It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was out. The trees were green. The grass was green. The plants were green. Point is- there was a lot of green.
Spring sure was kickin' in, huh.
Regardless! The town's park was looking pretty today! The flowers were bloomed and the ecosystem looked healthy. Two of the workers, nearby the park fountain, were certainly enjoying it. And one was about to complete a great feat.
Sounds of cheering emanated from a blue-cased phone within a pale hand. Wrapped and tied around the surrounding trees were double-lines of banner paper set up as a crude mockery of a wrestling ring. Standing atop the unactivated park fountain, his infamous trampoline propped up below him, was none other than our very strong, very macho man unlike any other this world has seen before.
"All right, Beef Burrito..." He starts, glaring down at his opponent. His next words were accentuated by every point of his finger. "...I'm gonna give you one more chance to take back what you said about my mom!"
Down on the ground, his opponent, still as ever, did not respond. Which was...to be expected of a doll really.
Despite this, Rigby took the ensuing silence as a non-answer- the wrong answer. He growls. "I'll kill you!"
Slapping his elbow twice, he leaps off the fountain, aiming to give his unhonorable adversary the beatdown of a lifetime. Landing on the large trampoline doubling as his strange version of a bed, he bounces off and lands a very (un)painful elbow drop unto Beef Burrito's squishy body.
Oh, the agony! Surely, so surely the poor man would be in pain!
This was not enough for Rigby, however. He drives his elbow into the dummy's body several times, swerving him around leftwards on the ground. In the process, he kicks up dirt and scuffs his knees. Paying little attention to this, he backs off, only to throw himself backwards onto the man. He rolls over Beef Burrito's (very in pain) body and stands straight before performing yet another elbow slam.
He stands once more, the crook of his right arm secured around the other contender's neck. He's got this in the bag. Yeah, he'll show him!
But then...SMACK! His opponent has fought back! Beef Burrito has delivered a (totally real, very powerful) slap to Rigby's face.
Rigby grunts just as he receives another slap. He groans, very much in pain. This is it, bros. Everything he's trained for up to this very moment has been for naught. Beef Burrito might just best him yet again!
But, like a saving grace, comes in his tall best friend of decades—Mordecai. He sits on a nearby stump behind the paper, phone dropped to the ground.
"Tag up! Tag up!" He shouts, eyes wide and beckoning his friend's hand. The sun shines so brightly on his cerulean hair that the shorter has to squint, but nonetheless complies.
Having had his fill, Rigby stumbles over to him, dropping the macho doll in defeat. The two share a high-five, in which Mordecai immediately makes to leap over the strip and into the ring.
The shorter of the two guzzles down a can of soda as the taller drags beef burrito by him. Leaning the guy up on the stump—cause it's not like he can do it himself—Mordecai leaps onto the fountain previously inhabited by his partner-in-crime.
Rigby suddenly turns towards their enemy, eyebrows furrowed. "What?" He was really asking for a beat down now. "Oh, you want us to put the hurt on you?"
On cue, Mordecai grabs his, admittedly, very light friend under his arms as the mentioned male curls into a ball, arms tucked under knees. Rigby continues, "I think he wants me to put the hurt on him!"
"I think he wants you to put the hurt on him!"
"You think he wants me to put the hurt on him?"
"Yes, I do!"
"Aaah!"
"AAAH!"
With a mighty toss, Rigby hits the trampoline once more, ready to hit his target.
Except, when they fired; they missed.
Like, really missed.
Rigby instead hits the nearby park cart and falls headfirst into the trashcan nearby it. Multiple empty soda cans and old food bits are kicked up and fall onto the dirt path, and parts chip off the cart. Soon enough, he tips over in the trashcan with a groan.
But despite all this, he's no loser.
He stands up and begins walking back to the launching site, brushing the trash off. "Aw, yeah!" He grins. "Did you see how awesome it was when I hit the trampoline?"
Mordecai laughs, brushing his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, I did! But it wasn't as awesome as when you punched the front of the cart off."
They both share a hearty laugh before pausing.
Oh shit. The cart.
Their heads snap towards the area of impact. And, as if on cue, the entire front bumper falls to the ground in a plume of dust.
"Oh no, dude! Holy crap, we're so screwed!" Mordecai shouts, horrified at the damage.
"Whoa, dude! Cool it!" Rigby glances around. "We don't wanna attract any unnecessary attention!"
Mordecai doesn't listen to him, sitting on the fountain's edge and dropping his head into his hands. "Ugh, I knew we should've stuck to cleaning out the fountain. But no--'let's wrestle this stupid doll, it'll be fun'."
"Can you really deny how fun it was?"
The pale man doubles back, shrugging. "Well, no, but now the cart's damaged. Benson's gonna kill us. We're 23 years old and we work here, dude; we shouldn't be damaging park property--we're gonna get fired for this!"
Rigby scoffs, catching wind of his voice pitching higher (a trait attached to upcoming panics). "You mean you're gonna get fired for this."
"What?!"
"You're the one who threw me too hard, ya' hole."
"Don't call me a hole! You're the hole--you're the one who wanted to slack off and wrestle!"
"And who agreed with me?"
If Mordecai had hackles, they would be raised by now. His fingers twitch as if he was holding himself back from strangling Rigby. He probably was.
And as if sensing this, Rigby holds up his hands in a placating manner. "Okay, okay...fine, let's not blame anyone. I don't need to die today, man. How in the heck are we gonna fix this anyways?"
"Dunno, man," Mordecai replies, walking over to inspect the damage. "We can't fix it, and we definitely can't pay for it 'cause it'll be expensive..."
He pauses, crouching and lifting up the fallen bumper piece. "...I would say we ask Benson for raises so we can afford a repair but we can probably do it by—"
"Wait right there!" Rigby interrupts with a grin. "I know exactly what you're gonna say: Hamboning."
The taller's eyes widen as he stands up, hands on his hips. "...What?"
"Yeah, dude! Hamboning! We just go up to Benson and we'll be all like, 'we both want raises'". He then taps himself at random, approaching Mordecai who, for lack of better word, looks creeped. He attempts to tap his friend too, but he backs up before he can.
"No, man! Stop it! We just need to ask‐"
"No, no, NO!" Rigby shouts, eyebrows furrowed. "That's not gonna work! What are you, 65? 'Excuse me, sir, can I have a raise?" C'mon! I'm telling you dude. HAMBONING~!"
Mordecai crosses his arms, exasperated. "No."
"Hamboning will save your LIFE someday. It'll be all like, 'What? You're trying to mug me?'" He begins to 'hambone' again.
Mordecai groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, no. We're not doing that, okay? Okay?!"
"Fine."
They sit in silence for a bit. They were short on options here--their boss was constantly pissed off at them so asking directly wouldn't work. There wasn't extra work to do (that they hadn't failed at doing already). And whatever the hell Rigby was suggesting would just make any plan an even bigger failure.
Then, Rigby gasps, snapping his fingers. "I know exactly what we can do!"
...Hopefully whatever he came up was better than admitting to Benson through Hamboning.
Revised this! I decided to take an alternate approach to this and make it a twist of fanfiction, but with the original footprints. It's a bit boring now, I know, but it'll get better later. Let me know what you think! Reviews appreciated :)