They stare down at the toilet, the "porcelain throne" as dad once called it, whatever that meant, and they think.

It had got clogged earlier today, and dad spent most of the morning trying to unclog it. From what they could hear, it was really hard and really messy and really gross and stuff. It even still smells kinda bad in here. But looking at the plunger, and now looking at the toilet, and imagining a clog, they're getting an idea.

If the toilet had got clogged, that meant something had got stuck. Like how a piece of strawberry in their strawberry lemonade from the festival sometimes got stuck in their straw. Blowing usually fixed that, but in this case, dad had pulled. With a plunger.

They think.

That's what it looked like, at least, before mom shooed them and Azzy away.

But they stare down at the hole at the bottom of the toilet bowl and they think.

If the strawberry gets stuck sucking it, fixing it meant you had to blow. If something got stuck in the toilet when it tried to suck it down, that meant you had to suck it, but in the opposite direction. But isn't sucking just… blowing in the opposite direction?

They look down at the bath bomb in in their hand. They think about how it'd fuzz and bubble and do all that in the water. And how moving it around made it do it even more, and if you just left it alone, it'd kinda stop.

So… so their thought is…

If this goes down in the pipe, it'll probably stop at some point. And when the toilet gets clogged again, it'll probably hit it. And that'll make it move. And fuzz and bubble and do all that. And that'd be kinda like blowing. Towards this end.

Which'll get whatever got stuck unstuck. Because it'd be like sucking it from this end too.

They set it gently inside the toilet, watch it start bubbling slightly, and then flush the toilet.

They wait. They watch.

And then they flush the toilet again.

And again.

And again.

And then…

"MOOOOOOOOOOM!"

On Monday, Azzy tells Dess and Noelle about it on their way to school, and all three of them laugh and laugh as they blush and shirk their head down.

"Y-You are so dumb, Kris!" Dess wheezes, and they have the intense urge to kick her in the shins. They don't, though, because that'd be mean.

So, instead, they bolt on ahead, hating how hot their ears and face feel.

Noelle finds them where they've stuck himself behind a bush in the playground. It's too small for Dess or Azzy to crawl under, but it's big enough for Noelle. Even though she's taller than them. Which is unfair.

They sniffle and she puts a hand on their shoulder, and when they glance over, they can see she's looking at them sadly. So they sniff again and looks away, curling in on themself tighter.

"Sorry for laughing," she says quietly, and then falls silent. After a moment, they just shrug.

"'s okay," they mumble, picking at their jeans. And then lean into her a bit so she knows they mean it.

She leans back to let them know that she knows.

They spend a little while like that, and they slowly start to feel better. It is kinda funny in hindsight. Even with how mad mom got at him. And Noelle's weird gingerbread scent is pretty calming.

They still kinda wish they had kicked Dess in the shins, though.

"Why'd you do it?" Noelle eventually asks, and they don't really hesitate to tell her. It's kinda hard to explain, given they don't really remember much of it given the panic that had occurred right after, but by the end of it she's nodding and humming thoughtfully. "That kind of makes sense." A pause, and she giggles a bit. "You probably should have asked your mom first, though!"

They giggle too. "P-Probably!"

And then the bell rings, and Noelle perks up, and then she hastily crawls out from behind the bush. "Come on, Kris!" she exclaims, holding a hand out towards them, an antsy expression on her face. "We're going to be late!" Ever punctual, they suppose.

They take her hand and let her lead them in a sprint towards the school. They feel a bit jealous at how her longer legs carry her farther and faster than him, but then they have a thought.

The school toilets probably have a lot more people using them. Which means they probably needed to be changed or something to get clogged less.

If that's the case, then the pipes are probably bigger.

Probably.

They have a thought.


Their trap… is set. Set expertly, if they say so themself. And they do.

Because it is.

Kinda. The issue they've run into is that they're maybe a year or two too late for this. They could barely fit under her bed, and they're not entirely sure they can get out again. And there's the possibility they'll sneeze from all the dust and the kind of overwhelming scent of gingerbread, which would ruin everything.

But details.

It's perfect.

They stifle their giggles as her bedroom door opens, and they stay absolutely still except for turning their head to see…

Yes.

There.

Her little hoof feet.

Perfect.

