May 24 was, as far as the white haired boy could tell, National Ruin Lincoln Loud's Day Day.
The very first blow was this: A new deluxe collector's issue of Ace Savvy Vs. Donald Trump was dropping tomorrow and he didn't have the money to buy a copy. That was kind of his fault, since he spent everything he had on Lola and Lana's birthday present last week, but hey, what was he supposed to do? He saw the pink princess Jeep and had to get it. Putting others before himself was kind of his thing. Maybe it was a character flaw, he didn't know. That morning, it sure felt like one.
Heading into the day, that was his primary woe.
But others quickly took its place.
First, he got tangled up in his sheets trying to get out of bed and whacked his head on the nightstand. Next, his sisters selfishly ate up all the good cereal and left him with Grape Nuts (basically granola flavored gravel). After that, it started raining, and because Mom needed the van today, that meant he had to walk to school with Lisa, Lola, Lana, and Lucy yapping in his ear. He wasn't a very orderly guy, so he had no idea where his rain boots were; by the time he got to school, his socks were sodden and his shoes squeaked embarrassingly on the tile floors.
The slippery tile floors. He moved wrong, or maybe God decided he looked extra pushable that morning, and down he went in front of everyone. Oh, how they laughed. Pointing, slapping their knees, recording - it was bad. At lunch, he spilled hot mac and cheese in his lap, and Stella, the girl he really like liked, called him Noodles...which lead to the entire school calling him that for the rest of the day, even Clyde. It wasn't all that bad...until Mrs. Johnson handed his math test back. And here's yours, Noodles.
The whole class lost it, and Lincoln, cheeks blazing, sank down in his seat, thoroughly defeated. His best friend, the girl he liked, the teacher, everyone laughing, their disembodied heads swirling around him like Patrick and his parents mocking Spongebob (I've heard of barrel chested, but never BOX CHESTED!). He was not suicidal, but in that moment, he sincerely wished a falling space probe would crash through the ceiling and crush him beneath its sweet, sweet shame erasing weight.
Can this day get any worse? asked he.
Of course it could!
In shop class, he leaned over a reciprocating saw to grab a set of goggles (safety first), and his shirt got caught. With a loud riiip, it was torn from his body and chewed to pieces, leaving him bare chested in front of twenty people...Stella included.
They laughed.
Again.
Mr. Hart, the shop teacher, rolled his eyes and sent him to the principal's office. Arms folded across his nipples, he hurried there, but got caught in the middle of class change; a thousand kids flooded the hall...and they laughed too.
At the office, he sifted through the lost and found for a shirt, but the only one there was two size too small, purple, and boasted a glittery, girly design on the front.
Oh, great, he was gonna catch it for this next. Watch.
And walking back to class, he did.
Nice shirt, Loud! Poppa Wheelie cried.
Very cute~ Girl Jordan said and batted her eyes.
Purple is totally your color, Lincoln, Cookie Milford, Royal Elementary's resident snooty rich girl, snickered.
At the end of the day, he put his jacket on, went outside (head ducked against further humiliation), and stood at the flagpole waiting for his sisters. He waited...and waited...and waited...and waited. Finally he called his mother. Oh, I picked them up early, honey, sorry.
Oh? You...ya know...didn't think to pick me up too?
SIGH.
He walked home through the still more rain. At the front door, he took a deep breath. Well...now that that was over, he could relax and forget his troubles with an Ace Savvy comic.
Opening the door, he slipped inside and closed it behind him again. He started up the stairs, but froze on the bottom step when Lynn called out from the couch. "Hey, Linc, wanna play a game?"
Lincoln threw his head back and groaned. Lynn, two years older than him, was a jock, and all of her games involved running, a ball, or him getting beaten up - sometimes all three. "No," he said, "I've had a long day. I'm not in the mood for football."
Shifting onto her knees, Lynn laid her hands on the back of the couch and arched a curious brow. "I meant a video game."
