The building site for the new highway was closed for the night. All of the tools were tucked together in a work tent. There were drills buzzing snores in their sleep. The blasting mats rattled their chains as they rested. And the TNT was wide awake.
"Psst!" hissed the TNT. She was always the first to start something, and she was very competitive with the dynamite. "Did you see what a wonderful boom job I did today on the rock?" she asked.
Dynamite yawned. "No, I didn't. I was too busy doing my bigger and better blasting. I had no time to notice your little puffs."
TNT gasped. "How dare you! I'm so much older than you are. Show some respect!"
"And you're not nearly as good at your job. Which is why they invented me," retorted the dynamite.
By this time their bickering had woken the other tools, who had all worked with both of them the last few months. They muttered amongst themselves.
"Well, TNT, you are older. But you also stink a lot worse!" commented a drill. "No matter how many times the workers clean me, I still smell."
A blasting mat, who quite liked the TNT, came to her defense.. “She is made of beautiful golden crystals. Not that chalky white powder they mix dynamite with.”
"Isn't that also used in cat litter?" asked TNT.
"Why you - !" cried the dynamite as she started hopping her stick across the tent to reach the TNT. The blasting mat put its rubber tire parts and chains in between them, keeping them apart while they glared at each other.
"I was named after the Greek word for power, 'dynamus.' What were you named after, TNT? I don't think any of us can pronounce it!" she said…