Summary: Upon discovering that Anti-Cosmo has issues with his mother, Foop decides to track her down and get them to make up, unaware of just how much the bad blood there is between them.
Remember when I promised you all a happy chapter? Uh... It's happier than the previous one. That's something. If it's any consolation, there's this one scene with the pixies that I'm pretty proud of. Let's just say that Sanderson and Foop should have their own sitcom.
Trigger Warning: Domestic abuse
Episode Required Before Reading: Down the Rabbit Hole
Mama's Boy
It was Saturday, which meant no school, which meant that Foop just wanted some much needed alone time. Unfortunately for him, his mother had other plans. As he sat in his room, leaning up against a sleeping Vladimir and playing Minimon Lunar on his Wandendo 3DX, she decided that, just as he was about to beat the third boss, it would be a swell idea to plop something kind of heavy on his head.
Vladimir woke up but didn't move, and Foop groaned in annoyance. "Give me a minute to beat this boss and save my game." He did so (not without a triumphant fist pump) and turned off his 3DX. He poofed away his game console and crossed his arms. "Okay, Mother, what's on my head, and would you be so kind as to remove it from my head? It's giving me a headache."
Anti-Wanda lifted the thing off his head and showed it to him. "Ya know what this is, sugar plum?"
"A: stop calling me 'sugar plum.' And, B: it appears to be a large, dusty book."
"A: I will never stop calling you that. And, Q: it ain't just any ol' book, Foop. This here's an old scrapbook I found in the attic. You wanna see some embarrassing pictures of your father?"
Foop grinned. "Do I?"
"I don't know. That's why I'm asking."
Foop patted the space next to him. "I totally do!"
Anti-Wanda plopped down beside him. Vladimir waddled to her other side and sat down, apparently as curious as his square master. Anti-Wanda opened the book to a random page and pointed to a picture of two boys - one of them still in his cubic form - playing a board game. "This looks like your daddy and your uncle, Anti-Schnozmo, playing Scrabble."
"Wow. Dad liked that game, even then, huh?" Foop commented. Then, a certain picture caught his attention. It featured his looney, amnesiac grandfather, Anti-Clark (obviously, long before he lost his marbles), grinning ear-to-ear and holding one arm out of the camera's range, like he was the one taking the picture. His other arm was wrapped around a chubby but pretty woman who was giving the camera a cool, relaxed smile. Foop pointed to the woman. "Hey, who's this lady?"
Did his mother tense up? Maybe he'd imagined it. "Oh, that's your Grandma Anti-Bethany. Your daddy's mommy."
"Really?" Huh. Other than their hair color, they didn't seem to have much in common physically. Personality, perhaps? "How come I've never met her?"
So, she had tensed up. "Uh, your pa and nana… They don't really get along that great."
Interesting. Foop raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?" She blinked at him. "Care to explain?"
Anti-Wanda frowned deeper. "Hun, some things ain't my things to explain. If your daddy wants you to know, he'll tell you."
"I'm just a bit confused, is all. I mean, you and I are mother and son, and we're, as Forrest Gump would say, like peas and carrots."
"Well, yeah, but not all parents and kids get along like we do. And, there's all kinds of reasons. You'll just have to ask him yourself."
"You seem like you know why."
"I do, and I don't. It's kinda hard to explain. You can ask him, but don't be surprised if he don't feel like talking about it. Now, put it outta your head, and look at this here picture of your daddy in the bathtub!"
"Mother, I don't want to put it out of my head! I want to- Oh. Oh, that is blackmail material if I ever saw it!"
Foop knocked on the door to his father's private study. Anti-Cosmo, covered from head to toe in purple goo, floated out into the hall and closed the door behind him. Seeing his son's befuddlement, he said, "Don't ask." He poofed himself clean. "Did you need something, dear boy?"
Shaking off the new questions in his head, Foop cleared his throat. "Yes, well, Mother and I were going through some old photos-" He snorted. "Love you in the tub, by the way." His father scowled. "Anyway, I have something to ask you."
"Was I aware of that picture being taken? No. Not until my stupid dad put it in his stupid scrapbook."
"Actually, Mother mentioned that you and your mother don't get along, and I was wondering why-"
Anti-Cosmo put a hand out in front of him. "Stop. Son, I understand you're curious, but I'd really rather not get into it. My mother and I have some issues with each other, and that's all I'm comfortable saying." Gross suckling noises came from inside the study. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to put something back in its cage." He bolted back into the room, slamming the door in his son's face.
