The rest of the "get-together" for the next long while, went smoothly. The gang accepted Chislett into the crowd no problem, and they seemed to tolerate, if not like, Goresky and Jacque, just fine. Sure, a few of them DID have some uncomfortable looks when the gay couple acted 'couply', but it was adjustable to get used to. Bullseye couldn't decide if this was a good or bad thing. It was good in the sense that they accepted his brothers, his family, which was what he wanted. But on the other hand, was this acceptance meaning that the three were now IN the gang? Their group was large enough, as it was, did they really NEED three more people? Bullseye kind of viewed the situation as say, one of his many 'dates', he might introduce them to the guys once, then they'd never see them again. He wasn't going for a selfish motive in that sense, it just felt somewhat 'odd' to him, his brothers being in his 'gang', after all these years. The thought was giving him a headache, eventually, and so he reserved decision for the moment being. Taking a break from the cards, Chislett questioned outloud, "-I hope this doesn't rude or anything, but you guys wouldn't have any food stashed here, would ya?" Jacque sighed, rolling his eyes, "-And so continues the saga of Chislett's bottomless pit of a gut." His friend simply pulled a face. Aaron got up from where he was, and gestured Chislett over. "-We might, have a look in the refrigeration device over here..." He showed the warthog over to a small portable fridge. He cranked it open, and looked about. "-Hmmm... we've got this... what the?" Aaron pulled out a container. "-Who the hell put a case of yogurt in here?" Bullseye lazily raised his arm. "-Me, thank you very much." I threw out the chocolate milk." The hedgehog shook his head. "-You know Bullseye, just becuz you have a frickin' allergy, doesn't mean we should ALL have to suffer with your nutritional crap, you freakoid." The warthog stretched, sneering, "-Well fine then, by all means stick it wherever you like, Air-Head, starting with your ass." His friend ignored him, and turned to Chislett. "-You can have it if you like, not sure if you wanna tho, who knows how long it's been in there, and there's no expiration date-" The warthog simply took it, peeled the top off, and took a 'whaff'ing smell of it. He seemed to be processing his input, and then declared, "-I'd say it's got a good ten hours left, it's still good." Aaron stared, with amazement. "-How do you-" "-What can I say, it's a gift," Chislett replied, modestly. Goresky added, "-Indeed, a talent that only took God knows how many countless instances of projectile vomiting to perfect." "-No pain, no gain, dear brother," his sibling told him. The hedgehog then realized something else. "-Damn, I don't think we have any-" "-No problem there, got it covered," Chislett assured him, and to their surprise, pulled a spoon out of his pocket. His younger brother stared incredulously at him. "-Chislett, why the hell do you have a spoon in your pocket?" Bullseye questioned. "-It's less hassle than carrying a gun," he replied. Aaron's face went a bit pale. "-You're comparing a spoon to a GUN?" "-In means of self-defense, yes," Chislett explained. "Starting carrying one around after this conversation I had with my friend Scott; we were discussing how pretty much almost object or substance on Mobius, can kill you, if given enough force or amount." There was an awkward silence, with the exception of seats or necks being craned around, to face Chislett, at this absurd subject. Seeing he had all attention, the warthog continued, "-So yeah, a spoon here, is a perfect example." Sure, it LOOKS harmless, but if used right, CAN be harmful." Since Aaron was the nearest, Chislett stood up next to him, and held out the spoon, in a ready stance. "-You slam this thing hard enough, it could sear right through a person's temple," he said, 'pretending' he was about to do so to Aaron, but stopping the swing just a few inches away from Aaron's face, who promptly flinched and went white. "-Cuz that part of the face is sensitive to blows... or... you could jab it into an ear, least then you got an opening already made for ya, and just sort of dig it around in the brains." Or, a classic ramming it down someone's throat and chokage works nice too." He then looked at the hedgehog, whom was now pale as a sheet and looked ready to faint. Chislett blinked, "-Dude, are you alright?" "-Let's just say you chose the wrong person to practice 'stabbing' maneuvers on... Aaron's a hemophobic," Bullseye told him, boredly. His brother looked embarrassed, and quickly lowered the spoon. "-Oh, geez!" Oh man, I'm sorry dude, my bad!" The hedgehog gave a meek nod, and timidly shrank back. "-If it makes you feel any better, Goresky here is also, I'm always freaking him out too," Chislett added. His older brother glared, irritably. "-Yeah, but at least I even it out by kicking the shit outta you, afterwards." You should let him have a free shot." "-Nyah, it's cool, I'm fine," Aaron said uneasily, sitting down in a chair. "No hard feelings." "-You sure?" the middle warthog asked him. "Cuz if you want, by all means!" I've been