Disclaimer:
The Loud House and all associated characters are owned by Nickelodeon. I make neither profit from this work of fiction nor claims of ownership over the show.
The neighbor's house looked normal. It looked quaint. It looked cozy. It looked welcoming. It also, on an unrelated note, reminded him of an egg, with its egg white walls and its yolk yellow roof, the red door up front even reminded him of ketchup. But weird color scheme aside, it looked nothing out of the ordinary. Yup. Just a normal two-story house on a normal unsuspecting neighborhood…
To the untrained eye that is!
But he knew better. Inside those egg white walls was a dastardly den for dangerous desperados!
And he was going to crack that bad egg wide open.
Why?
Because Secret Agent Lincoln Loud was ready for anything! Whether they be Ghastly Specters, Invading Aliens, Super Villains, or his old nemeses – S.U.S.P.E.N.S.E. Spies. He was ready for them all. Because the only thing standing between them and the total annihilation of Royal Woods was his steadfast vigil!
He'd been keeping tabs on the renovation process for days, scrutinizing it through his binoculars and taking records with his cellphone. Watching for suspicious activities. Waiting for something extraordinary. Anticipating any reason to spring into action! Sure, it may have taken a lot of his free time and a lot of all-nighters that resulted in zilch… And it may have also resulted in him dozing off on another stakeout earlier that morning – But that didn't matter! It was ultimately in his favor in the end. He was wide awake and ready for action!
And just in time too.
It was finally time to initiate Operation Spy on The New Neighbors So That He Can Apprehend Their Evil Scheme and Save The State of Michigan From Total Catastrophe Once Again and Also Think of a Shorter Name for This Operation!
Peering through his binoculars, he locked in on the vehicle at the front of the house. Any second now, someone was going to step out of it and be his first actual suspect. The first few didn't count, of course. Those were just workers from a moving company, ones that he may or may not have annoyed while they were transporting things with his mission, and not the actual mysterious new residents moving in. But he had a good feeling about this one.
This one for sure!
But after a few minutes of inactivity, boredom and disappointment started to take over him again. He was about to chock the whole thing up as another bust – but then it finally happened. He perked up and readied his binoculars again.
A rush surged through him as he sharpened his focus. The vehicle was finally… It was finally…
Driving away.
He blinked, before lowering his binoculars.
DRIVING AWAY!?
He gaped as the vehicle grew smaller and smaller until it completely disappeared from sight, leaving exhaust fumes and regret in its wake. His hand seemed to have moved on its own as it found its way to his face. Hard.
He peered through his binoculars again, focusing on the house this time. Front yard. Vacant. Back yard. Vacant. Curtained side window… Movement detected!
Dang it!
He missed his mark! The targets weren't on the move - they were already at their evil base of operations! And he didn't even get a clear visual on them!
He scolded himself as he flung the bathroom door open, rushed down the stairs, ran past the kitchen, through the back door, bounded past the backyard, before jumping over the fence.
No time to suit up. No time for fancy gadgets. No time to get backup.
He needed a clearer visual. He needed a new vantage point. He needed it now.
Fortunately, he found one immediately. At the base of a towering oak tree, right next to an entrance of a rabbit burrow, was a bush that could conveniently cover a person's small frame. It had a good visual on the back of the neighbor's house and his own. In short, it was the perfect surveillance spot.
Settling beneath one of the oak's low hanging branches, he covered himself with the bush as best as he could. He tried to gather his composure for the actual start of the mission, but a strange feeling of déjà vu found him first. Something about this scenario felt familiar…Had he forgotten something happening here? He scratched the back of his head, before shaking it. Whatever it was, it was not worth jeopardizing the mission for! Everything around him may feel familiar, but the bush in front certainly didn't. He chose to focus on that as he pointed his binoculars to the neighbor's house yet again.
But as soon as he did, he felt something press his chin from below. Something cold. Hard. Metallic.
His body grew rigid, as his insides plummeted to the center of the earth. The bush shifted position; its leaves rustled like a rattlesnake about to strike. But that unnerving sound was nothing compared to the one that followed.
