Calvin walked off the school bus and stormed into the house. He didn't even notice that Hobbes wasn't waiting to greet him when he slammed the door open. Probably reading Captain Napalm books and drawing mustaches on the superheroes or something, who cared? Instead, he was focused on getting to his room so he could complete the awful, torturous homework assignment that awaited him. Normally, Calvin was all for procrastination, but creative assignments were just…ugh! Math could wait, but this one had to be done, and as quickly as possible.
"Hey, buddy! How was school today?" his tiger buddy asked from the bed. He was indeed scribbling on an old Captain Napalm issue, but at the moment Calvin was too upset to care.
"Terrible!" Calvin threw his things down on the floor and went straight for his desk. "This is the worst assignment ever! I'm supposed to think up a story, write it, and illustrate it by tomorrow! Do I look like a novelist? This is impossible! I can't tell stories!" He groaned.
Hobbes chuckled at his friend's reluctance to be able to think up a story. They had time travel adventures in the backyard every weekend, his alter ego was Stupendous Man, and he couldn't think of anything to write about? Except for maybe one thing…
"What about your explanation of the noodle incident?"
Calvin's face turned purple. "That wasn't a story! That was the unvarnished truth!"
"Oh, don't be so modest. You deserved a Pulitzer."
Calvin's face twisted into a deeper grimace. "Why, I ought to roll you into a stripey rug! Your suggestions are good for absolutely nothing but insulting me!"
"Hey, I only suggested it. You were the one who caused the noodles to-"
Calvin shrieked as he pounced on Hobbes full force. "So it was my fault, was it? I'll have you know that I wasn't trying to cause any trouble on purpose!"
They continued fighting. "Well, it's not my fault you're a troublemaker!"
"Flea-breath!"
"Troublemaker!"
"Stripey bait!"
They continued calling each other names for a few minutes until they were on the ground, dirty and out of breath.
"Should we call a truce?" Calvin asked.
"Sure, truce," Hobbes agreed. "You know, you could write about fighting with your stuffed tiger. Truth is stranger than fiction, after all."
"Maybe you're right, but I think it's time for a break. Come on, old buddy, it's a nice day and we have this big backyard to go enjoy!"
"Do you have an idea for your story yet?" Hobbes asked an hour later.
"No, I'm waiting for inspiration," said Calvin, who was playing in his sandbox. "You can't just turn on creativity like a faucet. You have to be in the right mood."
"What mood is that?"
"Last-minute panic."
Hobbes rolled his eyes as Calvin continued rolling his truck over the sand. There was just no reasoning with Calvin over school, and Hobbes knew that sooner or later, this homework assignment would turn into something bigger.