They see her stall for a moment, no doubt looking at the line of pillows conspicuously laid out next to her bed that were definitely not there when she went to the bathroom. It takes a few seconds for her to slowly start making her way forward. They bite their tongue to stop from laughing.

Step. Step. Step.

They adjust their arms slightly. They need to do this quick. They'll only have a second or two.

Step.

Step.

Step.

They stare at her little black hooves and wait. After a moment, they see her bend down and grab the first pillow. There's a small pause before they hear it hit the bed above them.

Another pause.

Step.

Turn.

The moment they see the back of her ankles, they grab them and yell out "BOO!" before she can lean down for the next pillow.

They hear her squeak for a millisecond, and then they feel her muscles go taut under the silky fur of her ankles. At which point they promptly pull them back so she pitches forward, falling face first onto the mound of fluffy, soft pillows, rigid as a board.

Mission success, executed perfectly, they're the best.

They cackle loudly and goes to work extricating themself. Which is hard, and they encounter the issue of the edge of the bedframe catching on their ear quite painfully.

As they ponder their predicament, their laughing fading slightly, they see Noelle's body go lax again.

Immediately she sits up and spins around, looking around wildly. When her eyes land on them, slightly teary- and wide-eyed.

"K-KRIS?!" she exclaims, staring at them in disbelief. Their cackles renew, and they nod as best they can with his head wedged sideways.

Her mouth works soundlessly, her hands flailing wildly.

"S-Surprise!" they say, breathless in between their giggles. They see a smile twitch at her mouth as well.

"What are you doing under there?" she asks, creeping forward and bending down so she can look them in the eye.

"S-Scaring you," they say, giggling as she pouts cutely. "Did it work?"

In response, she reaches forward and smacks them in the face. "Dummy!" she says, standing up with a huff. They can see the good humor in the bend of her shoulders, though.

"Y-You love it," they say as they make another try to extricate themself again. Which fails again.

She listens to them struggle, back still resolutely turned. And it takes all of a few seconds for her will to crumble to curiosity, and she turns around to watch them. "Are you stuck?" she asks, and they nod.

"Y-Yeah," they say, trying to push up her bed with their back. When that doesn't work, they try to lift the lip with their arms. When that doesn't work, they look to her pleadingly, "Mind lifting this for me? Just a bit?"

She stares at them, and the seconds tick by, and oh no.

They know that look in her eyes.

With little more than a huff, she turns around, quickly tosses her pillows back up onto the bed, and then hops into it with a running jump herself. They feel the bottom of the bedframe press down on them slightly. Not enough to be painful, but… just enough to pin them. Just slightly.

"Uh…" they say, reaching up to knock on it, hoping she can feel the vibrations through her mattress. "Noelle?"

"Goodnight, Kris~!" replies Noelle in a singsong voice, and they see her flick off her lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

"Uh…" they say again, blinking at the sudden gloom. "I don't think this is what your dad meant when he said I could sleep over, Noelle."

In fact, they know that wasn't what he meant because he'd been very strict about them having to sleep in the guest room furthest from Noelle's room. Why, they don't know, but Uncle Rudy can be almost as scary as his mom when he's serious. And he was serious.

"Goodnight~!" says Noelle again, and then they can hear her almost pointedly turn over.

Oh

no.

She really means to leave them under here all night. All night. With only her stupid dust bunnies and her stupid gingerbread scent for company. And, okay, so maybe they shouldn't have scared her, but they both know she loves it, so it's kind of unfair for her to trap them here all-

They fall asleep surprisingly easily.

Her dad is not happy in the morning, even though Aunt Carol finds it pretty funny. They have to listen to a lecture about "personal boundaries" and "privacy" and "safety" and how they're "getting to that age" and whatever. All while Noelle smirks at them smugly over her bowl of cereal, and they think that they should have acted on their first impulse to grab her feet again in the morning. She had forgotten they were under there, given how she froze slightly when they called out to her. They could have totally scared her again. But no. She just had to take the pillows back so there wasn't anything for her to fall on.

Typical.

When Uncle Rudy and Aunt Carol send them off after breakfast, most everything forgiven, they're already thinking about how to get her back.

Maybe her closet?