"No sudden movements," A voice warned, followed by the sound of a heavy click. "Drop the binoculars. Hands where I can see them. Turn around. Slowly. Fail to comply - I will open fire."
And with the disciplined mind of a trained agent such as him… He reacted appropriately.
"Don't shoot!" He blurted as his body jerked up. "I was just-"
It happened in an instant.
A loud snap. A sharp ringing. Stiffness. Heaviness. The world crashing towards him. Vision blurring. A bush. A girl wearing camouflage. Her surprised face getting closer and closer…
Then everything went dark.
Dang it.
"Stop swarming him! Stand down, soldiers!" Betty yelled, struggling to reign in the crowd away from the boy. "Stay in formation!"
"Well, Betty, you finally did it…" Brenda snarked, "You finally snapped and offed someone, huh? What now? You gonna keep his body in the basement or something?"
"He's not dead, soldier. Unconscious. He'll come too eventually," explained Betty, narrowing her eyes. "And I don't need backtalk about proper protocol procedures from you, Brenda. Not with your record. Keep that to yourself. I don't want you intimidating civilians again."
"Like I care about your, or some other randos opinion. I hate strangers!" Brenda bristled, pocketing her hands inside her hoodie. She glanced at the boy, before scowling. "And that's rich, coming from you! 'By-the-numbers Betty,' the girl that just dragged an unconscious guy down our basement! Messing up because of a boy…Unbelievable. Tsk. You better hope he does wake up, Betty. Because if he doesn't, I'm gonna do the same thing you did to him!"
Betty reddened, growling, "Listen here, soldier. I wasn't compromised by a – " She paused, glancing at the boy, before widening her eyes at Brenda. "Why do you care, Brenda? I thought you hated strangers?"
"I – I do hate them! What are you implying?" Brenda flinched, red crept up her face, "T-that I'm into him, or something? That I'm being prickly because you might've hurt him? That's insane! Why would you think that? I don't even know him! He's a stranger - I hate strangers! A-And he looks lame - I hate lame-o's too! And I especially hate lame-o strangers! It doesn't matter how cute he looks– I still hate him!"
"Don't say that, Brenda, you'll hurt his feelings!" Brandy ran to the boy, before hugging him tight like a squeaky toy. "You can't just hate him cause he's cute! That, umm, doesn't make sense… Right?" Brandy asked, looking up and tapping her chin, deep in thought. She turned to the boy for answers, then beamed. "Yeah! it doesn't! When I look at him, I feel butterflies in my tummy, and I feel like smiling, and I always want to keep him close to me! Don't you feel that way when you look at him, Brenda?"
"W-Why the heck would I feel that way about him, Brandy!? And who said anything about him being cute!? Do you have crud in your ears?" Brenda shouted, voice higher than usual, "You must've misheard me because I didn't say anything! I mean why would I say something like that – About a lame-o, no less! Nobody wants lame-o's! Only an airhead would want a lame-o like him!"
"Well, I'm not an airhead, and I think he's perfect - even if no one else does!" Brandy proclaimed, before perking up at the realization. "Oh my gosh! Does that mean no one owns him? Can I keep him then? Can I? I promise I'll take good care of him! I'll give him a home, and feed him, and clean him, and play with him, and be his best friend, and I'll always keep him close to me! So, can I keep him? Can I? Can I? Pleeeeeease!"
"Doggone it, Brandy! Don't go on talkin' about 'im like he's one o' them stray critters. That feller ain't no pet…" drawled Beulah, hooking her fingers on her denim shorts, fingers grazing the length of rope that dangled on them. Beulah's cheeks lit up as she whistled in amazement. "Ah do believe, we have ourselves a wild stallion right here! And a real beut at that! Shoot, this place ain't fit for a critter like him, Brandy. He deserves to be back where he belongs. In the wild. Riding off with other the majestic beasts."
"Well, it doesn't matter what he is! He's my responsibility now, Beulah." Brandy pouted, sticking her tongue out. "I can't let him run away, I just got him! We haven't even played together yet! And - and what do those wild beasts have that I don't, anyway? I can be a majestic beast too! I'll learn how to be one if it means he'll stay with me."