Foop hummed in thought. Now, his curiosity was peaked. And, honestly, he just couldn't comprehend how a mother and son could dislike each other. He and his friends (minus Crocker, whose family was filled to the brim with weirdos) got along great with their parents. Why not his father and grandmother?
Someone coughed behind him, and he turned around. "Foop," Kitty said, "I couldn't help overhearing, and I think you might be treading troubled waters."
Foop crossed his arms. "Explain."
"Look, your grandma… Let's just say that she never really-"
"Wait a minute!" Foop snapped. "You know about this, and I don't? I can see my mother knowing, but you?"
Kitty shrugged. "It just kinda came up one day. Anyway, I don't think you wanna mess with this." Crashes and Anti-Cosmo's screams came from his study. "I should probably help him with that." She flew to Anti-Cosmo's rescue, leaving Foop to his thoughts.
If there was one thing that every pixie in the world hated, it was being interrupted during his lunch break. Well, that and the coffee machine being broken. Which it was. Naturally, Sanderson thought, that would be the day when something stupid would happen. He sighed and, grudgingly leaving his Chinese food on the break room table, pinged to the main hallway, where the all the screaming was coming from. He was surprised to see Anti-Cosmo's kid being hauled off by Carson, one of their security guards. What was the kid's name again? Anti-Poof, right? Either way, the kid was wiggling a lot in the large pixie's arms and calling Carson a "spider-sucker," which, given the context, was probably an anti-fairy swear word.
Ordinarily, Sanderson would have just shook his head and returned to his lo mein, but the boy was going on about wanting to talk to the Head Pixie. Hm. Did this have something to do with Anti-Cosmo? If it did, HP would want to know about it. Ignoring his growling stomach (the one day he'd skipped breakfast…), Sanderson flew up to the more muscular pixie. "What seems to be the problem, Carson?"
"Caught this kid trying to break into the boss's office," Carson informed.
Anti-Poof huffed. "I wasn't trying to break in. I was succeeding, and, I would have gotten away with it, if weren't for you, ya meddling pencil pusher."
"Put him down," Sanderson said. "I'll deal with this."
Carson blinked, the only indication of his confusion. "You sure?"
Sanderson pointed to the floor in response. Carson shrugged, sat the child on the ground, handed the kid's magic bottle to Sanderson, and flew away.
Anti-Poof called after him, "Yeah, you better float away! You will rue the day you crossed me, you spider-sucking dummy-butt! I'll burn you! This floor will be lava!" He took a deep breath turned around. "Thanks, Stevenson. Now, if you'll excuse me-"
"My name is Sanderson," the pixie said, holding the bottle out of the child's reached. "Now, what in Grayscale's name are you doing here?"
Anti-Poof gave up trying to grab his bottle. "I'm not trying to cause trouble, if that's what you're insinuating. I just need to know someone's address, and I know that you pixies have information on everyone in the universe. Or, at least close to that. Now, take me to your leader!"
"You realize he's not even here."
"Say what now?"
"Our coffee machine is broken, so he went out to get himself some. But, if you really this address at this very moment, I can probably hook you up."
Anti-Poof gave him a suspicious once-over. "Why are you making with the nice? What's your angle, Sandy?"
"Don't call me 'Sandy.' And, my angle is that I wanna get back to my break before my lunch gets cold." Which, Sanderson thought bitterly, it probably was by now. He pinged the two of them to his cubicle and logged on to his computer. "What's the person's name?"
Anti-Poof frowned in thought. "Uh, what was it? Try Anti-Bethany Anti-Cosma. Though, I don't know if she still uses that last name or not."
"She does," Sanderson replied as a woman's picture appeared on the screen, "assuming this is the right person."
Anti-Poof smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I think that's her." He took a sticky note and pen from Sanderson's desk - without asking - and wrote down the address. "Thanks, man. You can get back to your break now."
Sanderson held out his hand. "Can I have my pen ba-" Poof! He lowered his hand. "Guess not."
Now that that nonsense was cleared up, he pinged himself back to his lunch (still warm, thank the Goddess) and found HP with a paper bag in one hand and a paper coffee cup in the other. "Hey, Sandy." He handed them to his vice president. "I brought you a latte and an everything bagel."
Sanderson swallowed back a grin. "Thanks. I haven't eaten yet, because something stupid happened."
"Oh?" HP picked up the paper cup, obviously containing his own coffee, that had been on the counter next to him and took a sip.