"Is that ketchup, my child?" mom asks, and they only barely hold in their groan. They've been laying here for fifteen minutes with the overwhelming scent of ketchup filling their nose; they're not giving up now. "Kris?" mom calls out again, but they stay resolutely still. "Kris." And they feel just a trickle of panic. That isn't the tone of a mother who's slowly realizing her child may not actually be playing dead. That's the tone of a mother who's getting tired of her child playing dead.

With a sigh, they sit up.

"How'd you know it wasn't blood?" they ask her petulantly, and she laughs softly as she walks by them.

"A mother's instincts, my child," she says, which is a total non-answer. "Now, clean that up and come help me with the groceries."

She pats her head as she walks back by him, and they can't help but feel it was in a decidedly condescending manner.

But with another sigh, they get up and do as they're told.

That night, they realize that in hindsight, mom was too smart to fall for that. She has future sight and telepathy and mindreading, at least as far as Azzy and them can tell. There was no way they were going to trick her.

Then again…

"Kris?!" dad exclaims, and then a beat passes, and he asks, "Is that ketchup?"

This time they give it up immediately. "How'd you know?!" they ask, going to fold their arms before remembering they're covered in ketchup. Dad looks down at them and laughs, his great belly shaking with it.

"A father's instincts, son," they say, and they stick their tongue out at him.

"Mom already said that line!" they reply, which only makes their dad laugh more. Typical.

Maybe…

"Is there even any ketchup left in the fridge?" Azzy asks, pointedly stepping over them on his way to the medicine cabinet.

"UGH!" they exclaim, immediately standing up and stomping away, Azzy's giggles pelting them from behind mockingly.

This was a great idea! They don't get how it isn't working. They expected it to at least work on Azzy, but nooooooooo! He couldn't even pretend to be scared!

Is there anyone it would actually work on? If mom wasn't tricked, then Aunt Carol won't be either. If dad wasn't tricked, then Uncle Rudy definitely wouldn't be. And if Azzy wasn't tricked, then Dess-

oh.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Noelle screams before she's abruptly cut off, and they hear the thump as she hits the soft grass.

They can feel tears in their eyes as they haul themself up laughing. Sweet victory! Sweet validation! Sweet… other things that they can't think of because they're so happy it finally worked!

They knew it would! They just knew it! It was too good not to… work…

Their feeling of euphoria almost instantly fades as Noelle hauls herself up, her eyes shining with tears. When she turns around and sprints down the street without a word, They realizes that they weren't the usual, reflexive teary eyes from her thanatosis reflex. They were…

Crap.

They don't think they've ever washed their hands (and arms) as quickly as they do right then. Once they have, they bolt off down the street in the same direction Noelle went, towards her house.

"Open sesame!" they say urgently to the gate. The seconds tick by, and the gate doesn't open. They wave their arms a bit angrily, saying "OPEN SESAME!" again, but louder and more urgently this time. Once again, the gate doesn't open, and they walk up to it and kicks it. "OPEN SESAME! PLEASE?!" And once again… "I'LL JUST CLIMB YOU IF YOU DON'T OPEN!"

That seems to finally do the trick, and the gate swings open near-silently. They're already through before they can be blinded by the glare that little black box on the gate gives off when the light hits it right.

Uncle Rudy is waiting for them on the doorstep, looking distinctly stern and unimpressed. How they always knows they're coming, they have no idea. It seems all parents have future sight, they suppose.

"I need to talk to Noelle!" they say, panting slightly as they come to a stop in front of him.

"Why?" asks Uncle Rudy, tone carefully blank, and Kris scowls at him. They both know that he knows perfectly well why they have to talk to Noelle.

But the scowl is ineffective at best. If anything, it seems to make Uncle Rudy angrier.

They duck their head as the disappointed glare becomes too much.

"I-I scared her, and I think it was worse than usual, so…" They shrug. "I wanna apologize."

They don't lift their eyes again as the seconds tick by. Part of them is already contemplating ways to see Noelle if Uncle Rudy says no. They could just go back up the driveway, past the bushes, and then slip into them, circle around the house, and climb the trellis thing leading up to-

"Alright," says Uncle Rudy, stepping to the side, looking distinctly less angry. "She's up in her room. And make sure to wipe your feet, you little gremlin." He glances down pointedly at their feet, which Kris only just now realizes are bare.

Oops.