Beulah shook her head. "That ain't gonna cut it. Being a majestic beast means more than acting like one, partner. They're free spirits! And he ain't gettin' none o' that freedom cooped up in here, you understand? That's why Silver here needs to be set free…" Beulah explained somberly. Suddenly, she threw a rope around the boy. A toothy smile took over her face as she tightened it. "And it's also why ah'm coming with him, Yeeee-haw! So long, ya'll! Me n' silver are gonna ride off into the sunset together and have ourselves a hog killin' time! Never looking back! Just the two of - "
"You're not taking him anywhere!" Betty stomped her foot, catching everyone's attention. "He's my captive!"
"You're captive? Now, hold on now. I don't take kindly to you, city folks, botherin' the pretty boys 'round these parts, Greencoat," Beulah spat, fingering the brim of her cowgirl hat, flashing the sheriff badge on top. "'sides Silver ain't got no bounty on his hide, I'd know if he did."
"He…" Betty puffed her chest, flashing her own badge on her jacket. "Was executing a recon mission near our perimeter, you loose-cannon! I took him in for - "
"R-Recon! Near here!? T-They're finally doing it! I knew this day would come eventually - they know I know too much! I had contingencies for body doubles, robots, and aliens carrying out the hit," panicked Brooke, hands on her face as she ran in circles. "But I never expected this! Sending someone like him to do it! They finally found it!"
"Hoo-wee! Girl's jumpier than a jabbering jackrabbit on a sugar rush today!" Beulah fingered the brim of her hat in confusion. Watching with the rest as Brooke ran around, babbling theories and conspiracies. "Brooke, what in tarnation are you talking about? Found what?"
"Him! T-They're using my romantic preferences against me, somehow! The turkey tail - the chipped front teeth – the white hair – close to my age - H-He's exactly my type! No one else knows my type! E-Even I didn't know he was my type until I saw him! T-That's what they found! My secret weakness." Brooke flushed, pointing a trembling finger at the boy. "H-He's here to s-s-s-seduce me! A-And then kill me!
"…You've said a lot of absurd things in the past, Twitchy. But that was, literally, the most ridiculous one yet. He's not here for you, and he's not your secret anything, Brooke," Belinda chastised, before suddenly squealing, "Because he's my secret admirer! Oh-Em-Gosh, I can't believe it's finally happening! I'm literally meeting my one true love right now! I mean, he's unconscious – but that's fine! More time to spend with me! It'll be like the start of my fave rom-coms~"
"A-Are you insane!" Brooke exclaimed, "D-Do you want to be his target!? D-Do you want to be disarmed by those good looks? Do you want him to learn everything about you, huh? Paying attention to you all the time… and spending quality time together… and building a life together… and…and…" Brooke's expression melted into mush, giggling at the thought. Suddenly, her hand shot across her face, slapping herself back to reality. "A-And then kill you! Y-You do realize he was just about to do all that?! He was outside our house already. Watching. Y-You're crazy if you want that to happen!"
"Oh, I'm crazy all right. Crazy in love~ I'd love nothing more than to be the target of his affection. Oh-Em-Gosh! I just realized something! Isn't that cute, you guys? We're literally perfect for each other!" Belinda swooned, one leg folding back. "I literally would've watched him outside his house too if I was the one that saw him first~"
They inched away from Belinda after that statement.
"Uhh - As if! Why you, Belinda? He's totes here for me. I mean, isn't it obvs? I do have a way of catching people's attention, just sayin'," said Blair, strutting to the boy like she was on a catwalk. Her face lit up as a sigh escaped her lips. "Especially the well-dressed cute ones~ So basically, I can't really blame him for trying to sneak a peek... Though, he should've just asked me upfront, I deffo would've wanted a closer look at him too! We could admire each other's good sides better that way."
"Hey! Don't talk about my secret admirer like he's your arm candy!" Belinda hissed, "Ugh! Only you would see the start of our cute love story and make it all about you, Blair."