beat up tons of times, and not just by Goresky; my body's used to punishment!" "-I'm good," the hedgehog insisted. Chislett shrugged, "-Okie dokie." By the way... any other hemophobics in here I should be aware of?" Tyler reluctantly raised a hand. "-Me." "-Alright, gotcha," the warthog noted. Sitting back down with the yogurt and spoon, Chislett added, "-Course that whole defense thing, is only HALF the reason I keep this here, really." "-Dare I ask the other half?" Bullseye snorted. "-What can I say, you never know when you're gonna come across something edible and there's no cutlery available!" It's just handy, you know?" His brother stared. "-Now THAT I believe." As Chislett was about to stick the spoon in, Bullseye spoke once more, "-One more question, Chis." "-Yeah?" His brother gave a snewd grin. "-Shaken or stirred?" The middle warthog grinned back. "-Stirred, baby, very stirred," he answered, doing the same action with the spoon in the container. He took a first mouthful, and muttered, "-Mmm... peaches." His younger brother raised an eyebrow. "-That WAS your favourite flavour back then, wasn't it?" Chislett nodded. "-Damn straight." And you liked strawberry, right?" "-Yeah huh," Bullseye agreed. "And ah yeah... Goresky loved blueberry." Goresky smiled. "-Sure did." Man... good times, eh?" Just then Jacque gave a little squawk. "-Oh my gosh!" His boyfriend asked, "-What, what's wrong, hun?" "-It's a good thing I just looked at the time... it's twenty minutes to!" the lynx-caracal jumped up. "Oh, sorry you guys, I hate to sound rude by cutting the visit, but I've kinda got a precommitment to get to." A few of them made the sympathetic noise, that some people make when a visitor says they have to leave. Masevar said, "-Aww, that's too bad." We've really been enjoying your guys's company!" "-Yeah, it's been fun hanging with you three!" added Rockavar. "Nice change from the regular losers, I must say." A paper ball went flying in the air, and squarely into the back of the fox's head. He slowly blinked, and said, "-I so know that was you, Richard, you ass-wading dipshit." The said lynx and three other males standing next to him all pointed to one another, trying to place the blame elsewhere. Chislett shook his head, grinning, "-Man, what with the encouraging boos and paper balls chucked, and all the other junk in this trunk, I can imagine all the bloody fun you people get up to." "-Yeah, you sure catch on fast, dontcha, bitch?" Bullseye snorted, pat-whacking Chislett under the chin. Goresky blinked. "-I'm used to oddity, but even that occurred to me as abnormally odd." The deal?" The hedgehog Prince shrugged, "-Just typical Bullseye affection, for ya." "-That's definitely a trademark move of his," Rockavar added. "Beltin' ya under the chin, saying his sentence, ending with 'bitch'." And oh yeah, gotta love the throwing his forearm around your neck and going 'Way to be, son!' maneuver too-" The spoken warthog stared at the fox Prince. "-You pokin' fun at my lingo, Rocko?" "-Maybe I am, Bullsy!" his friend snorted, challengingly. Bullseye faced him, holding out his arms. "-You wanna go, Princey-boy?" "-Why the hell not, Hogg-man?" Rockavar jeered. The warthog grinned, sagely. "-That so... how you like this?" he asked, giving the fox a shove in the chest. The fox Prince stumbled back, but his confidence not shaken; he seemed more amused if anything. "-Just fine... what about you?" he quipped, shoving Bullseye right back. Goresky and Chislett watched the two goofing off, like brothers. They couldn't help but notice how Bullseye that REALLY was... even as a small child, when he was still with them, little undersized Bullseye had been pluck full of bravery and would pick fights with any member of his family who would joust back. He loved horsing around. Amidst the playfighting, Tyler laughed at them, "-And there you have it; bitch-fight number one thousand and twenty-two." Realizing that they were stalling, Jacque got 'ancy' and tugged Goresky's arm. "-Hun, I mean it, we really gotta get goin' now!" he whined, just loud enough for his boyfriend to hear. The warthog blushed, at his forgetful moment. "-Oh right!" Sorry sweetie." Okay, let's go... Chislett!" He poked his brother in the side, grabbing his attention. "-Looks like we really got to be going now," he said to everyone else. "But thanks for the whole get-together visit!" I certainly hope we can do this again soon; if you guys wouldn't mind of course!" There was a murmur of agreement, at the suggestion. "-Sure thing!" Charles said on their behalf. "So long as we get the info ahead of time." He side-jabbed Bullseye in the ribs, with his elbow, meaningfully. The warthog winced, but held a straight face, for most part. "-Indeed," he muttered. "I'll leave phone messages, post-its, fax, or hell, INVITATIONS if I have to!" How'd that suit you, Chuckie?" "-Just superbly," the hedgehog grinned, satisfied. Jacque, trying to avoid another stalling, quickly butt in, "-Well it was really great meeting you all, hope to see you all soon then!" "Seeya guys!" Goresky added. "-Later dudes!" Chislett chimed in. They all waved and bid goodbyes as the trio went on their way out.