They at him a bit sheepishly at him, making a few perfunctory swipes with their feet on the welcome mat before hurrying inside the house.

Once they're actually outside Noelle's bright red door, however, they stop. They're… not really sure how to proceed.

They suppose knocking is a good start.

They suppose it maybe wasn't when there's no response from inside.

"Noelle?" they call out, knocking again. "It's, um… Kris. Can I come in?" Silence is their only answer. Ringing, deafening silence. They knock again. "I-I, uh… I wanted to apologize."

Just as they decide to just say their apology to the door, it opens slightly. Just a crack. Just enough so that they can see one of Noelle's green, teary, bloodshot eyes.

They feel their stomach drop to somewhere roughly near the center of the Earth.

"I-I'm sorry," they say immediately, refusing the urge to bow their head. They do knot his hands in theiir t-shirt, however. "I shouldn't have pranked you like that. I-It was mean." And then they pause, thinking. After a second, they add, "I-I won't do it again." They're careful not to phrase it like a question. Because it isn't. They won' won't do it again. "I'm sorry," they say again, when Noelle doesn't reply.

They think they see the gears in her head turning. Maybe. It might just be more tears. That's a definite possibility.

Eventually she does open the door, though, sniffing, and they feel their stomach somehow drop lower at the tear tracks matted in her fur.

"I-I thought you were h-hurt," she says, hiccupping slightly, and they feel their stomach yet again drop even lower as more tears work their way free of her eyes.

"I know," they say, even though they kind of didn't. In hindsight, they suppose that that was the whole point of the prank, but… they hadn't really expected her to… for it to… "I-I'm sorry."

She looks at them, silent save for sniffles. "P-Pinky promise you won't do it again," she says, raising her pinky expectantly. They don't hesitate to shake it with their own.

"I promise," they say.

She promptly enfolds them in a hug.

"Y-You're dumb!" she sobs against their shoulder, and they definitely do not feel tears pricking at their own eyes as they hug her tightly back.

"Y-Yeah," they say, definitely not sobbing too.

When she's done crying and they're done not crying, she invites them in to play with her dollies. They accept, even though they kind of wish that they'd brought their own.

As they play, a small seed of guilt still sits in their stomach, though. They should probably do something for her. Something nice.

Something like…

Their eyes land on her head, bereft of antlers despite her being a year older than Dess was when she got hers. They catche her feeling her head sometimes, looking disappointed.

And they remember those fake horns mom, dad, and Azzy had got them when they complained about not having their own horns.

Maybe with a bit of cardboard and some sticks, they could make them into antlers.

And then…

Yes.


They do not like youth group.

At all.

It's trash. Garbage. Boring, trashy garbage. They'd much rather be doing anything else. Even chores. Because then they'd be spending their time doing something productive. The fact it's on a Sunday is worse, because that's one of Aunt Carol's two days off. If they didn't have youth group, they'd probably get to have extra piano lessons with her. Which'd be great.

But they can't.

Because youth group.

They do not like youth group.

But mom and dad like that they go, and they know that Azzy likes it too. It's also a chance to hang out with Dess and Noelle, and Father Alvin is nice. So they suppose they can tolerate it.

"Today, we'll be making clay dolls of the Angel."

They do not like youth group.

It's only respect for Father Alvin that keeps them from groaning and trying to see how many headbutts to the table it would take to knock themself out. They hate art projects. They hate, hate, hate them. Because it's always about artistic expression and personality and imagination, but then they try to do those things and it's stop that and that's too messy and is that meant to be blood.

Typical.

They half-listen as Father Alvin explains that they'll have the rest of the day to make it and they'll have clay and paint and this is the template and he'll take them into Mountain Valley to have them fired over the weekend and blah, blah blah. The fact there's a template is at least slightly reassuring. They like it when there's clear rules and stuff to follow. Of course, they like it better when there aren't any, but they prefer clear rules and stuff instead of pretend-freedom and hidden rules.

Also of course, as per usual, Azzy says, "We should make the wings bigger! Like the Angel mom puts on top of the Christmas tree!"

They sigh quietly. Of course. When they're the one happy to follow the rules, it's Azzy who wants to break them. It's even more annoying because Azzy knows which rules to break that people won't care about and which ones people will, so you should follow those ones, but these ones? Nah, it's fine.

