Hello all,
This unedited one-shot is to inform you all that I am on vacation and will get back to regular posting when I get back home.
SIDE NOTE: This was inspired by a comment Jeff made in "Cry Wolf" while talking about the games his boys used to play.
DISCLAIMER: I still own nothing but a bunch of DVDs.
That all said, enjoy ...
Jeff looked over his spread sheets, trying to tune the sounds coming for the other room. Becoming a single parent to five rambunctious boys had endowed him with certain skills, not the least of which was deciphering an I'm-having-fun scream from an I'm-gonna-die scream. Currently all the yelling and shouting coming from the living room was safe.
"Die Gordon!"
"You first, Johnny!"
Very annoying, but safe. Still, if he didn't get this paperwork done today he was going to have to work the weekend, the same weekend he promised to take the boys camping. But the question remained, was it worth the time and effort to try and keep them quiet or should he just try and tough it out?
A shrill scream made up his mind for him and Jeff put down his pen. Someone had crossed the line and got Alan hurt, mad, or scared. Not that it mattered which, it still meant the end of whatever game they were playing. Though what game that was, Jeff couldn't help but wonder what had possessed them to play it. Entering the living room, he found two barricades, made up of overturned tables and chairs, creating battle lines between the older and younger boys. That alone might have been okay, if their weapons of choice had not been paint and water.
Standing near the outer door, Scott and John held squirt guns and the hose, respectively, with buckets and bowls holding more of their "ammo". Both were thoroughly soaked. Across the room, Virgil and Gordon were hunkered down with jars of paint and armed with brushes; both smeared with colorful warpaint. On top of that, Gordon was sitting on his youngest brother, smearing paint on his face as the four-year-old screamed in protest. It was quiet a sight, but a more accurate word might have been chaos.
John saw him first, which quickly got Scott's attention and caused a cease fire on the water side. Virgil took advantage of the break and popped up ready to strike, but he followed his brother's line of sight and dropped his brush at his feet. Gordon looked up from his attack, probably to see why everyone stopped, and froze when he saw Jeff. Alan either didn't notice or didn't care what was happening around him and continued to wail. Time seemed to stand still for several seconds before Virgil seemed to realized Gordon was still on top of Alan and yanked him back. Upon his release, the youngest brother jumped up and shoved his former captor before turning tearing eyes on Jeff.
"Daddy!" he cried, running to grab onto his leg with one hand while the other pointed accusingly at his paint covered brothers. "I wanna be a titan but Gordon made me be a gorgon and I don't wanna be a gorgon, but Virgil said if I don't be a gorgon they'll throw me in the lava and I don't wanna be in the lava. I wanna be a titan with Scotty but they made me a gorgon!"
Jeff took a deep, calming breath, as a small voice in the back of his head reminded him of his promise to Lucy to be an understanding father. however, the splotches of color on the walls, floor, furniture, and children made it pretty hard. Still, he was determined not to yell. No promises beyond that, but he was not going to yell. Instead, Jeff took hold of Alan's wrist, the only part of him that didn't seem to be smeared in paint or soaked in water, and spoke in a low voice.
"I am going to clean up Alan. What happens after that depends on what this room looks like when I get back."
With that, he ushered his youngest out of the room, hoping that the flurry of activity he left in his wake would be productive. As he scrubbed the paint off Alan, the little boy explained the game and how everything would have been fine if he had not been taken by the gorgons. However, in doing so he admitted how Gordon had come up with the idea and drew the battle lines, John had come the team names and had brought in the hose, Scott had designed and built the barriers, Virgil supplied the ammo for both sides, and Alan had been running back and forth from the kitchen to bring his team bowls off water. That is, until his capture and transformation.
"But I wouldn't fight Scotty and Johnny. No sir," Alan declared. "Would have just let 'em spray me so all the paint went away. Then I would be a titan again and then those gorgons would have been sorry. We would've gotten them, Daddy, cause titans rule!"
How do you like that? Up to his ears in trouble with the lot of them, and he continues to incriminate himself, as well as the rest of his brothers, in hopes that only one or two would get punished. Ah, the mind of four-year-old; there was nothing else like it.
What do you think? Am I any good at writing one-shots?