Huh? Lincoln turned and blinked. On TV, the Steal That Car: Vatican City loading screen waited patiently, a cartoony image of a man dressed like the Pope and holding an M-16 with an under barrel bayonet shaped like a cross inviting Lincoln to come explore 110 acres of walled enclave. He darted his eyes to Lynn, and she cocked her head to one side. "Wanna play?" she asked.
Lynn hated video games. He'd tried a million times in the past to get her to play one with him, but she always called him a dork, gave him a noogie (or, oh God, a Dutch oven), and walked away. That she wanted to play one now, out of the blue, struck him as downright bizarre. "Uhh..w-why?" he asked warily. There had to be a catch somewhere. Maybe she was luring him into an Indian burn like a spider enticing a fly into its web.
"'Cuz I wanna play a game with you," she shrugged. She spun around and dropped onto her butt, her ponytail fluttering. "Come on, Linc, I wanna steal that car." She patted the spot next to her, and Lincoln was so flabbergasted that all he could do was obey. He crossed to the couch and sat beside her; she handed him one controller and picked up the other. "Uh, Lynn?"
"Yeah?"
Lincoln nodded to her hands. "You're holding it upside down."
Forcing a smile, she turned it rightside up. "I knew that." She looked at the TV, where two avatars dressed as Catholic priests stood on the steps of Saint Peter's Basilica. Nuns, bishops, cardinals, and members of the Swiss Guard, the Pope's personal bodyguards and de facto police force, walked back and forth in the courtyard. "So," Lynn said, "what do we do?"
"Cause mayhem," Lincoln said. There was more to the game than that, but he just ran around icing people. It was fun.
"Perfect," Lynn said gamely, "that's my middle name." She stared down at the controler with furrowed brows. "Uh...Linc?"
"Yeah?"
"How do we do that?"
"Tap X to walk, hold it to run, square jumps, O punches, and when you have a gun, it shoots. When you get next to a car, hit triangle and you can steal it."
"Got'cha." She tapped X and her character took off down the stairs. She ran up to a nun, hit O, and punched her. "Ha, take that, Mother Teresa!"
The nun stumbled back, then, in a flash, hit Lynn with a sick kick that sent her character flying through the air and landing hard on the ground. Lynn's jaw dropped, then snapped closed when a bunch of priests and other nuns dashed over and started kicking her. "Hey!" he she cried. "That's not fair!"
Lincoln put in a cheat giving him an AK-47. He took aim and opened fire; rounds struck several of the attackers and they fell to the concrete. The others scattered with high pitched screams. Lynn's character got to its feet, and hit O; it kicked the air in an impotent display of frustration. "Stupid priests."
A police car with flashing blue lights pulled up, and Lynn paled. "Uh-oh."
Lincoln chuckled at her alarm. Didn't she know she was playing with an expert? He entered another cheat, and a rocket launcher appeared in his avatar's hands. He aimed and pulled the trigger. A shell burst from the barrel and slammed into the car. It leapt ten feet off the ground in a ball of flames and the world shook violently.
"Whoa!" Lynn cried and sat forward. Her eyes were wide and the corners of her mouth twitched into a sly grin. "That was awesome! How'd you do it?"
It wasn't often that he impressed Lynn, and he smiled smugly. "It's a cheat. Look." He took her controller and she leaned over to watch intently as he typed in another. A matching rocket launcher appeared in her character's hands.
Grinning widely, Lynn snatched the controller away. She tapped X and her character sprinted toward the wall defining the Vatican's boundary. It turned and she tapped O. "Hey, Linc, catch."
A rocket exploded from her gun, and acting on pure reflex, Lincoln jammed the joystick to the left and hit square, jumping out of the way. It hit the front of the basilica and detonated with a roar of breaking glass. Lynn laughed and slapped her knee. "Almost got you, dork."
Plastering the tip of his tongue determinedly to his upper lip, Lincoln aimed at her and fired. She screamed and randomly mashed buttons. "Noooo!" Her character ducked, and the round hit the wall behind her.
