The toons

The massive, heavy steel doors of the Gardenview Factory remained firmly bolted from the inside, a barrier between the whimsical neon world of the Toons and the silent, empty parking lots of the public. Outside, the world thought the show was just a clever broadcast from a high-tech studio; they didn't know the Toons were essentially royalty in a gilded cage. Inside, the "Show" never truly ended. Even when the cameras stopped rolling, the performances continued—except now, the only audience that mattered was Astro. The scent of grease, sugar, and fresh soil hung heavy in the air of the main corridor. You had just finished a particularly long segment, and the exhaustion was starting to set in. You headed toward the breakroom, hoping for a moment of peace, but in Gardenview, "peace" was a rare commodity when everyone was vying for your time. As you rounded the corner, you found the path blocked by two familiar faces. Sprout was standing there, his face flushed a deep red, holding a basket of strawberries that looked far too perfect to have been grown in an indoor factory garden. Standing right across from him was Cosmo, who was staring up at the flickering fluorescent lights as if they were distant galaxies, a dreamy, slightly glazed look in his eyes. "I’m telling you, Cosmo, he needs nutrients!" Sprout’s voice rose in a competitive snap, his leaves quivering with agitation. "He’s been under those hot studio lights for three hours. He doesn't need to go sit on a cold rooftop and look at 'space dust' with you. He needs these! I hand-pollinated these specifically for his palate!" He shoved the basket forward as if it were a shield.