The three hustled to the Warthoggs' truck, where Jacque burst in first, to get to the driver's seat, as he didn't want Chislett's hectic driving style, nor did he want to endure Goresky's slower than should be speed, when he was already pressed for time. Neither Warthogg complained. They were silent for the first few seconds of driving. Naturally, however, Chislett broke the silence. "-Well that was fun, eh?" "-Yeah, I think that went well!" Goresky said, brightly. "Nice to see Bullseye's gotten along with some good people for friends, and they don't hate us... heh." What about you, Jacq, what'd you think?" "-Just fine, it was great," the lynx-caracal, muttered, distractedly. His boyfriend's face fell. "-Really..." he pressed. "Then how come you won't look at me?" "-I'm focusing on the road, what?!" Jacque blurted, in irritation. Chislett gave a light whistle, and sighed at the two, "-Here we go... 'drama-queen moment', number five-hundred and thirty-three." Goresky crossed his arms. "-Tell me what's wrong, Jacque." His mate gave a protesting scoff. "-What?!?" There's nothing wrong, I'm fine, I just don't wanna be late, is there a problem with that??" The warthog replied coolly, "-You tell me." His boyfriend, never having been much for avoiding a tormenting thought or lying, finally cracked. "-Oh fine, yes, there IS something wrong!" Are you happy?" "-I'll feel better once you tell me exactly what it is!" Goresky insisted. Jacque bit his lip. "-Well... see I just... I mean... I really-" "-Jaaacque!" his boyfriend spoke, warningly, pressing him to quit stalling. The lynx-caracal gave him a sort of 'hurt-bunny-look' expression, and confessed meekly, "...I don't think Bullseye liked me." NOW the warthog understood his anxiety. "-Oh, Jacque-" he started to say, but was cut off by his brother. "-'Course he didn't!" He hates everyone!" Chislett supplied, cheerfully. His elder brother elbowed him hard. "CHISLETT!" "-Oh come on Goresk, you KNOW Bullseye's an irrepressible a-hole, it's in his nature!" the younger Warthogg snorted. "Might I add, for being a triplet, bro, you sure don't know your sibs very well!" Jacque stared at them, bewilderedly. "-Well now, wait a sec... I never said 'hate' was a factor, I mean, that's a rather harsh word for a first meeting, isn't it??" he gulped. "All I really meant was that I just got this weird vibe that he didn't... care for my being there." And not to mention he seemed to be... well... AVOIDING me the whole time!" Coincidence?" I think not!" He gave a miserable pouting look. Hating this sight, Goresky tried to reassure him. "-Oh, come on hun... don't worry about it!" Bullseye's just... eh, not the easiest person to warm up to at first," the warthog tried to explain. "He's... a little rough around the edges, you know?" I mean, you can't really blame him!" But just keep trying, and eventually he'll come around, even if he's got a weird way of showing it... okay sweetie?" He gave Jacque's shoulder a gentle squeeze, trying to soften him up. The lynx-caracal gave a whimsical little sigh, musing over this. Not being able to stay upset, he finally gave a tiny smile, and responded, "-Oh fine... you've convinced me, Goresk-hun... for NOW, anyways." His boyfriend grinned, "THAT's better." He put his arm around Jacque's shoulders. "Who's your daddy?" The feline practically purred back, "-Who's my bitch?" They both nuzzle-smooched, and Chislett snickered, "-You know guys, I can always take over the wheel, if you wanna use the backseat... plenty of room and all." The couple stopped what they were doing, to stare at him, exasperated, and say, "-CHISLETT!" "-WHAT?!" I'm just sayin'!" the warthog yelped, holding up his hands in defense. Goresky and Jacque sighed in unison for the umpteenth time that day. "-Straight people," they both muttered, shaking their heads.