"Almost got you, dweeb," Lincoln said, and they both laughed.
Something moved behind him, and he jerked a startled glance over his shoulder. Leni stood there with a big, toothy smile. "Hi, Lincy," she said, "I, like, need your help with something."
"With what?" he asked.
"Oh, nothing," she drew, "just modelling an outfit."
UGH! If there was one thing Lincoln hated more than playing football with Lynn, it was modelling Leni's fruity, girly outfits, especially when she had all her knitting club friends over. Each, to a one, was beautiful, and being dressed like a huge geek in front of them embarrassed him to no end. "I dunno," he said noncommittally, "me and Lynn are playing a game."
"Nah, it's alright," Lynn said, "you go on. I'll keep your guy warm."
Lincoln sighed. Fine. He got to his feet and followed Leni upstairs. What is she going to put me in? he worried.
Five minutes later he stood before the full length mirror in Leni's room, mouth agape. "So?" Leni asked anxious, "do you like it?"
"Like it?" he asked. "I love it!"
It was an exacting and painstakingly crafted replica of Ace Savvy's costume: Red bodysuit with an A inside a black spade on the chest, blue cape, black boots, and a black facemask. She even added a golden utility belt just like Ace's. Lincoln threw out his arms and stared down at himself in wonder. This was sweet!
"Looking good, baby bro."
Lincoln glanced over his shoulder, and his jaw dropped even more. Lori stood in the doorway, her arms crossed. She wore red tights under a red skirt, a red top, a blue cape, and a black mask identical to his. If Lincoln hadn't been frozen in shock, he would have rubbed his eyes. Lori hated it when he dressed up in his Ace Savvy cosplay - she said he was lame and babyish and that she was ashamed to be related to him.
Seeing her in...that...was ten times more mind blowing than Lynn wanting to play video games. "Uh...what are you wearing?"
Lori rolled her eyes fondly, as though he were just the cutest little dunderhead ever. "My Lady Savvy costume, duh."
"I have one too!" Leni squeed and held up an armful of clothes. "We're, like, gonna look totes cool."
First Lynn...now Lori...was there a gas leak in here? "Why?" he asked, more to himself than to Lori and Leni.
"What else are we gonna wear to get the new delux Ace Savvy thing?" Lori asked.
Oh. In all the epic fails he'd been through today, then the madness of his sisters acting totally OOC, Lincoln forgot that he was too broke to afford the new issue of Ace Savvy Vs. Donald Trump. Sigh. In the last issue, Mike Pence and James Mattis had One-Eye Jack strapped to a table, getting ready to waterboard him, and Donald Trump stood over a fallen Ace on the roof of the white house to gloat. You're gonna lose bigly, Ace, believe me. It was a pulse pounding, heart stopping cliffhanger, and he'd been waiting a month to see what would happen next.
Guess he'd have to wait.
"I don't have the money," he sighed and hanged his head.
Lori laughed. "You're forgetting something, Linc."
He was? "What?" he asked.
"I literally work at a pizza place. I have money."
Wait, what? He opened his mouth to say what he didn't know, but Lori waved him off. "Come on, we better hurry if we wanna get to the mall before they're all out."
One half hour later, he, Leni, and Lori stood in a long line outside The Android Dungeon and Baseball Card Shop in Royal Pines Mall. Lincoln trembled with excitement, and Lori wore a strained grin and looked nervously around. Leni stood in front of them, back straight and a ditzy smile on her face. "I'm a superhero," she said. "I, like, fight truth and justice."
When someone spoke from beside Lori, she jumped. "Lori?"
Carol Pingrey, in a blue blouse, brown skirt, and knee high blue socks, stood flanked by Dana on one side and Becky on the other. They all gaped at her.
"H-Hey," Lori said.
"What are you wearing?" Carol asked with a distasteful inflection.
Lincoln looked up at his older sister; her face blushed and her smile faltered. She was embarrassed, and Lincoln felt bad. Being seen looking like a dork must really bother her. Their gazes met, and resolve filled her eyes. "I'm wearing my Lady Savvy costume," she said firmly.