"Me, and him, you mean. And what's wrong with both of us being each other's arm candy? It's only natural when our looks compliment that well with one another, just sayin'." Blair flipped her hair over her shoulder. "What can I say? Us tens have a way with finding each other. It's, like, practically destiny."
"As auspicious as this occasion is, I sincerely doubt the universe would destine souls together on their visage alone, Vain one," chimed Bodhi, rising from her lotus position, "Our physical forms are temporary and inconstant, after all. Perhaps it's something more… something deeper inside us. Essence, perhaps? That which determines compatibility with another in ways one can't even comprehend. That which joins souls together for a lifetime, and beyond. And that which binds his… to mine."
"That's, like, so hilarious! You're saying he's here for your weirdness, rather than my attractiveness?" Blair scoffed, inspecting her nails. "Yeah right, Tie-dye. In another life, maybe."
"Indeed… it would not be the first time." Bodhi smiled, her face lit up as she brought out a garland of flowers and approached the boy. "Just as the waves of the ocean returns to the shore, our fates have intertwined once again… My Soulmate."
"Soulmate she says! Universe she says! Ha! I know why he's here…" Bernice smiled, before hoisting a dinosaur plush overhead in veneration. "It may have taken seven birthdays wishes, five shooting stars, hundreds of broken wishbones , thousands of bald dandelions, countless wishing wells, AND daily offerings to Blarney - But it was all worth it, Baby! My luck finally paid off!"
"Luck… such a half-blind way of interpreting the mysteries of the universe." Bodhi shook her head, before raising an eyebrow. "And your devotion to this 'Blarney the Dinosaur' figure is as concerning as it is fabricated, Superstitious one."
"Go on about your mumbo jumbo all you want, Bodhi. Fact is, I've been wishing my whole life to be with someone like me," Bernice flashed her four-leaf clover hairpin, face reddening as she turned to the boy. "And now, Mister Lucky Rabbit over here just made me the luckiest girl in the entire world! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be taking him and-"
"You can't take what belongs to the underworld, Bernice," Bella warned… her voice seemed to echo loud and ominously in the basement despite her monotone voice. "You read the signs wrong. He's not your childish wishes come to life, He's an omen of what's to come. Your 'Lucky Rabbit' is actually my Dark Familiar. I was the one who summoned him all these years. He belongs to my domain… with me."
"I- I'm not scared of you, Bella!" said Bernice… behind her Blarney the Dinosaur plush that she held up. "And I don't care how much you want him; I'm not leaving my lucky charm with you! Especially in your grody basement!"
"The darkness is my domain, not the basement," Bella hissed, her pale face tinting a faint pink. "And what's wrong with him joining me in the basement? To be embraced by the cold and shadow…He'd love it, especially now, with his half-alive state. A little candlelight and it would be really roma -"
"For the last time - He's not dead!" Betty roared, getting everyone's attention again. "Or dying!"
"Sigh…Not yet at least." Bella murmured to herself, "Then I could really get him all to myself."
"I brought him here for medical attention!" Betty continued, before turning to the boy's direction. "Medic! What's the status?"
"It's Blanch, Betty… And he's still unconscious." Blanch coughed, shifting the thermometer in her mouth as she reached for the back of the boy's head. "You really should tone it down with your roughhousing, you could've seriously hurt his hot – I mean healthy face. You could've broken his nose, or gave him a black eye, or knocked his teeth out, or fractured his – "
"- Just keep me updated on his status, Medic," Betty interrupted, before shooting Blanch a stern look. "And stop fondling him!"
"I – I wasn't fondling him!" Blanch blushed, quickly withdrawing her hands from the boy's hair. "I was just assessing if he sustained any more injuries! Like - like bruises, or - or bumps, or – a cut, or - "
"Right... Next time, medic, make sure you don't need first aid yourself, before assessing my captive for more injuries," said Betty, pointing at Blanch's nose.
Blanch squeaked at the realization; her hands flew to her face as she tried to control her nosebleed.
