I'm touchy about my height, and willing to deck anyone who'll tease me about it.
[Before you read, watch: /watch?v=EWTd0BMdtvg on youtube.]
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The Carrot Day Anthem
by k-shee
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Vaughn Vaults was the man with the nerves of steel. Nothing could ever faze him, and if he had a weakness, no one but his family knew it.
Julia had vowed to remain tight-lipped about his secret, but he couldn't force his Auntie Mirabelle into anything at all. She was "one with the force" so to speak, and had an iron-clad stubbornness he managed to inherit. He would be furious with her sometimes, but he never was scared of the only parental figure in his life.
But right now, looking into Chelsea's stormy blue eyes, Vaughn suddenly knew the meaning of fear.
Okay, he insulted her, so it was a given she'd be mad. But he insulted her height, and she was always touchy about that. It wasn't that she was short for a girl or anything, just short compared to him. But geez, the woman didn't have to react so badly.
Before he could apologize, Chelsea had decked him good and he vaguely saw the bright red KO behind his eyelids, before he was out like a light.
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When he came to, he was strapped to a chair in front of a TV screen. He recognized the shabby inside of Chelsea's home, and soon found the owner leaning on her little kitchen island, staring at him.
"What the hell?" He cursed at the rope holding him in place.
"You should be glad I didn't gag you," Her voice was simply musing. "But I wanted to hear you scream."
Vaughn narrowed his eyes in a way that would make any living being shrivel up and die. "You're getting nothing outta me."
She simply smiled. "We'll see." The remote in her hand clicked, and the TV buzzed to life. "Happy National Carrot Day." She sang.
His eyes widened as the screen started to show a talking carrot with a guitar. It looked so evil, so vile, so disgusting as it sang—SANG!—about the wonders of carrots and their beta-caroteneness in all their orange glory.
Vaughn shot Chelsea a sickened look.
That was when she decided to sing along to the stupid vegetable.
"Mercy, woman!" Vaughn cried out as the song began to speed up, using all of the words in the bloody English dictionary that ended with -tion. And it wasn't even historically correct! Carrots did NOT discover the evolution of man! Carrots would NOT prevent electrocution! And carrots could NOT escape from mental institutions!
But if the torture didn't stop soon, Vaughn supposed he'd be escaping from one himself.
"Apologizing yet?" Chelsea smirked.
He tightened his jaw, shooting death glares. "What for?"
"Foolish, foolish Vaughn." She shook her head, sighing mockingly. "Ah well. You'll learn soon enough."
The remote clicked, and the song replayed.
He screamed. He screamed for a long time.
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"So! What have we learned today?" Chelsea innocently clapped her hands together.
Vaughn replied mechanically. "That I should never underestimate and-slash-or undervalue your scheming mind."
"Very good! And?"
"I'm an asshole, not to mention a male chauvinistic pig."
"That's right." She laughed maniacally, patting Vaughn's silver head. "Now, say what I want you to say."
He winced. "Isn't this torture enough? I'm bound by five feet of rope, for Sprite's sake."
"Say it." She shook the remote threateningly.
He hung his head. "I, Vaughn Aston Vaults, am officially PWNED."
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Dear Vaughn, I'm sorry I took my anger out on you. By the way, I'm marking Feb 3 on my calendar as National Carrot Day :D Love, k-shee