Carol crossed her arms and tilted her head judgmentally. "I see that," she said, "you look cute. You know, Silly Kids' Meals are half off at Bon's Burgers in the food court. The toy will go well with your dress up."
Dana and Becky snickered mean spiritedly, and Lori grimaced. "Ace Savvy's such a geek," Dana said.
Hurt twinged in Lincoln's chest and he lowered his eyes to the floor. You know, he loved dressing up like his hero, but every time he did it, Lori or someone else made him self-conscious about it, and he was starting to think they were right. He was a doofus and he was too old for this kind of thing.
"No he's not," Lori said, "Ace is cool. Unlike you losers." She turned away and faced forward, indicating the matter was closed. Carol rolled her eyes and signale for her posse to follow her.
When she was gone, Lori sighed.
Lincoln started to tell her she could take the costume off (why she insisted on wearing it in the first place, he didn't know), but the line started moving. When they finally got inside, he spotted a stack of the latest issue on a table. Giddy, he went over and picked one up. Donald Trump stood against the Seal of the President with his arms crossed ominously over his chest. Ace was tied to a chair, head hung and blood leaking from his shattered nose. Heil to the Chief, it was titled. Lincoln's eyes went to the sticker on the bottom right corner and he winced. Fifty bucks? That's highway robbery. On the very bottom, however, was the justification. Now including James Mattis X Mike Pence.
Well...they did have good chemistry.
Lori came up behind him, and he cringed a little, fully expecting her to see the price and change her mind. "I-It's kind of expensive," he said, "I'll put it back if -"
"Put it back and I will literally turn you into a human pretzel," Lori said with a playful grin. "Come on."
At the counter, Lori paid, then they looked around for Leni. She stood outside the shop with her hands heroically on her hips and chatted with her friend Chaz from school. "I, like, haven't tried to fly yet, but I bet I totes could." She tossed her head to the side. "It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's just Leni!"
"Come on, Super Leni," Lori said and snatched her by her cape, dragging her away.
Leni grinned and waved. "Bye, Chaz, see you at school!"
On the ride home, Lincoln sat in the back seat of the van and happily read his comic. He was halfway through when they got home: One-Eye Jack escaped from the Pentagon, where he was being held, took Donald Trump Jr. hostage, and flew a remote controlled drone into Trump Tower. Now he was surrounded by Capitol Police and FBI agents in windbreakers.
"Alright, Linc," Lori said, "inside."
"Sure," he muttered. He opened the door and crossed the lawn without looking up from his comic. He did this all the way upstairs turning pages as he went. In his room, he sat on the bed. Things were looking grim for Jack and -
"Hey, Linc!"
Lincoln jumped and the comic flew from his hands and over his head, landing on the pillow behind him. Lola and Lana stood before him, their hands clasped behind their backs and big, gap-tooth grins on their faces. Oh, no, the gruesome twosome. Lola and Lana loved bugging the crud out of him. They made a game of it, and whoever made him the most irritated got the other's dessert for a week.
"What do you want?" he sighed.
They looked at each other and grinned. "We have something for you," Lola said in a singsong voice. Lincoln gulped. That's what she usually said right before she threw her head back and let loose a loud, ear-splitting wail just to agitate him.
"W-What?" he asked guardedly.
As one, they turned their backs to him and went to the door. "Follow us, Linc," Lana said.
For a hesitant moment, Lincoln stayed where he was...then got up and followed, his curiosity piqued. In their room, Lana shoved him into a random barber chair. "Just sit back and relax," she said.
Inside of ten minutes, he was clad in a white robe, a white towel wrapped around his head like a turban. His bare feet soaked in a foot bath and Lola carefully placed cucumber slices on each of his eyes. "These will take care of those unsightly bags," she explained.
Lincoln was too stunned to move or even speak. Alright, something strange was definitely going on here. First Lynn, then Lori, now this?