Betty rolled her eyes at the scene, before fixing the boy with a rigid look. She placed her swagger stick under his chin, lifting his head. "Now, what to do with you…"
"Ooh! investor's meeting?" said Bethany, spying an opportunity. "I have a pitch! Okay, get this…Why not – Here me out – Why not… Give him to me!" Bethany petitioned, unfolding a very long stationary. Her hands and eyes ran up then down its length until," Aha! Here it is - I have a vacancy for a very important position. One he'd be very qualified in."
Bethany smiled, before suddenly flashing the stationary to the crowd. They barely had a look as Bethany suddenly turned the stationary back to herself, used a pencil to make a check mark, then hid it behind her back. Bethany's mouth contorted into a sheepish grin.
The crowd murmured, suspicious. "Oh… you want to hire him, huh, Bethany? A workaholic, perfectionist, and independent worker like yourself?" The crowd fanned out, craning their necks to see the document behind her. "What position, then?"
"I- I can't tell you that." Bethany's face reddened as she twisted and turned, trying to keep prying eyes away from her list. "Trade secret, you know how it is... Rival companies... Non-disclosure agreements... Insider secrets and - "
"Check mark…" said a voice from behind her. "Find… Future… Husba – ".
Bethany squawked, flailing her arms in the air. Bethany's mouth suddenly moved a mile a minute, "You know what, I'm not gonna bother all of you with the nitty-gritty! It's just fine print and corporate red tape anyway! We can negotiate the minor details later! So how about the it, huh? Do we have a deal?" Transfer him to my department?"
"What, so he can do boring old paperwork with you all day? Hard Pass, Desk Jockey. He should be doing something more fitting for his station. Like dedicating his life and services to people that are actually important." said Bernadette, appraising the boy. By the time she was done, her face was pink. "Hmph. Not like the others I'm used to. But good enough, I guess… How much do you want for him?"
"H-Hey! You can't do that!" Bethany protested, pointing a pencil at Bernadette. "This isn't an auction! It's a pitch meeting! You can't just do a hostile takeover!"
"Oh, can't I?" Bernadette challenged, bringing out her purse. "Whatever anyone offers for him, I'll double it. Triple it, even. Quadruple it if I have too. Money is no object. Just as long as I get my man!" Bernadette reddened, realizing what she just blurted. "… servant? Man-servant, yeah! That's what I meant! Just as long as I get my man-servant!"
"…Astounding." Beatrice deadpanned, adjusting her glasses to scan the boy. "Even I couldn't conceive of a more appalling approach to squander such a fascinating specimen," A wayward grin crept on her face as she continued. "If any of you had half a cerebrum, you would recognize that I am the ideal candidate to handle this… Sui Generis of an individual. He would be a very indispensable asset for my research."
"Yeah, great idea!" mocked Bernadette, inspecting her manicured nails. "Instead of doing him a favor by giving him to me - Give him to the girl that'll turn him into a lab rat!"
"Your apprehension is unwarranted…And your implications regarding me conducting explicit and scandalous experiments on him is, unquestionably and undisputedly Preposhteroush-" Beatrice reddened as she slapped a hand on her mouth, before clearing her throat. "-Preposterous. I will even personally guarantee a ninety-nine point, nine, nine percent chance that he will retain his breathtaking physique..."
"Sayeth the maid who ofttimes threatens our good health with thine experiments! I think not, Beatrice. 'Tis a trap, most foul and treacherous! Thine ill intentions shall only bring ruin 'pon the fellow," quoth Birdie, holding aloft a book in one hand. "'T'would be better to act in one, than to experience one by thy hand, methinks… In mine own stage plays! I even have the perfect role for the gent! To thee goes the honor of bringing mine own creative vision to life!"
"Yes… because your antiquated commitment to stage play 'authenticity' has never yielded disastrous results before, Birdie." Beatrice rolled her eyes, calculator on hand. "Compared to your 'dramatizations,' the results of my experiments are innocuous. Hence, it would be inadvisable to involve my specimen in another one of your 'tragedies.'"