They make the wings big. Like really, really big. So big that the thick clay even droops.

All because Azzy wanted to break the rules. And totally not because they maybe egged Azzy on. Not at all. Nope.

They're the one who adds a toothy smiley face, though.

Because the blank face on the template is kinda weird. And if it was meant to be weird, then it'd be cool, but it's the Angel, so it isn't. They know saying the Angel is weird is definitely frowned upon. It's just actual don't-mention-it weird.

"What… happened?" Noelle asks, holding Dess and hers picture-perfect angel doll. Dess herself is laughing and teasing Azzy over how their doll's wings are about five times the size of their body.

"Azzy wanted bigger wings," they reply, not hesitating to throw their brother under the bus. There's a pause, and then they shrug. "And I thought that the blank face was kinda creepy."

"Oh," says Noelle simply, looking between them and the doll. And then she beams a smile at them. "I think it looks pretty cool!"

"Thanks!" they reply, stepping forward to peer closer at her doll. "It's cool how close you got it to the template. How'd you do it?"

"She's boring," says Dess without looking over, and Azzy and her both hit her in the shoulder. Noelle giggles, even as Dess playfully hauls Azzy up their inch difference in height by his collar.

"I don't know," she replies with a shrug, holding up her doll for inspection herself. "I just… do it."

They nod. Makes sense. There's a lot of things they just do too.

They paint theirs together. Dess and Noelle paint the halo gold and the body white, like in the template, while Azzy and them paint theirs rainbow. It works out pretty well.

Their doll's wings break off as it's being fired. Azzy is kind of heartbroken so they're the one that has to reassure Father Alvin that it's fine. He helps them superglue them back on, though, which is really nice of him. And he gives them some of that sick fruit juice, which is even nicer. Just a tiny little bit, though, like usual. Why, they don't know.

Mom and dad really love it, even though they feel like it might just be because they made it. Uncle Rudy teases them about it, but that's fine. Azzy seems pretty happy with it.

Mom puts it on her dresser. And when the door is open and they walk by, they look at it.

And they have an idea.

The rainbow feathers are pretty cool. But it's just paint on clay. There's no depth to them. Same with the robe and the face and the halo.

They slip away at the grocery store and head for the art section. They find rainbow feathers, rainbow glitter, and cloth in a bunch of different colors. A bunch of googly eyes, too, and even fake sticker teeth.

They have an idea.


"Open sesame!" they shout, throwing their hands out grandly.

They wait the expected few seconds for the gate to open. What is not expected is that it does not.

They frown, letting their arms fall as they stare at it. "Open sesame!" they shout again, waving their arms wildly.

It remains closed.

What the heck? Open sesame always works, like Uncle Rudy said. Except now. For some reason. Maybe it's the lights they have strung across it? But no, they were over here the other week and the gate opened fine. Maybe it's because they didn't call ahead? But that's dumb. Gates can't use phones. How would it even know they called ahead?

They contemplate it silently, their breath misting in the chill winter air. They really want to see Noelle and give her her gift. They can't wait until Christmas. And they also have another gift for Christmas, so it's fine for them to give her this one now. It's why they didn't call ahead. They want to surprise her.

They stare up at the gate, and then looks down at the headband in his hand. His fingers brush over the crude, bright red antlers attached to the small devil horns, made from sticks and cardboard and painted bright red because that's her favorite color.

They look back up to the gate. They've tried climbing it a few times. It hasn't worked yet. The bars are too smooth and there aren't any horizontal ones.

But then their eyes land on the string of lights, and they have an idea.

They slips halfway up and pitch backwards.

There's a moment where they hug the antlers and squeeze their eyes shut, waiting for the impact. Instead, they feel several lines of tension pull taut across their body, and then they feels their hat fall from his head.

When they open their eyes again, it's to the sight of the street. Upside down. Looking up (or is it down now?) reveals that they managed to tangle themself in the various strands of lights.

They wiggle slightly, hoping to free themself. They don't, kind of expectantly.

They wiggle again.

Same result.

Dang.

With no more options, they resort to their last resort.

"MOOOOOOOOM!"

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

Despite how many times they call out for her, however, mom does not come to their rescue. They eventually realize that she probably can't hear them.