"And this because I don't know why." Lana said and smeared cold mud on his face.
It hit him, and he sagged a little. They were buttering him up, like they did during that whole Dairyland vs Aloha Beach business. Maybe it was dorkish, but he thought they were being nice to him just because, and it stung a little that they just wanted something from him.
Oh well. Might as well enjoy it while he could.
"How's that, Lincy?" Lola asked hopefully.
"Good," he admitted.
Lucy's voice spoke from his right, and he jerked in surprise. "I wrote a poem," she said flatly, "it's called Lincoln. It goes…" she cleared her throat:
"Lincoln is a great brother
If I get hurt or sad, he helps me recover
He gives good advice and listens when I talk
And even if he doesn't want to, goes with me on cemetery walks
Lincoln, Lincoln, you're really cool and wise
With this poem my appreciation I can't disguise
Lincoln, you get a gold star and a cookie too
I don't say it very often but, but Lincoln, I love you."
Did these cucumbers suddenly turn into onions? 'Cuz his eyes were watering. "Thank you," he said, "that was..that was really sweet."
"I worked on it for days," Lucy replied. "It would have gone quicker if I asked you for help like I usually do, but that wasn't an option."
Lincoln opened his mouth, but Lisa's voice cut him off. "Step aside, simpleton. My offering is vastly superior and will, I believe, have positive effects far beyond a childish limerick and mud. Speaking of which: Lana, stop eating that at once."
"Aww, man."
Before Lincoln knew what was going on, Lisa pressed a glass vial into his hand. "Here," she said, "drink this. It's a herbal tonic specifically designed to promote good health in both body and mind. I've tested it on myself and the results are impressive. I've injected myself with the flu, the common cold, and anthrax, and have suffered no adverse symptoms."
Lincoln's head spun. "Uhhh...okay."
He steeled himself for bitterness and upended the glass, but instead, he was rewarded with a light, fruity taste. "That was good," he said, surprised. Usually, the things that came out of Lisa's laboratory were the complete opposite. They might be good for you, but they were never good to you.
"I took great pains to ensure the flavor was agreeable," Lisa stated. "Using a sample of your DNA, I tailored it specifically to your taste buds. I wasn't quite sure if it was successful as, to me, it tasted off. "
Without warning, someone plucked the cucumber slices off of his eyes and he blinked. Luan's face hovered inches over his own, her metallic smile so wide that he almost thought she was going to lean in, distend her jaw like a snake, and bite his head off. "Hey, Linc," she greeted, "do you wanna hear some jokes?"
Not really, no. Luan's humor was...how to put this nicely...not very good. She enjoyed jokes of every stripe (with a special affinity for jokes of the practical variety), but her favorite kind, hands down, were puns, the cheesier the better. She cracked them obsessively, much to the chagrin of literally everyone else. Even Benny, Luan's boyfriend, didn't like them. He told Lincoln one time: Dude, I like your sister, but sometimes I need a break.
Lincoln didn't have the heart to turn her down, though. "Sure," he said, "give me what you got."
Standing up straight, Luan cleared her throat. "What's a superhero's favorite drink?"
Uh...he had no clue. "What?"
"Fruit...punch." She punched the air. "Where do most superheroes live?"
"I don't know."
"Cape town!"
Lol, okay, that one was kind of funny.
"What does Ace Savvy put in his drink?"
Lucy, Lola, Lana, Lisa, and Leni were all gathered around, each one looking annoyed - save for Leni - but bearing their sister's humor for, Lincoln thought, the sake of the mission. Getting what they wanted from him. "What?" he asked.
Leering forward and throwing her arms out, she cried, "Just ice! Get it?"
He laughed, more at her expression than the joke itself. Everyone else forced a chuckle, except for Leni, whose brow pinched in confusion. "Like, what's so funny about ice?"
