Hey you guys, I'm really sorry that I haven't gotten around to updating more often; you'd be surprised how hectic my life can be. But now it's summer, so that means I can actually get some typing time. So as a sorry, I'll be giving you three LONG chapters right off the bat. And now, because I've forgotten to include this, here's a disclaimer:

THE FOLLOWING CHARACTERS DO NOT BELONG TO ME (EXCEPTING IN MY DREAMS, OF COURSE). THEY BELONG TO UNCLE RICK.

And now, my patient subjugates, on to the story:

"Dad, I don't get why you're leaving," wailed a seven-year-old Piper. "You just got back from an audition, and now you're leaving again?"

"I'm sorry, Pipes, but my schedule just doesn't support single dads," Tristan replied amid a pile of crumpled laundry. "It's fine; Jane will watch you."

"O.K., O.K." reassured Tristan as he saw his daughter's light brown face crumple up and start screaming at the drop of the 'J'. "I'll get Poppa Tom, how's that? Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Great, I'll get Poppa Tom." And as Tristan maneuvered around the one room apartment with a red-headed pipsqueak attached to his leg, he got a corded phone, brought it to his ear, and cried out "dad, help me."

After a thirty minute conversation, primarily consisting of Grandpa Tom convincing Tristan that he was in fact a good father, with perfectly fine genetics, and no mental health issues that emerge after seven years of fatherhood.

'Jumpin' Jehosaphat,' thought Grandpa Tom 'I shoulda wrung the highlights out of that witch the second I met her. Lord knows I didn't cause this mess.' "O.K., Thomas, I'm coming," soothed Poppa Tom. 'Don't get your bloody knickers in a twist," he grumbled internally.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Grandpa Tom walked into the apartment with an old book and a paper bag he was clutching around the neck. "Is anyone here?!"

Tristan walked into the room carrying Piper slung onto his left shoulder. He had changed into a dark brown collarless sweater, and well worn blue jeans, along with a pair of thin white socks. Piper was wearing white capri khakis with a bright orange shirt reading Daddy's Girl across the top. Her brown hair was pulled into a tight bun, and freckles dotted her face. When she noticed Poppa Tom, however, she jumped off Tristan's shoulder and ran towards Gramps.

"Poppa!" yelled Piper as she jumped into his arms. She breathed in the welcoming scent of tobacco and the earth. She snuggled into his chest as Grandpa reached up to pat her hair. But after the first pat, his hand recoiled in disgust. 'I wonder why?' pondered Piper. 'Maybe Daddy's wondering too.'

"What's wrong, Dad?" inquired Tristan as he sat down on the other burgundy, cracked armchair. "What's wrong with her hair? Then again, the only hairstyles you ask for is 'bald, bald, or extra bald.'"

Grandpa Tom reached over to give Tristan an extra-hard thunk on the head. "This hairstyle, manly men don't create such girly hairstyles." He took a long swig from his paper bag and then continued, "and I saw your hand reaching earlier for my spirits here," and with that he patted the bottle, "but if you can make your daughter have a hairstyle worthy of Oprah herself, I'm sure you're fully capable of getting your own damn booze."

Grandpa Tom then leaned back into his chair, and was in the process of lighting a cigarette when he was used by Piper as a launching pad. "What the-"

"Look Grandpa," giggled Piper as she yanked off Tristan's socks. "I painted Daddy's toes!" They were bright pink, and accented the major blush creeping onto Tristan's cheeks.

Poppa Tom had a face that even Squidward couldn't rival. "What the hell is on your toes?! I oughta-"

"Look, Dad," sighed Tristan, "when your daughter asks to paint your toes, then damn right are you gonna let her paint your toes."

Grandpa Tom just tossed his booze into Tristan's lap. "Something tells me you need this more than I do." He then gathered Piper into his lap.

"Here we go, my little Piper. I'm going to tell you a story that my grandpa taught me when I was your age. It's about your heritage."

Tristan rolled his eyes, but leaned back into his chair.

"Thank you son. Now, here we go…"

There are different opinions about the stars. Some say they are balls of light, others say they are human, but most people say they are living creatures covered with luminous fur or feathers.

One night a hunting party camping in the mountains noticed two lights like large stars moving along the top of a distant ridge. Theywondered and watched until the light disappeared on the other side. The next night, and the next, they saw the lights again moving along the ridge, and after talking over the matter decided to go on the morrow and try to learn the cause. In the morning they started out and went until they came to the ridge, where, after searching some time, they found two strange creatures about so large (making a circle with outstretched arms), with round bodies covered with fine fur or downy feathers, from which small heads stuck out like the heads of terrapins. As the breeze played upon these feathers showers of sparks flew out.

The hunters carried the strange creatures back to the camp, intending to take them home to the settlements on their return. They kept them several days and noticed that every night they would grow bright and shine like great stars, although by day they were only balls of gray fur, except when the wind stirred and made the sparks fly out. They kept very quiet, and no one thought of their trying to escape, when, on the seventh night, they suddenly rose from the ground like balls of fire and were soon above the tops of the trees. Higher and higher they went, while the wondering hunters watched, until at last they were only two bright points of light in the dark sky, and then the hunters knew that they were stars.

(Not My story, link is )

When the story was done, Piper was asleep. Tristan picked her up from Grandpa's lap, and put her in their bed. He picked up the toys, and he wiped the applesauce from the table. He went to remove the nail polish, and he swept the floor. After all that, he sat down onto the chair, and waited patiently until his dad woke up. It was o.k., he was used to being patient. When he didn't, he got a blanket, put it on his dad, kissed his forehead, and went outside to sleep under the stars.

And that's the end of that dry spell! I was going to make it longer, but I preferred this ending. Review, review, review!, and check out my other stories, I'm just about to start two, and update the other one. Sorry again, and flame on!