Hmm, I seem to be working a bit in reverse here! The last chapter featured the boys at Christmas, and this one features them at Halloween!
I also know I touched on this theme in chapter four - Is There A Doctor In The House? And, wow, was that really seven chapters ago? How time flies when you're having fun. Or, in my case, torturing a certain Tracy!
Anyway, this latest tale from Tracy Island will expand on the shenanigans that we saw in that chapter - most notably from Gordon - until poor Scott is left with a serious case of the wibblies.
Again, I must thank Sailor Centauri, who keeps supplying my bunnies with these wonderful ideas. I really hope I'm doing them justice for you, Sailor! :o)
Oh, Brother!
Chapter Twelve - House Of Horrors
06.38. And before he'd had his first cup of coffee, or breakfast, or - hell, just his damn shower! - Scott Tracy knew it was going to be one of those days.
Or, if he wanted to be really pedantic, just one day. 31st October. That one date on the calendar when Tracy Island turned into Trick Or Trick.
Nope, no treats here, kids. Just every damn prank that its master of prankery could squeeze into its hours.
Yes, Gordon Cooper Tracy just loved Halloween. For reasons that were already wibblingly clear, his eldest brother hated it.
He'd spent several minutes now, lying here in his bed - transfixed by the stuff of nightmares that had greeted him as soon as he'd woken up. Yes - there really was a scarily lifelike tarantula crawling across the floor of his room. If not for the soft whirr of its mechanics, he'd have sworn the damn thing was real. Instead, rolling his eyes at the giveaway sniggers of laughter from behind his door, he climbed out of bed and, resisting the urge to stamp on Mr Fuzzylegs, padded into his bathroom.
Halfway through the door, he stopped - scanning every inch of its frame for more of Gordon's ghoulish booby-traps. Yes, this was the day when their resident prankster did his finest work. With the house now looking like a set from an old horror movie, Scott knew the fun and games had only just started.
Hell, just the simple pleasure of his morning shower had now turned into the Tracy version of Psycho. He could almost visualize Virgil lurking behind that screen, screeching out the music that, even now, made his teeth grate. Jeez, it was worse than scratching your fingers down one of John's old chalkboards.
Still, so far so good. He couldn't see or feel any tripwires, and the space of floor between him and the bath-suite looked surprisingly but reassuringly clear.
Knowing better than to take any of that for granted, he then used every inch of his height to let him peer into the bath itself - rolling his eyes at the line of pumpkins that grinned so freakishly back at him.
Yup, nothing like some good old fashioned, zombie-fied pumpkins to get your Halloween off to a flying start. And he had to credit the Terrible Twins, too, for all the effort they'd put into them. Still, at least they were easier to handle than last year's little 'bathtub buddy.' Even now, Scott had no idea on how that pygmy alligator had found its way onto the island, let alone his bathroom. Given how quickly Gordon had adopted it, though - ye-ah. He had a pretty fair idea.
Nibbles, though. What kind of self-respecting, world-saving hero names his pet alligator Nibbles?!
The same kind, no doubt, who'd made it his life's mission to scare the living jeebies out of the world's most long suffering big brother. These pumpkins, however impressive, were just the warm up act for whatever fiendish delights were still to come.
Rolling his eyes at the thought, Scott picked them up and placed them on his bathroom cabinet - again, searching it thoroughly for hidden surprises. Last year, he'd opened it without thinking, before he'd fully woken up - and almost screamed the house down when a perfectly coiled snake delivered his favourite soap between two blood-drippy fangs.
Armed with a carefully rolled towel, he then adopted the best defensive stance that Kayo had taught him, and opened the nearest door - so silently grateful that none of his brothers, and one in particular, had seen so much effort to defend himself wasted on harmless stocks of soap, toothpaste and hair gel.
Just to be sure, though, Scott still opened every bottle and squeezy tube, giving their contents a cautious sniff. Okay, so he'd had a stinking cold at the time, and hadn't been able to tell the difference - but trying to wash your hair with toothpaste really wasn't a good move.
Again, though, so far so good. Everything as it should be - enough to lull him into a relieved sense of security as he stepped into the shower, and turned it on.
Bad move, because - hmm, nothing happened. No glorious thunder of water that usually did its own Niagara Falls over his shoulders. Not even a dribble to wet his toothbrush.
Still frowning, he unscrewed the head and shook it. Nope, no blockages that he could see, and - well, as Virgil would say, just give it more juice. Power that baby up!
Yes, that was Mr Mechanic's answer to everything. And, of course, it was his hapless brother's bad move number two.
*CRICK*
*splat*
"Gaaaaaaahhhhh!"
Ooooookaaay. So that explained the curious shortage of ketchup from last night's dinner.