They resort to their second last resort.

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!"

Same result.

Dang.

Eventually they just fall silent with a sigh, and they make peace with the fact that they are going to freeze to death. There are worse ways to go. Probably. It isn't that cold though, so it'll probably take a long time. What do people do in these situations? Do they try to write their biographies? That sounds boring though. Maybe they should just-

They blink as the Holiday's car pulls to a stop in front of them. Aunt Carol steps out from the driver's side, and Uncle Rudy steps out from the passenger's side, both looking flabbergasted, as mom said once. Or, wait… is Uncle Rudy on the driver's side? That wouldn't make sense, Aunt Carol always drives. Maybe-

They wonder if the blood rushing to their head is having an effect on them.

"Hi, Noelle!" they beam when they see her step out from behind her mom.

"Kris?!" she exclaims, running up to them with a panicked expression. "What are you doing?!"

"I wanted to see you and give you your gift," they say, handing it out to her. She takes it, eyes sparkling as she turns it over in her hands, realizing what it is. "But the gate wouldn't open even though I said the magic word, so I tried climbing it and I got stuck. What're you guys doing?"

"We were Christmas shopping," says Aunt Carol, laughing now as she walks up to them. Whether it's at them or Noelle absolutely beaming as she puts the bright red, fake antler-laden headband on, they don't know. Probably both.

"Yeah," says Uncle Rudy, walking up as well. He frowns, poking them in the belly and eliciting a giggle. "Hey, honey. Do you remember putting up this weird Krismas decoration? Because I sure don't."

They all laugh loudly. At least until they suddenly drop a few inches before shuddering to a halt again.

Aunt Carol and Uncle Rudy glance at each other. "Let's… get them down from there, shall we?" she says, and he hastily nods.

Five minutes and one soft landing in the powdery snow later, they're sat in front of the Holiday's fireplace, warming up with a cup of hot cocoa alongside Noelle.

That was fun.

But it gave them an idea.

They had almost made it to the top. They could have gotten over, if only the lights hadn't slipped. But they know dad has that old fishing net in the garage. And his weight set. Both of which could be easily tied together.

What if they…?


ICE-E'S, quite frankly, freaks them the heck out. They don't like going there. At all. Even though Dess and Azzy and Noelle seem to love it.

It might be because their mom and dad (their real ones) used to take them to a pizza place that actually had properly working arcades and no glitchy, smelly animatronics. It might have been because that pizza place also had way better pizza that didn't have weird and bizarre toppings. Like ice.

They like cold pizza, but not like that.

Sometimes monster food just weirds them out.

But ICE-E's goes beyond that. Because Azzy told them the Secret. One night, under his covers, with the flashlight pointed up at his face.

ICE-E isn't just an animatronic. He's real.

And he eats kids.

Granted, that was when they were way younger, and they might be misremembering it, but they can't really doublecheck. Azzy made them pinkie promise not to talk about it. Otherwise ICE-E would hear and come eat them. Which is why Azzy had the flashlight like that. Apparently ICE-E also doesn't like light, so a flashlight will keep him away.

But they don't have a flashlight. They're actually not allowed them. Not after they tried to replace the bulb of one with that piece of quartz that Azzy said was magic.

So they're just kinda stuck like this. Sitting at the table with the adults, watching Dess and Azzy and Noelle play arcade games. Because joining them would mean getting closer to the stage where ICE-E and his weird, creepy, murdering friends are.

It sucks.

Sometimes they can get mom and dad or Uncle Rudy and Aunt Carol to take them to QC's Diner instead, but given it's usually three against one…

So… they have an idea.

It's risky. It's dangerous. But it's the only way they can see to get them to stop going to ICE-E's.

They're going to tell Noelle the Secret.

It's perfect. It'll be two against one. And given that they're both younger and therefore have higher pitched, more annoying voices, they'll inevitably win out when they beg to go to QC's.

They wait until Saturday, when Dess invites Azzy over to play wiffle ball and Noelle invites them over to play hide and seek in that weird mini forest they have on their property. But when Noelle tries to pull them over to it, they instead pull her over to a part of the lawn away from Dess and Azzy that's absolutely bathed in sunlight. Because, again, they are not allowed a flashlight, but ICE-E hates light, so… they have to make do with what they have.

