Your wings reflected your trauma. Full, feathered wings were a sign of a pure soul, most likely seen in children. The wingspan and amount of feathers decreases when you act on something wrongful, such as criminals with barren, membraned wings, resembling the same appendage of a bat. Tom had most of his feathers, but was definitely not a saint. He had done his fair share of terrible things. On the other hand, Edd and Matt had probably all of theirs, they seemed to never lose any. The day Tord returned, though, it seemed the Norwegian had a fair set of feathers.

'Damn,' The blue hooded man thought 'How come commie over here has done better things than me?' Feathers came in all sorts of shapes and colors, but Tom couldn't help but notice one of the red clad man's wings was sort of damaged. As if he had been in many fights. "Classic stupid Tom!" Tord chuckled, and Tom watched as he turned, Tom just couldn't rip his eyes away from how perfectly crafted the devil-haired man's wings were. Sure, he had his own set, but Tord's looked so soft, and he wanted to be surrounded in them- 'Am I fantasising about this assholes' wings?! How much did I drink this morning..?'

After a heated argument about where Tord gets to sleep, the spiky haired man hit his breaking point. "If you want my room, then TAKE IT! This place is too crowded anyways!" He shouted in Tord's face after launching the couch through the wall with one great flare of his appendages. For the next few days Tom looked for somewhere, ANYWHERE with a room for rent, but had no luck. After buying an apartment he found the devil-haired ex-friend on a wanted poster taped on a telephone pole. He was trying his best to stay low enough to land quickly, but with the constant, angry beating wings on his back he had to alternate to gliding every few seconds.

He burst into the house and ran to find Tord, gripping the wanted poster in his right hand. As he was searching he stumbled upon the room, with the man he was looking for hovering over a panel of buttons. "Oh, Tom. What are you doing here?" the man asked, not at all surprised. "Good question, and why are you, here!?" He barked, holding the poster up for him to see. "Okay okay, you got me, I only came back to get something I left behind.." "And what's that?" Tom questioned, glaring at the norwegian. "This." He answered, slamming his hand on the button. A small machine came down from the ceiling, placing a helmet on Tord's head. He pressed the button one more time, a tube falling around him as he fell down into the seat of his giant robot.

Tom ran, he ran faster than he ever had before. Edd and Matt showed up to the party, helping to slow down the robot. Eventually Tom had regained enough strength to rise up from the rubble of his old house, and shot the harpoon right through the power core of the robot. His two friends helped him up as they watched it explode as if it was a firework on the Fourth of July