Scratch That

Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast.

Just a one-shot that I couldn't resist doing after rewatching the movie today. One-shot. I'm not sure if the mention of circuses is actually correct--don't know where circuses are from, don't know what time they were created. Sorry if they don't exist in this time zone. Hope you enjoy! Please review!

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Chip was very stressed indeed.

He'd been fidgeting in his little cupboard for at least five minutes straight now, awake, unable to go to sleep. And how could he? With such a persistant problem attacking him, how could he get any rest? No, that problem had to be solved. But how?

He scanned the kitchen closely, looking for anything that he could use to ease this issue that had come up. But what could he use? Even if he did find anything, how would he use it? He was much too small to do anything now, and one wrong move could bring a tray smashing down onto his fragile porcelain frame.

He muttered under his breath in annoyance, biting his lip hard to stop from crying out in aggravation. What could he do?

It felt very strange indeed to be a teacup; the first time he tried to climb down a staircase, he almost broke himself into two even pieces. It was more than likely that when--or if--Chip recovered human form, he'd never be afraid of heights again, and could easily jump off the roof of a building without a scratch.

He was a professional. Perhaps he could go to the circus one day.

But not now. Though he'd probably be admitted into the circus as a talking teacup, he couldn't go; he had to solve this problem first!

"Grahh!" Chip said, trying to imitate a lion--and failing miserably--hoping that he could scare away the problem. Needless to say, this did not work, and only made him a little hoarse in the voice.

He jumped around slightly in the cupboard--something that he was always forbidden to do. Though it wasn't quite as much fun as jumping on the bed, the cupboard was his bed now. Still, according to his mother, he might wake up his siblings or, even worse, dislodge the nails in the structure of the shelf, which will fall, and the force of the fall will cause him and his siblings to shatter.

Whatever that meant.

But he didn't care now. He'd rather have another bit of him chipped off than suffer this pain any longer! How much longer would he be forced to endure this? He wanted it to go away, but he couldn't.

"Is something wrong, dear?"

His mother came into view, hopping onto the counter, watching Chip go through his terrible agony. And needless to say, something was wrong. Something was very wrong indeed. It was, indeed, so terrible that it was the end of the world! ...Indeed.

And suddenly, he let it go. He confessed to his mother of all his troubles, of what had been causing him such pain, as he struggled to return into his normal physical state (or what would be considered normal for the time being). All that was at last revealed, a small trickle of tea leaking from Chip's eyes.

"Mama," Chip whined, "I have an itch behind my handle!"

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Could be more well-written, but I have to go take a shower.

What did you think? Please review!