He spun around on the stool, it's ancient hinges creaking in protest. His head jerked to the left as it came to a sudden stop. Swinging his feet to the right, he made the seat spin upwards.
"MAX!" The boy stopped, mid-spin. "Cant you just sit still?" Owen begged. Max nodded, "Sorry, Uncle Owen." He looked down and quietly began to stare at an interesting stain on the floor.
A pen caught his attention as it hung precariously off the edge of the counter. He grabbed it. Silently as he could manage on the stool, Max eased his way around. He saw a sheet of paper and began drawing.
That is one quiet kid Owen thought as he looked over the chart he was studying. He reached in his coat pocket for a pen to sign off on the report, but felt none. He searched the pockets of his jeans, and yet again came up empty handed. Then he heard the faint scratch of scribbling.
"Hey, Max? Whatcha doin'?" Owen asked as he came up behind the small child. The boy beamed with pride, "I gave the ladies dresses, 'cause they didn't have any clothes." He shifted and held up the magazine for him to see.
Owen groaned. Every single bunny on every single page had been covered with scratches of blue ink. Circles, triangles, and other awkward shapes that were hard to distinguish erased any traces of naked flesh. "That's, ahhh, that's lovely, kid. Thanks. Thanks alot."
A/N: hahahahah :D who knew Owen kept his porn at the office?
