14 June 2015
Yes, I am already sick of writing Bandana Dee. He practically has two fanfictions devoted to him and I am READY TO SKIP THE BANDANA DEE BITS IN THIS FIC. You know. In the next chapter.
03. Excessive Help
of Bandana Dee, who may have mastered the spear but still has an unbearably weak stamina.
Kirby could be a little lazy sometimes, and even a tad selfish when it came to certain things, although that never really interfered when it came to saving the world or worlds or dimensions or universe.
Specifically, helping people.
"Bandana Dee," Kirby addressed, swooping the plastic bags from the waddle dee's grasp, "y'know, if you needed help carrying things back and forth, you should ask one or a bunch of the minions back in the castle to help, otherwise you're gonna collapse like jelly—speaking of jelly, how much pudding do I still have—?"
Bandana Dee, who was not thrilled at the thought of Kirby assisting him in carrying plastic bags containing cabbages, thrust a stub out and managed to safely hook onto a single plastic bag and retrieve it, but the other two were still in the clutches of the pink puffball, who did not seem to retain the thought of returning it to Bandana Dee anytime soon.
"Kirby," Bandana Dee said, mocking Kirby from earlier, "thank you for your help, I really do appreciate it. But you don't have to help me—really, I can manage it—don't give me that dubious look. I do it all the time."
"You do?" Kirby echoed. "I really thought you were gonna melt into a puddle of Band-Aid goo if I hadn't stepped in."
And with that, all three of them were back in Kirby's hands. Bandana Dee didn't cope with sudden changes or surprises very well.
If any of the villagers actually knew Bandana Dee worked in the castle, rumours would spread around like wildfire. It was one of the moments where Bandana Dee thanked himself for looking so pathetic and frail—okay, not really, and most of the waddle dees looked weak, anyway. The villagers hadn't stepped inside the castle once, so they wouldn't recognise him at all. Probably.
Meanwhile, Kirby hummed as he trotted down the path with Bandana Dee trailing behind him. And of course, the pink puffball thought it was perfectly acceptable and normal to waltz to the castle and plonk a bunch of plastic bags there with Bandana Dee behind him. Of course.
"You really don't need to help," Bandana Dee repeated, feeling a little more of a failure than he already felt he was. Another attempt, another failure. "Kirby. Kirby. This is getting out of hand."
"This is getting out of your hand," Kirby retorted, holding the bags higher up so that Bandana Dee wouldn't be able to reach them easily. "Why don't you want my help, anyway?"
Because Bandana Dee liked to be responsible. And doing that was making him feel anything but. Not that he'd say that, of course.
"If the king sees you helping me, he could fire me, or he'll decide to do something really bad again." Those were substitute reasons, but they weren't half bad, at least.
"It'll be fine. He won't see anything." Kirby waved it off, flicking his stub flippantly.
Bandana Dee wasn't sure whether to feel particularly blessed or particularly stupefied.
