The Cost of Justice

The Cost of Justice



    The tiny silver balls huddle together as they listen to the dreaded sound of the coins roll down into the bowels of the machine. Thump. Thump. Thump. The coins make a distinct thumping sound. When this sound enters the otherwise empty spaces of their minds, fear becomes their greatest emotion. The next person in line gets ready as the first ball braces itself for the whacking. Without warning, the trigger pulls back and releases. The tiny metal ball goes flying. It hits the end of the ramp and bounces around before dropping in between the blockades. The flipper slaps the ball once and shoots it back to the top, the ball screaming silently as it goes. This occurs multiple times until the ball falls through the gap and begins it's descent to the bottom and hopeful escape. The flipper denies its freedom and punches it to the other side of the machine.

    However, what this person does not know is that the pin balls have had it. They are tired of being shoved around. Having lived under these tyrants for far too long, it was time to strike back. They worked together and came up with an idea. Little did this person know, but he was the victim now. The pin balls were getting their revenge, because if the pin balls knew anything from being knocked around all day, it was physics. They worked tirelessly, putting their minds together until they created a small incline that would propel them up out of the machine and into their attacker. The first one failed, so as he rolled back into the sanctuary, the second one braced itself for the launch, hoping it would work. Their tyrant pulled the lever as far as it would go, elated about his previous success. He released and the ball whizzed forward to freedom. It worked. The ball rolled up the ramp, out of the machine and into the face of the astonished player. The man swayed as the tiny ball fell to the ground. He began his descent as the ball rolled away innocently.

    A year later, the machine was removed. The victim sued the pin ball company and demanded that they be removed from public use, never to be manufactured again due to their dangerous design. The brave little ball was never found again. It eventually found its way into a drain, and would never know its success or receive any gratitude from its fellow pin balls. He was lost, but his legacy lived on in sporting balls across the country. Though he never received any gratitude, doing the right thing in itself is reward enough.