"Thy disbelief in my capability for variety in playwrighting is staggering, Charlatan! 'Tis not a tragedy!" Birdie blushed, hiding her face behind her book, "It's a romance…. about star-crossed lovers, of a bookish young maiden and her pale-haired consort. Whose time together is tragically cut short, as her lover is beset by scores of unworthy suitors, vying for his hand in marriage. So starts the bookish maiden's journey to save her lover from such a terrible fate. It's a tale filled with Romance! Drama! Mystery! and Actio– "
"This isn't the time for another one of your flights of fancy, Birdie! Or any of yours!" Betty yelled, drawing the attention of the crowd. "And I wasn't relaying orders for suggestions!"
"And what, pray tell, is thine intensions for him then, Lord Commander?" said Birdie, burying her head on her book, "Recruit him as thy man-at-arms?"
"Negative, soldier!" Betty snapped, swagger stick swishing in the air in a flustered manner. "I was deliberating on waking him up! Until you all-"
"Pfft! You want him up?" Bertha scoffed, lifting dumbbells like they were nothing. "No sweat, Brah. I've seen a lotta posers pass out in the gym. I got this, check it. You just gotta slap him a bit and then… BAM! It's all good! Dude'll be up and running before you know it." Bertha grinned at the boy. "Lucky you, Tiger. You're gonna be getting some love taps from good ol' Bertha, Baby! Yeah-Yuh!"
"Hey! You can't just slap him!" Bailey protested, with a catcher's mitt on one hand, and a baseball on the other. "When the game's down to the last inning you always bring in the M.V.P.! The best slugger of the lineup. I'm steppin' up to the plate! He'll wake up to the most incredible swing of the season, be so inspired by my mad swing skills – Then BOOM! He'll be my biggest fan ever!"
"Or you'll choke and blow it… even though he's not even a moving target!" Bertha snickered, dropping her dumbbells on the ground with a heavy thud. "I'm doing it. My muscles are primed and ready!"
"Primed and ready, yeah… for losing!" Bailey stuck her tongue out, pointing her catcher's mitt at Bertha "I'm doing it! Your lame muscles got nothing on my awesome wrist technique."
"Oh, heck no, Bro! Nobody insults my shredded bod and gets away with it!" Bertha snapped her sweatband against her head. "You and me, Brah. We're settling this. You get his left – I get his right. First one to wake him up wins!"
"Deal! Winner. Takes. All." Added Bailey, twisting her ballcap back. She turned to the boy, grinning. "If I win, I get my number one sports fan!"
"And if I win…" Bertha wondered, before smirking at the boy, "I get my special workout partner!"
They both turned to each other, glared, then nodded. Then readied their hands above the boy's face ready to drop as soon as the signal started. They counted down fast, "One! – Two! – Thr-"
"Hey, knuckleheads!" shouted a girl, her voice thick with an exaggerated old-timey accent. It barely stopped both girls' hands from reaching their destination. "You two'll just knock out the Knockout even more!"
Everyone groaned at the familiar voice. "Not that again… Bebe, put that puppet -"
"It's Handy-Quinn, ya Bozo! I get first billing in this comic duo – then Bebe!" Handy-Quinn crossed her small, puppet arms. "And I don't want you roughin' up doll-face over here! Tell 'em, Toots!"
"H-Q's right, guys. You'll just hurt him more," Bebe explained, taking over for her comic counterpart. Bebe's cheeks tinged as she continued, whispering, "She's just snippy because she secretly has a soft spot for him."
"Secret!? Ha! Finally Cott-on, have you? Oh, He's making me soft alright – so soft it's making me plush!" Handy-Quinn took over again, fawning over the boy. "You can't just wallop a kisser like that."
"Yeah. But if someone really has to wake him up…"Bebe tittered, opening her free hand and revealing a joy buzzer. She approached the boy, then reached for his hand. "It should be someone he has a special… Spark with! Hehe, Am I ri – Ow!"
"We are not performing one of your Opera Buffas today, Bebe," Barbara noted, swatting Bebe's wrist again with her conductor's baton, barely stopping her hand from making contact. "There is no need for scherzando in this composition – No fooling around."
"Hey! easy on the mitts, Barbara," said Bebe, using Handy-Quinn's plush hands to rub her wrist. Then brandished her joy buzzer. "You're not the only one that can play conductor around here."