Sanderson sat his cup on the counter. "Yeah." He pulled the pre-cut bagel out of the bag, noting happily that his boss had also gotten him the cream cheese he liked, and put the two halves in the toaster. "Anti-Cosmo's kid showed up." HP raised an eyebrow, silently asking for details. Sanderson shrugged. "I don't know the whole story. He just kind of showed up and asked for the address of an Anti-Bethany Anti-Cosma."
HP's gray-violet eyes widened. "Did you give it to him?"
"...Today's not my day, is it?"
HP pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay. You didn't know this, so it's not your fault. But-" He was interrupted by the bagel popping back up, filling the air with the smell of onion and toasted poppy seeds. "Long story short, Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Bethany aren't exactly on the best of terms. I'd say more, but I'm sworn to secrecy. Hey, do you know if anyone's eating that lo mein over there?"
Now spreading the cream cheese on the bagel, Sanderson replied, "Take it. My friend gave me a bagel." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his boss crack a smile. Whether it was at the friend-comment or the free food, Sanderson wasn't sure, but he was hoping for the former.
Foop couldn't tell whether he was nervous or excited. Maybe both, as he grabbed his father by the hand and dragged him to the living room.
"Mother of the Head Pixie's mother, Foop," Anti-Cosmo said. "Will you please tell me who this friend of yours is?"
"Oh, I think you're already familiar with the woman in question," he said mysteriously.
"Do I want to know what that means?"
Foop let go of him as they flew into the living room. "Hey, he's here."
The anti-fairy on the couch looked up at them and smiled, though it didn't quite reach her dark red, almost black eyes. She spoke with a slight British accent. "Hello, Anti-Cosmo."
Foop looked up at his father and immediately deflated upon seeing how...something the man was. He couldn't quite read the expression, but it wasn't a happy one. A fact which was made all the more obvious, when he grabbed his son's hand and flew him through the house and into his room, saying "no" in rapid-fire succession and gesturing wildly with his free hand the entire time. Just when Foop thought his brain would melt if he heard that two-letter word one more time today, his father brought them into his son's room and slammed the door behind them.
He whirled on his suddenly frightened child, livid. "You have thirty seconds to tell me what that is doing here. Go."
Foop swallowed hard, fighting to keep himself from shaking. "Uh-"
"Twenty-eight seconds."
"But, I just wanted you to be happy!" It was cheesy, but he was too scared to censor his mush. "I thought, if I brought Nana here, then you guys could patch things up. Don't hurt me!"
Anti-Cosmo softened considerably. "You know I'd never hurt you."
Foop looked at anything but the hurt in his father's eyes. Darn magic of guilt. "I-I didn't mean-"
"Uh, look, son," Anti-Cosmo said calmly. "Your heart is in the right place, and I won't punish you for only trying to help. That said, my relationship with my mother is...sort of beyond fixing."
Foop growled in frustration. "This is dumb! I try to do something nice for once in my life, and you don't even appreciate it!"
Anti-Cosmo rubbed his brow. "It's not that I don't appreciate your attempt, dear boy-"
"Then, humor me, man! Do you know how hard it was to get her here? It wasn't just convincing her to come, oh no! I was nearly mauled by a pixie the size of a bear! Whoops. You weren't suppose to hear that last part."
"Erm… We'll talk about that later." He sighed. "I can see that this means a lot to you, so I guess I'll...speak with my mother. But, I'm not promising anything."
Foop nodded, pacified. "That's all I ask."
She was still sitting there, when Anti-Cosmo got back. She looked perfectly innocent, tight curls piled up on her head in an unnecessary updo, dark purple dress that flowed like water every time she moved. Oh, but it was all a facade. He knew that like he knew his own name.
He cleared his throat. "Hello, Mother."
Anti-Bethany floated over to him, her plastic smile gone, now that she wasn't trying to fool anybody. "You are not my child."
"Yeah, I do believe we've taken enough DNA tests to contradict that statement." She scowled deeper, if such a thing was possible. "Look, my son- your grandchild - wants us to talk things over. I, personally, would rather frolic through a field of four-leaf clovers, but I promised him I'd make an effort to appeal to your sense of kindness and your motherly instinct. Do you actually have those things?"
His mother chuckled and shook her head. "Oh, Anti-Cosmo. You know I only give those things to Anti-Schnozmo."
He glowered at her. "I noticed. Which tells me that you do possess those traits. You just reserve them for your first-born."
"Well, perhaps, if you hadn't been forced upon me-"
"I don't see how it's my fault that anti-fairies end up birthing fairy-baby counterparts. A fairy is born, and, thirteen weeks later, poof! You're a mommy! One could argue that my brother was forced upon you-"
"Do not call him your brother! I have one child, and his name is Anti-Schnozmo!"