"I've got a secret to tell you," they tell her, leaning in.

"Ooh!" she says, eyes sparkling as she also leans in. "What is it?!"

"So you know how I don't like going to ICE-E's?" they ask, and her expression immediately becomes slightly unimpressed.

"Yeah," she says, wrinkling her nose slightly. "Weirdo."

"No, no, listen!" they say, and her eyes light up once more. "Okay, so… the reason I don't like going to ICE-E's is because he's real. He's not just an animatronic. And he eats kids."

She stares at them for several seconds before snorting and shaking her head. "Kris, that's dumb," she laughs. "Even for you."

They stare at her in complete disbelief. How can she not realize they're serious?

Probably because they like sharing scary stories with each other. A lot. But-!

"It's true!" they say emphatically, following her as she walks back to the forest. "I promise! He's real, possessed by this ghost of a guy who used to kill kids, and-!"

"Kris, give it up," says Noelle, looking back at them with a decidedly bemused and smug look. "Or I'll go get Dess and make her hit you with a wiffle bat until you tell the truth."

Their hands and mouth flop uselessly. "But it's true!" they say, and she shrugs.

"Fine then," she says, pelting off in the direction of Dess and Azzy.

They run after her.

"Dess!" calls out Noelle, and her big sister turns around with a confused look, wiffle bat in hand. "Kris is saying that ICE-E is real and eats kids and won't admit they're just trying to scare me so can you hit them with a wiffle bat until they admit they're lying?!"

Even in their slight panic, they can appreciate her lung capacity.

"Sure," says Dess, stalking forward with an evil smile. "Here, Krissy, Krissy, Krissy~."

They run in the opposite direction, but Dess is three years older and therefore has longer legs. And arms. And more stamina.

The hits don't hurt, entirely because it's a wiffle bat. But Dess has good aim. Whenever they open their mouth to protest their innocence, they get a wiffle bat in the mouth.

"It's-AGH! tru-UGH! Stop it!" they say, laughing even as Dess knocks them across the back of the head.

"Stop lying then," grins Dess back, hitting them in the butt.

"I'm not-" they roll away before Dess can hit them again, "lying!"

But then they catch sight of Azzy stood behind Noelle and looking… uncomfortable?

They blink at that, trying to puzzle out why he'd…

Oh.

He'd pranked him.

A lot of stuff makes sense now. Even why he isn't speaking up about it.

They prank people. Azzy is the goody-two-shoes. They probably wouldn't believe him even if he did say he's the one who told them in the first place. They'd just assume he's trying to cover for them. Which is fine with them. They have reputations to maintain anyways.

"Fine!" they say loudly, collapsing on the grass. "I lied! Happy?"

Dess looks down at them, a look of intense contemplation on her face.

She hits them in the forehead.

"Now I am!" she says, dancing back as they make a lunge for her ankles.

"AZZY!" they yell, standing up and holding out their hand. "BAT!"

Azzy laughs but tosses them the wiffle bat as requested.

Dess looks remarkably more unsure as they weigh the weapon in their hands and then point it at her.

"ON GUARD!" they yell, and Dess turns tail and runs. They give chase, wiffle bat held aloft like a sword. Eventually Noelle and Azzy dig up the other two spare wiffle bats and they split into teams. Azzy and them against Dess and Noelle.

Somehow this is how their wiffle ball games always end.

That night, as they're lying in bed, Azzy says, "I didn't think you still remembered that story."

"I remember everything."

"Patently untrue."

"Shut up."

Silence reigns after that. In just a few minutes they hear Azzy's breathing deepen as they drifts off to sleep. For their part, though…

For their part…

They have an idea.

Well, they've had it for a while, but they've been too scared of ICE-E and his pals to do anything about it. But now that they know they're just dumb animatronics…

They know the actual animatronic stuff is completely separate from the suits. Which are detachable. They've seen the employees wearing them sometimes. And they've seen that those same employees are almost always too busy carting pizza around the place to keep an eye on the animatronics. Heck, that's why most of the time ICE-E and his pals don't even move. They're too busy to start up their little singing sequence again.

With that thought in mind…

Noelle wasn't scared with just a story.

With the ICE-E suit, though… maybe they could…

They grin up into the gloom of their bedroom.

They have an idea.