"What do you call it when Batman skips church?" Luan asked. Her face was beginning to flush and her eyes to twinkle. She was entering the zone, a place of berserker frenzy where she would burn like an unchecked pyre until she was spent. Without waiting for him to reply, she answered herself. "Christian Bale! What is Doc Ock's favorite month? October! When did Anakin Skywalker become evil? In the sith grade! What does Peter Parker tell people he does for work? Web designer! What's the difference between Batman and a criminal? Batman can go into a store without Robin! What if Ironman and the Silver Surfer teamed up? They'd be alloys! Get it?" She panted for breath, a loose strand of hair hanging in her eyes lending her a harried and addled appearance. She opened her mouth, then stopped. "Actually, that's all I got."
Everyone clapped and cheered, not because her jokes were good, but because they were done. "Mine's way better," Luna said from the door. Lincoln turned in her direction just as she jumped into the room and struck a wavering power cord on her guitar. "Linc-oooooon!" she sang, "Linc-oooooooonnnnnnnn!" she shredded, spun 360 degrees, and banged her head so hard Lincoln winced.
"He's the dude with the white hair
Likes to read comics in his underwear
Playing games on the TV screen
Always chill, Lincoln's never mean
He's the raddest bro you could ever have
Now watch me acapella and hit that dab."
She threw her guitar aside and hit a perfect dab.
"Hit or miss
I guess they never miss, huh?
You got some sisters, bet they wanna hug ya
Lincoln, you're an epic dude
Even when your sisters got a bad attitude
Despite all the grief we put you through
Lil' bro, we still love you!"
Lincoln had been stunned in his life, but this...t-this took the cake. He stared at Luna with open-mouthed shock and wracked his brain for some reply, but none came.
They must want something big.
"Wow," he said, "uh...that was…"
Really sweet?
"...thank you."
Luna smirked. "No prob, bro. You deserve it." She leaned over and mussed his hair.
Just then, Lola's phone rang. She took it out of a hitherto unseen pocket of her dress and answered it with cool, pragmatic efficiency. "Yeah?" She listened, then nodded. "Got'cha." She hung up and returned it. "Alright, girls, dinner's ready."
Before you could say grace, Lincoln was being sprinted by a group of screaming girls to the dining room. When he saw the table, he blinked. It was laid with every one of his favorite foods. Hamburgers, mac and cheese, pizza, tacos, king crab legs, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, spaghetti, and extra double chocolate lava cake actively erupting like a geyser. Lori stood by the head of the table, covered in batter and splatters of food, her hair messy and her chest heaving for breath. Lily was in her arms, also spackled with food. Lynn stood next to her; her hair, too, was messy. She looked like she just got done being tackled by the biggest female linebackers in the state.
Luna sat him down at the foot of the table and wrapped a napkin around his neck. "Lori?" he asked, bemused, "you...did all this?"
"Everyone helped," Lori said, "it took us most of the day. We worked in shifts."
All of his sisters crowded around, looming over him with big, anticipatory smiles. Lincoln looked from one face to the next to the next, then sighed. "What do you guys want?"
Luna frowned. "What do you mean, dude?"
"Well," he said, "you've all been extra nice to me." He gestured to the table. "This, the comic, the poem and the song...you're obviously trying to butter me up."
Lola lifted her brow. "No we're not."
"You're not?" Lincoln asked. "Then why -?"
Lori laid her hand on his shoulder. "Because it's brother's day and we wanted to show our appreciation to the best brother in the world."
Lincoln's head spun. Brother's Day?
All question, caution, and doubt fled when all of his sisters swept him into a massive eleven person group hug. Lily giggled and bopped his forehead with an enthusiastic, "Ink-in."
"We love you, Lincy," Lola said.
"Even if we don't always show it," Lana added.
"And even if some of us crack pun too many jokes," Luan said, "get it?"
Warmth filled Lincoln's chest, and a happy beam settled upon his face like the bright glow of a beacon in the dark. He looked at the fourth wall. "You know," he said, "despite being repeatedly humiliated in front of the entire school...today wasn't so bad after all."
He hugged his sisters back, and for one precious day, peace, love, and harmony reigned in the house of Loud.