Yup, most of the damn stuff was now splotched all over him - turning the fearless leader of International Rescue into a six foot four inch tomato.
Wonderful.
Stepping out of the shower again, Scott deliberately ignored the reflection that he could see in the mirror beside him. Come hell, high water, lack of water - and sticky red ketchup - he was going to retain his dignity today if it killed him.
Oooooops. Wrong thing to think.
Bracing himself for whatever might be lurking in the taps on his sink unit, Scott turned them on by the tips of his outstretched fingers - still waiting for several minutes, just to make sure that the water that came pouring out of it stayed nice and clear. What, was it the previous year, or the one before that, when some fiendish little so-and-so had stuck a pack of exploding glitter up its faucet? Even now, he was sure some of it still twinkled through his hair.
Ten minutes later, thankfully de-tomatoed, Scott stepped out of his bathroom - only just quashing a yelp as Mr Fuzzylegs greeted him with a wiggle of its mandibles.
"Do that again, buddy, and I'll moosh your circuits right into the carpet."
Whirring its circuits while it still had the chance, one mechanised arachnid scuttled off to find easier prey, leaving Scott to watch its retreat with a satisfied grin. Yeah, that helped him feel better.
Ticked Off Tracy 1 - Mr Fuzzylegs 0.
"Yaaaaaaah! GOOOOOOR-DOOOOOON!"
Uh oh. The same couldn't be said right now for Virgil. Still, it was an odd kind of comfort for Scott to know that he wasn't the only target of today's shenanigans. And as years of experience had taught him, if you couldn't beat your devil of a little brother, you just had to join him.
Still smiling at the sounds of spider-battle from along the hall, Scott opened his dresser and, one quick checkover later, pulled out a box from its furthest corner. To his greater relief, the seal of tape around it hadn't been broken, and - ooooh, yeah! Showtime!
Yes, for this one day only, Scott Carpenter Tracy was going to beat his younger brother at his own game. And if that meant dressing up in the best (and biggest) Frankenstein costume that he'd been able to find, then so be it. By the time he'd put it all on, daubed on some nicely realistic blood, cut his eyeholes out of its mask, and glued on its neck-bolts, he could have given Boris Karloff a serious run for his money.
Giving himself a final glance in his mirror, the normally dashingly handsome leader of International Rescue waddled out of his room to find his first victim. And was this really too good to be true, or was that unsuspecting victim already in sight?
His back turned so conveniently towards him, all Scott could see of him was that unmistakeable, coppery blond head. Engrossed in sending Mr Fuzzylegs to his next port of call, Gordon had no idea he was there, and - yeah, buddy. Payback time.
"GYYYY-ARRRRRRGGGHHHHH!"
Yeah, that would do it. Jeez, he'd made such a great job of that ghastly roar, he'd almost scared himself out of his neck-bolts. So yeah, that'd teach him.
"Hey, Scott."
Or not. Yeah, trust your younger brother to thoroughly burst your bubble. Not even turning to face him, Gordon waved a vague hand instead, and carried on with his twiddling - leaving his brother to stare back at him, utterly deflated.
Oh, this wasn't fair! It wasn't fair at all! All that work he'd put in, to join in the spirit of things, and - oooooooh! Maybe he'd have better luck with Virgil! Thankfully recovered from his encounter with Mr Fuzzylegs, his middle brother was still just begging to be boo-ed out of his boots.
"BOOOO!"
Still nose deep in his latest composition as he wandered through the den, Virgil didn't even bother to look up. Instead - aww, he had to be kidding!
"Hey, Scott."
Oh, thank God he had this mask on - at least it hid the mortified face beneath it. Bad enough to be outsmarted by one little brother, but two? Damn, that was just downright embarrassing. All he needed for this humiliation to be complete would be for Alan to -
"Hey, Scott."
- yup, that would do it.
Yeah, no doubt about it - the whole damn universe was against him. More convinced of that than ever, Scott shuffled to the nearest couch and flopped onto it - only to fly straight back off it again as Mr Fuzzylegs scuttled between his feet.
"Gyaaaaaahh!"
Throwing his fiercest glare towards its fiendish controller, he then froze. Let it turn into a puzzled frown. Ooookay, why was Gordon looking as freaked out as he was? Why were they all looking as freaked out as he was? And why could he hear that mechanised monster whirring behind him, when the damn thing was still scuttling in the opposite dir-?
Halfway through that last question, its answer hit Scott at exactly the same time as it hit Virgil. And Gordon. And Alan. With the same, admirable unity, four voices shared the same, horrified yell as four horrified brothers leapt off the floor, and onto the nearest couch.
"GGYYYYY-AAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH!"