"Yeah," said Handy-Quinn, drawing her own wooden rod, "And you're not the only one that can play slapstick around here too, Babs."
"That is exactly what I'm talking about. This piece calls for fewer fortissimos and more pianissimos. I am suggesting that this composition calls for a little more Affettuoso – Tenderness." Barbara blushed as she brought out her violin. "Which is why, I have decided to perform for him solo, with a serenata con amore. Surely my music would awaken my captivating audience from his stupor."
"Or your music will bore him so much he'll be out for a week, this time with the rest of us, Barbara," criticized Brie, before smiling as she thrusted a drink in the air. "If we're going to wake him up, then we should spice things up. Get him so fired up, he'll be up all night! And I have just the pick-me-up right here – My secret ingredient smoothie! It'll take him and his taste buds to a world of flavor, and the burning passion of my heart!"
"I am not letting you feed him con fuoco, Brie! Your blended pepper recipe will overwhelm him so much you'll poison him." Barbara huffed, fixing her bowtie. "And my compositions are nothing if not harmonious, all of just have bad taste."
"Bad taste? My recipes are five-stars Michelin! All of you have unrefined palates! Besides, peppers aren't even the secret ingredient this time. The secret ingredient is… something else. It – It definitely won't poison him." Brie blushed as she stuck two straw on the drink. " And - and to prove it to all of you, I'll even share it with him!"
"Well fancy that... Looks like we found ourselves at quite the impasse, haven't we, mates?" said Bippa, umbrella hanging on the crook of her arm, pouring herself a cup of tea from her teapot with the other. She sipped, before continuing, "At the rate we're going, the bonny lad might actually kick the bucket before we even reach a decision…And that'd be a right nasty bit of business, wouldn't it? Someone ought to do something right quick…"
"Yeah. And? what are you gonna do about it, Bippa? You two sharing your flavorless tea?" Brie asked, tongue sticking out in disgust, "It has nothing on my secret ingredient smoothie, by the way, so you better give up now. He's gonna like mine so much, he'll be asking for seconds. A-And share one with me again..."
"Oh no, nothing of the sort, mate. Though, I wouldn't turn my nose up as well if this strapping chap invited me for a cuppa, if you catch my meaning," Bippa sipped again, strolling to the boy. "And you're absolutely right, mate! That's a capital idea! You and the mate taking a swig of your pint - Brilliant! Go on then, Bottom's up! Better your idea than the others."
As soon as Bippa finished, the crowd exploded.
Outraged clamors of disagreement filled the air. Each trying to convince the other their solution was the best, before rejecting them and following it up with a harsh criticism. It didn't take long for insults to fill the air. It would've gone to blows, if it went on for another second. But then, a sharp whistle pierced the air, sending the crowd rushing to cover their ears. Effectively silencing them all. By the time the assault on their ears was over, everyone's attention was on the whistle blower.
"We are not executing an operation to wake him up! I said I was just deliberating on it!" shouted Betty, glaring at the crowd. Suddenly, she swiveled back to the boy's direction. "And you! what do you think you're doing?!"
The boy suddenly stopped moving. Caught in the act. Made all the more obvious by the fact that he was no longer in his original position. The silence was deafening as the crowd shot affronted looks on his form… more specifically, his neck.
"Bippa…" Betty seethed, "What were you doing with him?"
Bippa's cheeks tinged as everyone glared at her. She slowly returned the boy back where she found him, before unhooking her umbrella's crook from the boy's shirt collar. She cleared her throat, before suddenly schooling her expression to a confused one. "Dunno what you're getting at, constable? Me and the mate was just – Oy! Watch it!"
"Get back in formation, Soldier!" said Betty, practically thrusting Bippa back into the crowd. "I don't have time for more insubordinate behavior today!"
"Alright! Alright! Fair enough, you caught me… But I still meant what I said! Not the one about Brie's pint, though, Swill's still bloody ghastly," Bippa admitted as she fixed her bowler cap, ignoring Brie's glower. "About him. I was only trying to nick him because you lot keep getting distracted. Especially you, Betty. I mean, if you didn't want the lot of us closing in on the bloke then why bring him here in the first place? Honestly, mate, stop larking about and tell us why'd you really bring him here."
