"About time you got over here," Snowball remarked when Tattoo came into the living room sometime later that day. The tattooed pig had purple lines around his bloodshot eyes and the little hair he had on his head was unkempt. His tanktop was a bit wrinkled and the pockets on his shorts were hanging out. It was obvious that he had come over as fast as he could. Hurrying over to the rabbit, the pig exclaimed, "Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine, see?" Snowball replied, waving a paw casually. Sitting up on the couch where he had been taking a little nap, he yawned and asked, "What took you so long?" Taking a seat in a chair while Plato and Pops came out with some snacks, Tattoo explained, "After you called this morning, I decided to go over to the penthouse. I managed to get pass the police without them noticing," Plato frowned at that part, "And well... I found this." Reaching into the backpack he had brought along, the pig pulled out a plastic bag. He quietly took a black box out while everyone watched. Though it seemed a little scorched, it was still in good shape. Staring at it, Snowball asked, "This is from one of the robots, isn't it?" Tattoo nodded his head.

"Well, let's see if this thing still plays," Plato commented.

Seven Minutes Later...

Snowball got as comfortable on the couch as he possibly could while Tattoo took a seat on the floor. Plato stood behind the couch while Pops sat in his chair, drinking some tea. All eyes were focused on the radio that they had put the black box disc inside. They waited patiently for the recording to play. After a bit of static, they all could hear some dialogue. Snowball instantly recognized Ratchet's voice as the bulldog spoke, "There we are. The finishing touch."

"Hey Ratchet!" a stranger called.

"What's up Doc?"

"Not much except I got the money ya need right here."

"Thank you."

"No problem. How are we looking here?"

"I've made over a thousand by now.."

"In the ten hours since I left? That's amazing. You have a talent."

"Thanks. I can't wait to test these babies out."

"Remember what I said..."

"I know. New York City first, then the world."

Laughter.

"They're gonna take over the world?!" Tattoo exclaimed once the recording stopped. Pops rubbed his forehead worriedly while Plato shook his head in disbelief. Snowball leaned back against the couch, his blue eyes looking towards the ceiling. Biting his lip, he tried to think of something, anything, that could stop what would eventually be coming his way. However, nothing came to his mind. Huffing, he glumly looked down at his paws to see that they were slightly glowing orange from frustration. A lightbulb popped up over his head. "Plato, you remember when you told me about the... others? Like me?" he asked. Lifting his gaze, the bloodhound murmured, "Yeah, why?"

Looking Plato in the eye, Snowball went on, "Cuz we're gonna need all the help we can get."