Curve hummed a cheerful tune as she surveyed her latest masterpiece: a dandelion, each seed meticulously drawn and individually shaded. It was, in her humble opinion, a triumph of detail.
The problem was, no one else appreciated her…dedication to the finer points of existence.
"Curve, we need to get to the marketplace," Angle said, tapping his nonexistent foot impatiently. "We agreed to help Line set up his booth before the rush."
"Just a moment, Angle," Curve said, adding a tiny highlight to a single seed. "This dandelion is simply begging for increased realism."
"But Line needs us! And you've been working on that dandelion for three hours!" Angle exclaimed. "We'll be late!"
Curve sighed dramatically. "Fine," she said, carefully placing the dandelion in her overflowing portfolio. "But art should never be rushed, Angle. It's an insult to the very concept!"
As they walked, Curve couldn't help but notice the lack of detail in the world around them. The ground was a flat, untextured gray. The sky was a featureless white. Even the other stick figures were disappointingly basic.
"It's all so…unfinished," she murmured.
Angle, who was meticulously calculating the optimal route to the marketplace (which involved a complicated series of zigzags and shortcuts), didn't hear her.
When they finally arrived, Line's booth was a minimalist nightmare. A single table, a blank canvas, and a sign that read: "Line's Lines - Art in its purest form."
"Oh, Line," Curve said, her voice filled with pity. "This is…underwhelming."
Line looked devastated. "I know. I tried to draw a landscape, but it just ended up looking like a fence."
Angle clapped Line on the back. "Don't worry, Line! I've calculated the optimal placement of each item to maximize sales! People are naturally drawn to…symmetry and order!"
He then proceeded to rearrange Line's entire booth, creating a rigid, symmetrical display that looked more like a construction site than an art exhibition.
Curve watched in dismay. She knew they were trying to help, but their attempts were only making things worse.
Suddenly, a small, brightly colored figure approached the booth. It was a square, with rainbow-colored polka dots and a jaunty little top hat.
"Hello!" the square chirped. "I'm Pip! And I'm looking for something… unique! Something with…flair! Something…detailed!"
Curve's heart leaped. This was her chance!
She rummaged through her portfolio, finally pulling out her dandelion masterpiece. "Behold!" she declared, presenting the dandelion to Pip. "A testament to the beauty of detail! Each seed meticulously rendered, each highlight perfectly placed!"
Pip stared at the dandelion, his polka dots swirling slightly. He blinked. "It's… a lot of dandelion," he said, his voice a little overwhelmed.
He then glanced at Line's simple drawing of three straight lines. "But…what's this?" he asked, pointing to Line's artwork.
"That's just…lines," Line said, looking embarrassed.
"But they're so… simple!" Pip exclaimed. "So… clean! So…peaceful!" He paused, and then his polka dots started to glow. "It's…minimalism! I love it!"
He immediately bought all of Line's "pure" line drawings, leaving Line speechless and Curve utterly bewildered.
As Pip skipped away, clutching his minimalist masterpieces, Curve couldn't help but feel a twinge of…insecurity. She had spent hours, days even, perfecting her art, pouring her heart and soul into every tiny detail. And yet, all it took was a few simple lines to win someone over.
Maybe, she thought, there was something to be said for simplicity. Maybe, just maybe, she was overdoing it.
But then she saw a tiny speck of dust on one of Pip's purchases. And with a sigh of resignation, she knew she had work to do. Even minimalism, after all, could benefit from a little…polishing.