Milford, Stephanie and the other kids are away for the week and Bessie has decided to take a vacation along with them. Sportacus is bored in Lazytown. The only other occupant who has yet to leave him behind is Robbie. Sportacus hasn't seen Robbie on the topside in a long while, so the elf decides to pay him a visit. As Sportacus walks, or more accurately flips, toward Robbie's lair, he can't help but shake the feeling that something serious must be wrong. He hasn't even seen the periscope peep up.
Sportacus knocks on the pipe entrance and waits. And waits, and waits, and waits... and waits. With no response after a long while, Sportacus bites his lip and opens the typically unlocked hatch. He jumps into the pipe. After sliding down not too far, the pipe is clogged. Instead of allowing Sportacus to finish his ride, the pipe tosses him back up and out. Sportacus lands on the grass on his back, doing a backwards somersault.
"Well... that was strange." He shakes his head and begins cartwheels back to the soccer field, or maybe the apple tree.
On the underside, Robbie grumbles to himself as he makes another cut in his hand. He moves to the kitchen, grabs a bottle of some sort of Icelandic liquor and pours it over the gash. Almost immediately, the cut stitches itself up. The twenty-seventh stitch of the week. He has stitches on his hands, arms, feet, etc, all from this newest invention. He is excited because he is sure it will work, it is a no-fail plan. The only thing that upsets him is it has nothing to do about ridding the town of the great blue jumping bean.
He had heard the man get stuck in the pipe he previously blocked with dark elfin magic. Not wanting to deal with anything today, he simply set the little kangaroo back up to play. A little after midnight, Robbie finally unlocks his hatch. He carries the special liquid along with his nearly finished machine. He quickly attaches wheels and brings it to the apple tree. There, he is able to finish the work and test it on the apples.
Robbie is about five steps away from absolutely finishing his handicraft when Sportacus leaps down from the tree. This startles the man used to the calm silence. His hand and head jerk. His hand shoves the drill blade he had been holding into the circuit board, while his head is severely cut and blood begins to gush out. Sportacus stammers apologies behind him, but Robbie is in no mood to listen. He hastily pours the liquor over his head. Without waiting for the stitches to spread, Robbie attends to his machine.
"... Shit."
Sportacus stops gabbing. He is staring at Robbie's head, and how the stitches are just forming together. He looks down at Robbie's ruthlessly pissed face. Before he realizes what is happening, Robbie has his hands wrapped around Sportacus's throat. In no time flat, Robbie shoves Sportacus and himself into a secret entrance of his lair. Before it closes, an enormous explosion is heard. Sportacus stops fidgeting and Robbie lets out a long string of curses.
"You stupid little fu"
"Robbie!" Sportacus jumps up, scared of Robbie's demeanor and unsettled by his constant swearing.
"What!?" He barks unsympathetically. "What the **hell** could you **fucking** have to say to me? What!?"
"I, I dontknowhatjushappenedbut imreallyreallysosorryrobbie youknowididn'tmeantodothatiwasjustsayinghi!"
"I don't care!" Robbie screams. "I don't care that you're sorry! I don't care that you were lonely. Why the hell didn't you run off with the fucking pixie and her band of dweebs?"
"I wasn't invited." He answers calmly and quietly.
"You weren't invited here either." Robbie responds bitterly.
A cloud of silence overcomes the lair. It lasts for half an hour. Sportacus had been on the verge of tears. He doesn't dare touch anything. Each time he moves, he is met with an icy glare. Instead, he begins to do pushups, silently counting in his head. Robbie disappears into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he reemerges with two apples - one red and one green. He hurls the red one at Sportacus, who has not been paying attention. The apple hits him in the side of his face. The stem had cut his cheek. Sportacus sits up and is frightened by the sight of blood. Robbie rolls his eyes and grabs his flask. He pours some goopy liquid onto the cut. Sportacus had barely flinched, still quite scared of Robbie's new turn. The pain dissipates quickly and the scar disappears.
"What kind of uh, alcohol was that?" Sportacus asks quietly, knowing Robbie hates to be thanked.
Robbie lets out a low chuckle. "That wasn't alcohol."
Before Sportacus can ask another question, Robbie bites into his apple, urging Sportacus to do the same with his. Sportacus eyes the fruit, sniffs it and gets rewarded with a fatal glare from the sub-dweller. He lets out a cracked sigh and takes a bite. His eyes light up as he meets Robbie's darkened ones.
"Hey! It's... real... sportscandy. What's wrong?"
Robbie doesn't answer. Sportacus's eye twinkle.
"We can play a Secrets Game! I'll tell you a secret, then you tell me one! Okay?"
Robbie only glares with a slight twitch in his left eye. Sportacus takes this as a sign to continue. He sits and thinks a moment.
"I have an older brother."
"So do I." Robbie answers monotonously.
Sportacus frowns. "The first time I saw you when you were dressed as a Birthday Fairy, it scared me."
"No kidding." He answers with a tug on his eyebrows. "I've lived in this bunker since I was seven."
Sportacus gapes at this fact. Biting his lip, he takes in a big breath and chooses to tell Robbie a very big secret.
"I'm an elf."
"I know." Robbie's head turns toward him. "You call that a secret?"
"But... no one knows."
"I knew Nine. He was an elf. You're a Light Elf. A Blue Sports Elf."
