The dark green walls and floor were a familiar sight to him, this was the third time he had been here this week. He sat down one one of the worn, ugly leather stools.

"Just give me my usual."

"Sure thing," the waiter said in his thick brooklyn accent. The waiter had known this certain customer for quite some time. When he first saw him, he thought maybe he was hallucinating. He was, afterall, a talking gumball machine.

His name was Benson. He had a medium sized glass head filled with bright pink gumballs that sometimes changed color depending on his mood, and had a red, metal cylinder for a body. He also had a crank and a gumball door like a normal gumball machine, which always made the waiter curious, but not curious enough to ask to turn it and see what happened.

He talked like a normal person, ate, drank, breathed, and acted like every other person the waiter had seen in his life, and yet it still took him weeks to get used to talking with a living gumball machine. But he did get used to it, and now he was just another normal customer.

"Here ya go, Ben," he said, handing the machine his drink in a small and slighty dirty shot glass.

"Thanks," Benson said with little enthusiasm as he handed the man two dollar bills. The gumball machine drank his drink in less than a minute, and then set it upside down on the countertop. He didn't have to say anything to let the waiter know he wanted another one. The gumball machine would probably have two or three more before he decided to go back home.

'Why does my life suck?' Benson asked himself. His life had always been a little below average, but lately it just seemed like it was hitting rock bottom.

Last year had been the best year in a while. Benson had been in a band, he was the drummer, and also filled in for guitar whenever the normal guitarist wasn't there or when the song called for it. They played small gigs with little pay, but at least it was enjoyable.

But after a few months, the band broke up and went their seperate ways. Benson was planning on heading out of town to see if he could get into another band, and he was planning on going with his girlfriend. Unfortunately for him, life always seemed to have a way of screwing him over.

Veronica was her name. She had been spoiled her whole life, and was usually rude to Benson. But she was another gumball machine, and she had her nice moments, so Benson ended up falling for her. He wrote songs for her, and always tried to make her smile. But in the end, it wasn't enough for the female gumball machine.

'It was probably a good thing she left me anyway,' he thought. Deep down, he never really thought it would work out between the two of them, but it was nice to hope.

After Veronica left, Benson pawned his guitar (but he kept his drums, since he still enjoyed playing them once in a while) and tried looking for a real job. That was five months ago. Now his apartment was one late rent payment away from getting taken away from him, and he still had no job. There was no way he would go back to his parents' house, so he was quickly running out of options.

'I need a fresh start. Only problem is I don't know where to get one.'

"One Aquarita please," a high voice next to him said. Benson glanced over and saw a man. He was thin, but had a big head, giving him the apperance of a lollipop. He was also wearing a top hat. Definitely an interesting looking person.

"Thank you, my good man," said the man, obviously British. He took out his wallet, and placed two grape lollipops on the countertop. "No change neccessary, that's all for you."

"Wow, thanks," the waiter said sarcastically, "Now seriously, pay up."

The lollipop man tilted his head, looked confused. "I've got it," said Benson, taking out his wallet and handing the waiter the money.

"Thank you, young man," said the man with a friendly smile and a tip of the hat.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Benson said.

"You are correct, my good man," he replied, "but I do hope to make a happy life here. My father just passed his park onto me. I'll miss living in my old home, but it's quite exciting getting a new one."

"That's nice," said Benson, turning away from the stranger. The lollipop man seemed nice, if not a little naive, but Benson really didn't want to talk to anyone right now.

"So, what's your name?"

"Look, you seem like a nice guy," said Benson, trying not to sound too rude, "but I really just want to sit here quietly, okay?"

The lollipop man seemed a little dissapointed. "Oh, alright," he said, before taking a sip of his drink. Two minutes of silence passed before he spoke again. "Why are you so sad?"

The question seemed so innocent, like a child was asking it. Benson didn't know whether it was the man's friendly personality, or the fact that he had already drunk too much to care about privacy, but something made him start to share his story with the lollipop man.

"Well, where do I begin?" said Benson, "I guess my biggest problem right now is that I'm out of a job. My apartment's going to get repo'd, and no one will hire a 'freaky talking gumball machine'."

"Why not?" the man asked, "I would." He smiled. "In fact, I shall!"

"Huh?" Benson asked. He had only known this guy for five minutes and he was offering him a job?

"I still need some employees to run my father's park, and you seem perfect for the manager job!"

"But I don't have any experience working as a manager," said Benson. He barely had any job experience at all, let alone manager experience.

"Oh, no experience needed," the man said with a friendly smile, "Just tell me your name and you've got the job."

"It's Benson," Benson replied.

"Benson," the man repeated. He liked that name. It seemed to suit the gumball machine. "Alright Benson, would you like the job?"

"Well, sure," said Benson. It was surprising. Five minutes ago he was as low as you could get, and now he was practically smiling. The man told Benson the address of the park, and the two shook hands. "Thank you Sir."

"Oh please, call me Pops," said the lollipop man.

"Well alright, Pops," said Benson, "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Oh good show!" Pops said happily, "jolly good show." He thanked Benson, and then left the bar. As he left, Benson couldn't help but chuckle a little.

Such a strange man, but maybe this would be the fresh start he was looking for. He had never worked at a park before, or as a manager. But with this guy as his boss, it was sure to be interesting.

So, love it? Hate it? Review it maybe?

Also, if Pops seems a little OOC, it's because this was before Mordecai and Rigby went to '82 and hit him with the golf cart. So he's not quite as Pops-like as we're used to, but he's still naive.

So, hope you liked this, and I will probably make more Pops/Benson short stories to add on to this one in the future if this one goes well, so stay tuned!