"You have two children, and the other one is named Anti-Cosmo!"
"That may be what's written on paper, but-"
"Why are we even arguing about this? It's basic biology, woman! Will you stop pretending that I'm not your son?"
"I don't care what you or any DNA test says. A mother always knows her child, and you are nothing more than a parasite that grew inside me until-"
"YOU THINK I ASKED TO BE BORN?" Growing up, he hadn't so much as flipped her the bird when her back was turned. He hadn't told his brother, because she was so sweet to Anti-Schnozmo. He hadn't told his father, because the man, even after the divorce, only saw her cruelty once and mistook it for the result of a heated custody battle. He hadn't told Barkley, his father's squirrel Spirit Guide, because Barkley would have maimed her by conjuring the world's prickliest cactus or something. His friends didn't know. No one in his family knew. HP had found out by random chance, and it took a lot of convincing to keep him quiet about it. Anti-Cosmo hadn't wanted to plague anyone else with his problems. Well, you know what they say about bottling your emotions, and his bottle had been plugged up for nearly ten thousand years. "You think I asked your and Dad's counterparts to have sex? You think I asked the Goddess to create me? NO! I bleeding didn't! Yet, you hated me the second I came out of the womb. I put up with everything, because I was a stupid child, and I thought that you could learn to love me. Oh, what a fool I was! I was young, naive, and desperate for a mother's heart. I was jealous of Anti-Schnozmo. Jealous, because you showered him in love, and what did you give me?" No answer. Just a startled look on her face and a flinch when he screamed, "ANSWER ME!"
Anti-Bethany regained her composure after a moment and cautiously backed away a bit. Just when he thought he was getting through to her, the coldness in her eyes made another crack in the dam behind his own. "Okay, calm down. There is no need for this nonsense."
"Nonsense? I'm being nonsensical? Me?" He yanked his shirt over his head, giving a full view every jagged scar on him, representatives of everything she put him through (and the star-shaped scar from his fagiggly gland transplant, but that one wasn't important). Someone inhaled sharply. Was that her or was it coming from behind him? He didn't care at the moment. "This. This is nonsense! I endured beatings and insults and that little enchanted whip you liked oh-so very much, because I wanted you to love me! I was nothing but kind to you, and all I got out of it was pain!" His vision was blurry. He mentally begged the dam to hold together. She would not get the satisfaction of seeing him cry. "Why? Why do you hate me so much?"
His mother took her time. Cruel as she was, she knew when she was treading troubled waters, and these particular waters lead to a very rocky shore. But, she was taking too long, and Anti-Cosmo felt an internal bomb being reset.
"Nothing to say?" he asked darkly. Ten… Nine...
Anti-Bethany regained her composure enough to conjure up her- Oh, Goddess. "You really want to know?"
"Put. The whip. Down." Eight… Seven…
"When I first looked into your eyes, I saw something. Something not quite right." Six… Five… "I couldn't make out what exactly it was at the time, but it didn't sit well with me."
"Put it down, Mother." Four…
"Oh, no. You're no son of mine. My son doesn't have unending evil in his eyes!"
"Woman, I am your ruler, and you will put that down, if you value your existence."
Instead of doing what he asked, she had the nerve to raise it, preparing to strike and bringing up his old fears. Three… "How a creature as dastardly as you became ruler in the first place is beyond me."
"Make a move," Anti-Cosmo growled. "I dare you."
She swung her arm down, but the blow didn't come. In its place was a loud, achingly familiar cry of, "NO!" before something shoved him to the ground. He felt no pain from the impact, because the pain brought to him by the following crack and scream hurt a thousand times worse.
Two…
His monocle had fallen off. He picked it up and placed it back over his bad eye and quickly regretted doing so. Anti-Bethany looked positively stunned, even dropped her weapon in shock. Foop - Sweet Darkness, how long had he been listening? - crouched down where his father had once been floating, blood trickling from just above his brow, face contorted in agony, violet eyes welling up. "Oh, spider-sucking bat dung!" He moaned through gritted teeth. "Son of a werewolf! And, other pained yet censored curses!"
A tear slipped through the cracks and down Anti-Cosmo's cheek. His son… His brave, stupid little boy...had taken the blow for him. His heart shattered, and his soul used the broken pieces for kindling. An ordinary whip would have been painful enough. An enchanted one, like hers? Pure, unrelenting, scar-inducing agony. Anti-Cosmo knew from experience.
