PART TWO

*Alarm Sound*

“Oh no — an alarm! We must do something! We have to get out!” Safety Clip shouts as he scuttles about the bench in utter panic.

“Why? If we leave now, we’d never have the chance to be turned back into what we once were,” Paper Pin explains.

Entering the laboratory in which S.C. and P.P. are hiding, or more precisely, standing at the rear the semi-transparent beaker, is the evil Mad Scientist. His hushed search for the stationary and embroidery objects commence, for his experimentation was not yet concluded.
In lack of a brain, P.P. by some means unintentionally knocks the outsized beaker onto the floor, shattering to pieces, allowing Mad Scientist to pinpoint their thereabouts.

“Aha!” Mad Scientist saunters over to where S.C. and P.P. now stood bare. With a devious look, he takes hold of them and tosses their metal bodies into a plastic container originally intended to store kitchen supplies. Between you and me, he was once formally a master criminal in the kitchen.

Glancing around hesitantly, S.C. whispers, “What’s he going to do to us?”

“Another prisoner to his awaiting,” mocks a strange voice in the shadows of the insolation cell.

S.C. and P.P. jump at the sound of that additional voice; apparently they were not alone.

PART ONE

Our story begins in OfficeWorks, an uneventful town situated some place on the little continent of Australia.
As it happens, this story involves a safety-pin and a paperclip, both rather dully coloured in grey, and bigger than average in an entirely non-offensive way. Of course, these two central characters are, and once were, actual human beings, who — as some just cause set by the evil Mad Scientist and in some way is quite colourful — were metamorphosed into these minutely-sized stationary objects.
But how, you may say, does an event akin to this may come to pass? Easily answered is the fact that Mad Scientist happens to be the owner of a lab ray, one he constantly uses for personal purposes.

“Arg, what am I?!” Safety Clip poses in a way that doesn’t anticipate confusion.

Paper Pin replies with a semi-mocking gesture, “Haw-haw, some sort of deranged metal wire.”

“Are you talking about yourself?” This, S.C says whilst scrutinising itself out in the nearest glass beaker.

“What?” P.P jumps back at this statement, examining its current retarded body structure. “I’m a —”

That’s right, S.C and P.P at this moment happen to be metal objects — a safety pin and paper clip to be precise.
Most recently, the sport of transformation into unliving objects has been quite a vogue indeed. Take that rather unattractive guy from Foo for instance — he’s a toothpick.
Now, I must certainly bring to a halt my blathering and continue this epic story that will unravel throughout the various episodes that pursue, but alas, time is running out; S.C and P.P see themselves in mass danger as an unanticipated security alarm combusts ...

Tick Tock.