Funny–ha-ha, eh, Ken?
So, here we have Ken and Davis, joking around and acting like the friends they were before Ken pinged off a wall. Ken mentions something out of jest, and Davis considers it.
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There was a metal baseball bat in the closet. His father bought it for him, and it was black and red–shiny, too. Ken wouldn't seem alarmed if Davis got up and walked to the closet, fetching something out of his own space. Of course, the bat would probably fall out, along with the other items crammed inside.
Maybe suspicions would rise once Davis began to bash Ken with said bat. Breaking bones that would not snap under normal situations. Decorating his bare floor with fragments of Ken's skull and blood, leaving a nice mess for his mother to clean up. He wasn't aiming for manslaughter, nor was he aiming for years in prison or an institute. He was trying to help.
His only reasoning would be to say that Ken informed him that it would be okay–that Ken asked him to do that whenever that particular thought came to mind. Davis would only be a good friend for whipping Ken across the face with a metal bat whenever the idea of death came up. Ken had said to him that the only way to set aside the thought would be to hit his head against the wall or with his book. Surely, a baseball bat–a metal bat–would cure him of the thoughts.
Ken watched as a smile stretched across Davis's face, stopping at his ears. "I shouldn't have mentioned it, I'm sorry," Ken mumbled, picking up his pencil and continuing to copy Davis's notes. For once, the Tamachi born genius was relying on Davis's academic notes to catch up with classes. Squinting down at some of the words, Ken leaned forward and tried to make sense of the chicken scratch. "Your notes are going to kill me," he said, creativity allowing him to continue.
Suddenly, the goggle head stood up and excused himself, heading for the closet. Ken looked up as he could hear many things fall out of the closet as Davis pulled the door open. "Davis?" his voice called, "are you okay?"
"Just–gah!–fine, hold on!" Ken waited, and after a few moments of silence, something large and made of tin fell and struck Davis in the nose. Laws of physics were defied as he cursed, threw things around. Things bounced back and landed on his feet, only managing to frustrate him further.
"Do you need help?"
"No. I'm fine. I think."
"I was only kidding, you know–your notes are not going to kill me. Injure me, maybe, but to go as far as–" Davis reentered with the bat "– saying that it would mortally kill me was a bit drastic." His eyes told him that if he kept going, Davis's room will be redecorated with Ken. "Please put the bat down."
"I'm just going to keep it here–just in case."
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Ha ha--get it? No, not really that funny, but fun to write. This really did not happen to me, but "Ken-chan" did tell me to beat 'em with a bat! Inspiration comes from odd places, now, doesn't it?