His own mother...used it on his child.
One…
A choked, painful sob erupted from Foop's throat.
Boom.
Anti-Wanda didn't know why Kitty was fidgeting so much. They were gardening. The Spirit Guide usually loved doing that. Planting a seed in the dirt, the anti-fairy asked, "Something wrong, Kitty? You look like a dung beetle that done lost its shoes."
"I'll never understand what you just said," Kitty replied, stealing another glance at the castle. "Anti-Cosmo's upset. Like, really upset."
Anti-Wanda paused in her work. "Oh. Can you tell what's wrong?"
"Not really."
"Can you tell if it's one of them times when he wants comfort or when he just wants us to give him space?"
Kitty shrugged. "I'm still figuring out the difference. I think he wants comfort, but don't quote me on that."
A loud crack and a scream pierced the air.
Motherly instinct kicked in. Anti-Wanda grabbed Kitty by the arm. "We're going in there."
Growling like a feral wolverine, Anti-Cosmo shakily got to his feet. He felt his eyes burn with a magical glow. Anti-Bethany trembled at the sight. Oh, how he relished how small and pathetic she suddenly appeared. It was a beautiful role reversal. His chest tingled with the need to see his former tormentor suffer.
There was so much to say to her, but the most his fury would allow was, "You. Hit. Him."
"I-I-I'm sorry." She breathed. "I didn't mean to-"
"SILENCE!" Wind swirled through the room, sending objects flying in angry circles.
He cast a shield around his cowering child, unwilling to let the boy be hurt any worse. "Dad!" Foop called. "Daddy, you need to calm down!"
But, Anti-Cosmo didn't hear him. In that moment, all he cared about was revenge. And, he knew how to do it. He raised his hand, and sickly green ribbons of magic swirled around Anti-Bethany, blocking her from escaping. His mouth curled into a twisted grin. He wanted- No, he needed to hear her scream, to make her beg for mercy that would never come. He summoned the whip into his hand-
"Ow!"
-and turned his head toward the noise. Anti-Wanda and Kitty stood in the doorway, the former clutching her arm, her eyebrows pinched and her crooked teeth clenched in pain. Silver leaked from her open wound. A piece of bloody glass flew by him.
Oh, Darkness, he'd cut his wife!
The wind stopped, the flying furniture and debris crashed into the floorboards, the shield lifted from Foop, and Anti-Bethany could move again. Anti-Cosmo wished that looks really could kill, because the one he gave his so-called mother would have ended her then and there. His voice was eerily calm. "I suggest you leave while you still have all your limbs attached. If you return, you will not leave with all your limbs attached. Is that clear?"
Anti-Bethany swallowed hard and nodded, fumbling with her wand and poofing - *fear!* - her sorry rear-end out of there.
Anti-Cosmo allowed himself a few shaky breaths, composing himself enough to tend to his wife. Or, his son. Or- Um…
"I'm-I'm fine," Anti-Wanda said. Her eyes widened, as she and Kitty raced to Foop's side. "Sugar plum! What happened to you?"
"I told you to stop calling me- Don't touch it! Oh Goddess, that burns like fire!" Foop squealed. He quickly wiped his eyes and muttered, "Stupid reflexive tear ducts."
Anti-Cosmo wanted to help. He needed to. But, he was frozen. His wife was bleeding, his son was in terrible pain...and it was his fault. He'd hurt his family. He was no better than his mother.
As Anti-Wanda conjured herself a first-aid kit and nurse's outfit - and she and Foop began arguing over who was treating whom first - Kitty looked at him wide, nervous eyes. "Uh, Anti-Cosmo, what's with the...?"
"Don't look at me," Anti-Cosmo demanded, turning away and poofing himself into a white long-sleeve shirt. The last thing he needed right now was to explain why he was covered in old scars.
(Actually, while the scars were worth worrying about, Kitty had been referring to the glowing green web-like pattern that had appeared on his chest, but she was the only one who noticed it. She didn't sense it to be anything dangerous, so she shrugged it off as a by-product of non-corporeal magic.)
Anti-Wanda rolled her eyes and groaned, bringing them both back to the present. "For the love of Texas barbecue, Foop! I'm fine. Look, I'll prove it." She touched her wand to her cut and magicked the injury away. "There, see? All better. Boo-boo gone bye-bye. Now, let's fix you up." She waved her wand, but nothing happened.
"The weapon had an enchantment on it," Anti-Cosmo informed solemnly, still unable to look any of them in the eye. "You can't just poof it away. It'll have to heal on its own."