"How did you... It's your turn to tell me a secret."
"In the flask, that I poured over your cut..."
"You said it wasn't alcohol." Sportacus nods.
An eerily smirk plays on Robbie's lips. "It was my spit."
"Your... what? You, spit on my face?" Sportacus looks positively horrified. "Why?"
"It healed you." He shrugs. "Isn't that what matters? Your turn."
"I, uh, err...my favorite food isn't sportscandy."
"If you tell me it is honey, I will slap you so hard your head will spin." Robbie threatens in a low voice.
Sportacus gulps and looks over at the so-called villain, hoping for a sign of sarcasm or joking. No such luck. The taller man is only glaring with clenched fists.
"I know another elf." Robbie reveals a secret, dragging the other man out of lala land.
"Another elf?" Sportacus asks excitedly. "A man or woman? Or a child? Is it a good elf? Or a bad elf?"
"It's your turn."
"Um..." He starts bouncing on the heels of his feet. "Ooh! I know three people who really like you."
"Hm?" Robbie's ears perk up. "I know a Dark Elf. Fess up."
Sportacus scrunches up his face. "One of them is Stephanie. She really sees the good in you. A Dark Elf? Is it a Sports Elf?"
"No. The Dark Elf is a man. Around your age. He's been told he was bad all his life."
"That's sad." Sportacus pouts. "Pixel likes you too. He really admires your craftsmanship on your inventions." He pauses seeing a strange look pass over Robbie's features. "We don't hafta play anymore if you don't wanna tell me about this elf you know."
Robbie hangs his head and mentally slaps himself. "One more. He's a Purple Resting Elf."
"I've heard about them." Sportacus nods.
"And the third person who likes me?"
"Me." Sportacus smiles, lightly grazing Robbie's shoulder.
An intense burst of electricity shocks both of them. Sportacus is sent forward, across the kitchen table. Robbie is thrust backwards, into the television set. Sportacus brushes himself off, surprised there was no sugar ready to break his fall. Robbie is climbing out of the TV with a groan.
"You, surv-hold on." Sportacus stops himself. "Why didn't my crystal beep? We were in trouble!"
"It doesn't work down here."
"Did you, did you make it not work with your inventions?" Sportacus looks ready to cry.
"Not exactly."
"What do you mean?" Sportacus shouts, more confused than ever.
"It doesn't work down here... by magic."
"Did I do something when I came down here last?"
"Not Light magic, you dolt. Dark magic."
"The other elf you know did this?"
Robbie nods, ready to either cry in a ball or blast through a wall. The expression on Sportacus's face grows maddening and angry. It gives Robbie a headache to watch. He attempts to walk down a corridor, but Sportacus beats him to it, lightly shoving him against a wall.
"Why would he do that, Robbie?"
"Let me go, Sporty."
"Why would he do something like that!?" Sportacus asks again with more determination and more force than necessary.
Robbie yells in his face, taking in more strength. He shoves the shorter elf into the other wall with anger. Sportacus is still mad but his eyes show a lot more fear than anger.
"Because I hurt myself, okay? I harm myself on purpose. I get drunk and hold out a knife. And, I cut my wrists, I cut my chest, my stomach, my neck. I always patch them up before I lose consciousness. I hurt myself to make myself feel better. I was abused when I was younger and now kids less than half my age heckle me while trying to drive away the one person I want to seriously be with. Don't you understand anything, you stupid fucking elf?"
"I, I, I, I don't know what to say-you're strong."
Sportacus struggles. His hands are still pressed on Robbie's shoulders, but the taller man has him pinned. There is only hatred, honesty and hollow embarrassment in Robbie's eyes. His hands are gripped around the muscles on Sportacus's arms, and his legs prevent any escape. Robbie decides now is the time to bare his teeth. He does so, allowing mysterious magic to flow through his body. Every tooth in his mouth appears to be filed, like fangs. He leers into Sportacus's face, taking note in the shorter man's terrified outlook and shaking body.
"What do you know about Dark Elfin teeth, huh Sportascared?"
"They're all sh-sharp and never have cavities..."
Robbie loosens his grip and runs his tongue slowly over his teeth, calming them to their regular state. His glare lessens and Robbie throws him onto a kitchen chair, almost toppling over. Sportacus moves to get up but Robbie throws himself on top.
"It's you, isn't it?"
"Me?" Robbie asks innocently. "Me, the villain? Me, the Birthday Fairy. Me, the"
"The Dark Elf."
"Took you long enough, Sportadumb. Do you have any family?"
"Did have a brother. And a father."
"Yes, Nine." He sighs audibly. "Your mother?"
"Is back home. What about you?"
Sportacus changes the topic quick. Robbie glares at him and knees his midsection, enjoying the smart look given to him by the shorter elf gasping in pain.
"I have a sister who killed our step mom, a father who killed my mother and your father, a niece and a cousin who lives in Canada."
"My father?" Sportacus asks, shifting.
"Yes, okay. My father killed my mother a little after my sister was born. My brother tried to kill me; I don't know if he's alive or not. My sister's first boyfriend tried to kill her, so I killed him. Our step mom killed her second boyfriend and my second niece, so my sister killed her. Then my father came here drunk and killed your father. Now I have a father looking for my blood and a sister and first niece in hiding. And a sadistic cousin in Canada who has no idea he's a fucking elf."