"I don't know what happened to my son," Blade said. "but his ankle is really hurting him!"
"Arson," Slash's mother said gently. "you were out with my son, what happened?"
Arson quickly shoved a piece of chicken in his mouth and started chewing it, sitting beside him was his father, he very rarely said a word while he was eating, most of the time when he was spoken to all he'd do would be to nod his head and go uh huh. His father was wearing a dark grey button up shirt and light gray pants, his brown tan jacket was hanging on the back of his chair. He had bullets for top teeth, the top of them was bronze, the bottom of the bullets was silver, his lower teeth were silver. Looking over to the side he saw Slash's mother, a beautiful woman with brunette hair, a few parts of it was streaked blonde and chestnut, her dark red lips stretched into a wide, dazzling smile, her brown eyes shone brightly. She was wearing an Egyptian skirt and a matching shirt, on her feet were light brown sandals.
"He fell," Arson said quickly. "he fell off his skateboard."
"He fell off his skateboard..." Blade repeated.
"Why didn't you tell us that when he came in?" Slash's mother asked.
"I figured..." Arson started.
"You figured that he'd just walk up to us on a swollen ankle without damaging it further?" Blade said.
"Yeah," Arson whispered. "something like that."
His uncle nodded his head and dug his fork into his piece of chicken, his long pure white hair was tied up, it was always up when he ate, Arson could see that his silver spikes, lighter than his sons, were out. His uncle was wearing black jeans and a gray and red shirt, his shoes were black. Sitting beside him was Slash, another chair had been brought up to the table so that he could rest his ankle, it had been discovered that he had nearly broken it.
"Lil Arson done come in with a ver bad chin." he heard his six armed uncle say.
"So uncle," Arson spoke up quickly. "how was the trip?"
His uncle slid his plate forward and placed one of his arms on the back of his chair, sitting beside him was his son. He had hunched his shoulders forward when the question had been asked and had cleared his throat loudly. His brother was wearing a green long sleeve button up shirt, over it was a brown leather vest with a pair of holsters that housed two Colt .45's, and blue jeans, a brown belt held them up, a pair of holsters hung from the belt and they housed two more Colt .45's, around his neck was a green kerchief, he had black cowboy boots on his feet with silver spurs behind the heel, on his head was a brown cowboy hat. His brother had brown hair and eyes, the same color as his father's, like his father he had extra arms and had two arms stitched to the side of his shirt.
"So you hurt your chin," his father said. "how bad was it Tex?"
"Lil feller done come in drippin' blood all over the place." his uncle replied. "I a-made sure to bandage it real good."
"Good, good."
His father wrapped his hand around his shoulder and squeezed it a little too tightly, Arson pulled to the side too fast and nearly fell from his chair. When he sat back in his chair he looked at his father and shrugged his shoulders. Sitting on his plate was an almost finished chicken thigh, potatoes and green beans. Digging his fork into the potatoes, he intended to not eat the beans, he wasn't a big fan of veggies anyways. One time he had tried hiding his peas in his napkin during a family picnic, his father had seen him tuck the last of them in and had made him eat them, he had almost made him eat the napkin too.
"How was the trip Four Way?" Arson asked his brother.
Arson and Four Way Shot were half brothers as well, they preferred to be called full brothers though, they were very close. Four Way Shot raised one of his four arms and made a slashing movement with it. He kept his eyes to his plate, he didn't look up. The table had gone quiet, everyone was looking down at their plate, even his younger half brother's were quiet which was abnormal as they were always chattering about something that had happened earlier in the day.
"Everything put up for the night?" Slash's mother asked. "The chickens, pigs and horses?"
"Yep, I done put all o' them up." Four Way Shot's father said.
"I hear it's going to storm later on tonight," Slash's mother said.
"Did you encounter any storms while on the trip uncle?" Arson asked.
His uncle cleared his throat and slid from his chair, when his feet touched the floor he stood up tall, he reached twenty-seven inches, roughly two foot four inches, tall. He nodded to his son and left the room without saying a word. Arson didn't understand, he had been asking his uncle the same questions over and over again about the trip and not a single one had been answered. Pushing his plate forward and sliding from his chair, he made for the living room.
"You still have food on your plate boy." his father yelled.
"I'm done eating," Arson yelled. "I mean I'm full."
"Get your ass back to the table and finished eating." his father said.
"I'm full." Arson repeated.
"Do I have to repeat what I just said?"
He didn't feel like walking back to the table and finishing his food so he kept walking. He was half way up the stairs when he heard his father push his chair out. Picking his feet up faster he ran up the remaining steps, when he turned around he saw that his father was walking towards the stairs quickly, he was at the first step within a minute. Swallowing hard, he turned around and continued walking down the hallway, when he reached his room he heard his father clear his throat.
"You'll either walk your ass back downstairs or I'll drag your ass down." his father said.
"I'm not hungry dad!" Arson exclaimed. "Seriously."
"Now!" his father yelled.
"Torch, he said he's full."
Arson didn't have to turn around to find out who had spoken, he knew who it was. The woman standing in the middle of the hallway was Four Way Shot's mother. Earlier she had been wearing a tan button shirt long sleeve shirt with red stitching, red jeans and red boots and a red cowgirl hat, her dark brown hair had been flowing past her shoulders, her dark brown eyes full of fire. Before supper she had been complaining of stomach pains and had gone to rest.
"Girlie," his father said. "how's your stomach?"
"Better, thanks." Four Way Shot's mother replied.
"Good," his father said, nodding his head. "if you'll excuse me, I've got to take my son downstairs to finish his supper."
"I'm full dammit!" Arson snarled.
His father took a menacing step towards him, swallowing hard he backed up, pressing his back against his door hard. Four Way Shot's mother cleared her throat and walked forward, she stopped when she reached his side. Her cheeks were flushed red and her eyes were bloodshot he could see, she wasn't wearing what she had been earlier, now she was wearing a light blue gown and blue slippers.
"Look, I'm not feeling well," she said. "Arson said he's not hungry and he don't want to finish his food."
"You know my policy." his father said. "He eats everything, and I mean everything, on his plate."
"We have no problem with you leaving your veggies for last," Four Way Shot's mother said. "sometimes even you leave the table without finishing your food."
"Regardless he needs to finish what he has on his fucking plate." his father said.
"Regardless my ass!" Four Way Shot's mother exclaimed. "He's not hungry, leave him be!"
His father's eyes shown a bright red and he heard him growl deeply, loudly. He saw that his father had balled his hand into a fist, his right arm was a flamethrower and he knew how to use it well. Four Way Shot's mother bent low and gently wrapped her arms around him, picking him up and hugging him tightly against her. His father nodded his head and turned around, he could of sworn he had heard his father say something about Four Way Shot's mother needing to get another test done.
"You still not feeling well?" Arson asked.
"Yeah, my stomach still feels a little queasy." Four Way Shot's mother replied.
"Have you had anything to eat?" Arson asked, worried. "Or anything to drink? Mountain Dew or that Seven Up shit might help some."
"It might yes," she sighed. "no I think I'll be better by tomorrow, even you have your bad days."
"I'm sleepy," Arson yawned. "I think I'll go to bed now."
Four Way Shot's mother carried him into his room and gently placed him on his bed, when he started undoing the buttons on his shirt she turned around, he could have sworn that she had placed her hand over her mouth. Before climbing into bed he placed his hand on her leg, she turned around and smiled at him warmly. She leaned over and kissed him on his forehead, she left before he could say goodnight.