Anti-Wanda looked at Foop then back at her husband. "Did you say 'weapon?' And, 'enchantment?' In the same sentence?"
"Blood is dangerously close to my eye, over here!" Foop snapped, protecting his eye with his hand.
Silence followed as Anti-Wanda and Kitty worked together to patch the boy up, and Anti-Cosmo continued to silently berate himself for being a bad parent and husband. After Foop's injury was covered by a large bandage (and, of course, kissed by Anti-Wanda), Anti-Cosmo found his voice. "I'm sorry." He felt three gazes on him but couldn't bring himself to meet any of them. "I let my temper slip and frightened you all. And, harmed one of you."
"Honey, look at me." He hadn't realized that his wife had approached him until he felt her calloused hand on his cheek, forcing him to meet her gentle bubblegum gaze. "You didn't mean nothing. I fixed myself right-quick. So, you got a little, um…"
"Cuckoo bananas?" Kitty offered.
"Yeah, that. Don't beat yourself up, babycakes."
Anti-Cosmo lowered his head and closed his eyes. Letting out a depressed sigh, he grabbed his wife's wrist and lowered her hand off his cheek but didn't quite want to let go of her hand just yet. Didn't she understand that he had to beat himself up? He wasn't going to lie; he knew he was evil. He had no problems with lying, backstabbing, or flat-out using brute force if it got him what he wanted. But, his family deserved much, much better. And, look what had just happened. They'd finally seen him at his absolute worst. He had been ready to kill Anti-Bethany, his own mother, and his three favorite people in the world had seen it, seen the madness in his eyes, the fury in his magic-
"Why are you moping?" Foop asked sternly, making his father look at him in confusion. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. None of this would've happened, if I'd just heeded everyone's warnings and not gotten involved."
Anti-Cosmo shook his head. "Son, you shouldn't blame yourself-"
Foop crossed his arms. "Said the pot to the kettle."
Anti-Wanda put a finger to her chin. "Wait, the kitchenware can talk?"
Kitty coughed into her fist. "Uh, Anti-Wanda why don't we go take care of...that thing?"
"What thing?"
"Oh, you know…" Loud slurping-sounds came from the hallway. "Oh, yeah. I forgot all about that thing. I mean, that thing! That's the thing we need to take care of." Without waiting for a response, she yanked Anti-Wanda out of the room, giving the boys their privacy.
After a moment, Anti-Cosmo let out a breathy laugh. "I don't know whether to thank you for taking that blow for me or call you an idiot for doing so."
Foop smiled sheepishly. "Might I suggest both?"
Merciful Goddess, this kid. Anti-Cosmo wrapped his arms around his child and held him tightly, protectively. "My brave little twit." He noticed his son wiping his eyes again and held the boy closer. "Don't cry, dear boy. Daddy's got you."
"I'm not crying. Your chin is poking into my boo-boo! It hurts!"
"Oh!" He half-pushed his son away from him. "Sorry! Terribly sorry!"
Foop glared at him for a moment then softened. "I won't do it."
Anti-Cosmo blinked. "Won't do what?"
"That photo of baby you in the tub. I'm not gonna use it for blackmail."
Anti-Cosmo couldn't help it. He burst into laughter and soon both of them were howling like idiots. "Why-Why are we laughing?" Anti-Cosmo asked when they eventually calmed down.
Foop just grinned and shrugged. "Because, we're both morons?"
His father rolled his eyes at the answer then frowned. "In all seriousness, I truly am sorry you-"
"Stop. Stop feeling bad. We both did stupid things today, alright? Instead of feeling sorry for ourselves, I say we hunt down Nana and get our revenge. We will make her long for death!"
Anti-Cosmo laughed, feeling immensely better, and hugged his son once more, mindful of the boy's injury. "I love you, you little brat."
Suddenly, the girls ran by them, screaming their heads off. Anti-Wanda yelled, "The thing multiplied!"
Soon, all four of them found themselves being chased by a hoard of purple goo creatures.
Deep in the woods of Anti-Fairy World was tunnel, hidden by millennia of neglect. In the deepest part of that tunnel was a large green gemstone. It pulsed with a vibrant glow.
Then, a small crack appeared in its surface.
The End
I don't know what's chasing them, and I don't want to.
So, I've got this big special episode coming up, but there's some stuff that needs to happen first. I'm thinking two, maybe three episodes before the game changer I have planned. You'll know it's coming when a total weirdo shows up. You'll figure out who it is. So, for now, review!