"-So what did you think of Jacque?" Bullseye looked over, at the question, taken by surprise. "-Huh?" Buckthorne stared at him, expectantly, waiting for him to answer. They were both walking down the road, heading for home, after the gang had to split for the day. Trying to compose himself to respond, the warthog swallowed hard. "-Jacque?" Oh... him... yeah... err... well he... uhhh... wasn't that... ummm-" He obviously couldn't think of one decent thing to say. The wolf blinked slowly, knowing what he was thinking. "-You hate him already don't you?" Seeing this as an opportunity to 'fess what he REALLY thought, Bullseye immediately blurted out in response, "-Like a blood-sucking little LEECH!" Buckthorne didn't seem shocked or anything. All he said was, "-Feel better now?" "-Extremely," the warthog grunted, with some satisfaction at having gotten it off his chest. His friend hoped that was it, but knowing Bullseye, he wasn't surprised when he added, "-But not as much as I could still be." The wolf rolled his eyes. Might as well continue the conversation; he'd hear about it one way or another. "-And how would you suggest you put amends to solve that?" He saw a flicker of morbid delight rise in his friend's face. "-Know what I'd really like to do-" he started, "-is take like a... metal baseball bat... yeah... and like, sneak up behind him, and pretty much WHACK him in the back of the skull as hard as I can!" He was making the whole "whacking" gesture as he spoke, much to Buckthorne's dull amusement. "So then he'll be out cold and stuff." Then what I wanna do... is take one of those old execution stands... the one with the stand where you lean your head into and a hugeass blade comes down?" "-Guillotine," Buckthorne supplied, calmly. "-Yeah, that!" Thats it!" Bullseye grinned, excitedly. "So yeah, with that thing I'd disembody his head from his body." But I wouldn't stop there... no, I'd take his head and place it back into the guillotine, and pretty much bring the blade a couple more times, each time slicing each half into another half, until it's just all a mashy explosion of carnage." "...Hmmm," muttered the wolf, wondering if he looked in the slightest interested at hearing all this. Yet another typical Bullseye 'murderous tendencies' tale-idea. Bullseye obviously didn't seem to care if he did or not, so long as he was there and awake to listen to him rant on. "-But that's only half!" the warthog exclaimed. "There's still the body left!" Oh yes!" Buckthorne expected him to do a stereotypical "evil-guy" thing any minute now, like rubbing his hands and saying "Excellent!", or throwing back his head and giving an insane deep-throated evil-laugh of sorts. Nothing would shock him at this point. But Bullseye simply went on with his evil murderous scheme idea for the unsuspecting Jacque. "-First off, I'd take that sack of shit and position it nicely on a good driveway... take the hummer, put my foot on the gas, throw it in reverse and in short, drive over the carcass a couple times." Then I'd take that flattened massacre, stick it on a wire string, and take one of those rug beater rods, and whoop the living shit out of it for a good while." Again, gestures of the whole "whooping" motive were shown. "-And then for whatever's left of that roadkill, I'd put through a meat grinder and slicer, and make it cafeteria sandwich meat for grade-school children," the warthog finished, with a flourish. There was a long pause, as Buckthorne thought of his answer, carefully. He finally asked, "...You been thinking about this whole thing, long?" The warthog grinned, menacingly. "-Oh believe me, my friend... this is just 'brainstorming'." 'Brainstorming'? Oh boy, thought Buckthorne. What a piece of work, indeed. He mused outloud, "-Gee... remind me to never date one of your brothers."