelessly in concern.

"There ya are, boss! We was wonderin' if ya would come back a'tall!"

Their hands reached out and snatched the mask off of Battat's head, abandoning it behind themself on the floor, before leaning down and clasping a hand on his shoulder. The line on their head, acting almost like a unibrow, was furrowed in concern for his well-being.

Behind them, there was a rustle of movement, and Pluey came traipsing out from the shadows — ironic for him being a Shadowguy. Silently, he came to a stop beside Battat and knelt down, checking his suit over for any tears or mistakes. A questioning jazz note escaped his throat, clearly equally as worried as the Zapper was.

One of his hands lifted and placed against the Pippins's back, rubbing it through the rounded suit, and both Pluey and Jongler shared a glance that only they seemed to understand between themselves. Probably some silent communication about their boss, and Jongler spoke up after, their voice softening.

"So, uhh...why don't'cha get yaself outta that suit, and we can set up the bed for ya real nice?"