"I wasn't getting distracted! You all kept cutting me – Bah! Fine! This was supposed to be a solo operation but considering the circumstances, I'll disclose the sitrep… the lowest declassification level at least." Betty grumbled, addressing the crowd. Standing between them and the boy, before continuing. "Before I start, I'm giving you all a choice. Volunteers only. No backing out. Those that want to be involved, shut your traps and pay attention. Those that don't… get out of my sight."
The crowd exchanged wry looks and rolled their eyes. But whether it was because of sheer curiosity, or an odd sense of obligation to see the whole thing through, no one left. They all kept silent. Betty nodded and adjusted her shades, before continuing.
"You've been debriefed with what he did. What happened to him. And who I brought him here for. But transporting him here was only part of the mission." Betty pointed her swagger stick behind her. "It was also intended to discretely keep him away from someone. One of you. And if any of you paid attention to my reconnaissance training drills then you would've already noticed she's not present and accounted for in the platoon."
"Which one?" asked Bethany, "Last time I checked. There's only twenty-three of us here."
"TWENTY-THREE!?" Betty exclaimed, "Who's not present for rollcall!"
After another headcount - confirming the report, Betty looked at the others for answers. But the girls just looked at each other, then shrugged. Not knowing, and not caring enough to find out.
"Well, whoever she is, she better have remembered her training! If she realized who it was and volunteered for lookout duty just now, she should've confirmed it with me first!" Betty shot a cautious glance up the basement stairs. "Under no circumstances should the target discover this operation…"
"Just get on with it!" someone shouted in the crowd. "Whoever this 'target' is, I'm sure she –"
"It's Beverly."
The crowd sucked in their breaths. They sneaked a glanced at the boy, before looking around them. Finding cringing faces as they confirmed Betty's observation for themselves.
"Understand how tenuous the operation is now?" Betty grunted, gesturing to the boy. "You all know how the target…reacts."
"How she overreacts, you mean!" said Bianca from behind an easel and canvas, making wild and dramatic brushstrokes with her paintbrush as she continued. "Smother's gonna nag - and scold - and whine - for a week. This time especially!" She nodded at her canvas, before swiveling it to the crowd. "I've already commemorated the occasion, by the way. I want to add it to the collection before this all goes downhill - I call it, 'The Aftermath of a Beverly Incident – Portrait Number Six."
The crowd cringed at the sight of Bianca's art. It was all of them as caricatures suffering exaggerated stages of annoyance inflicted by a bawling girl at the center. "Bianca!" yelled someone in the crowd, "We don't have time for your dumb little art exhi – Hey, wait a minute!" The crowd shot suspicious looks at Bianca. "And what exactly did you paint yourself doing with him in the background?"
"Holding hands... it's an artistic representation of...uh," Bianca's face colored red as she turned away, hiding the painting behind her back. "I-It's a metaphor, you wouldn't get it. A-Anyway! We can admire my breathtaking art pieces another time – we have much more pressing concerns. Isn't that right, Betty?"
"…Affirmative," Betty casted a wary look at Bianca before continuing. "So, unless you all want another Beverly incident on our hands, then follow my orders. Go back up there. Act normal. Keep the target away and busy… While I deal with him." Betty gestured to the boy's direction. "Focus on the objective: Beverly can't find out about - "
"I can't find out about what?"
They all sucked in their breath. Turning their heads up the basement stairs they found a tower of boxes descending. The tower swayed and wobbled, but it did little to prevent the one carrying it from making her way down. But that was a given. The girl carrying it was, after all, pushing on – even though she couldn't see where she was going!
"That you all ditched unpacking so you could goof off?" Beverly remarked pointedly, before chuckling. "Well, I was surprised when I found the house empty and quiet… but that's nothing to be cross about, I suppose. Unpacking is rather boring work, So, I can't really blame you all for running off to play like kids."
When Beverly's feet reached the basement floor, the crowd winced.
"Though, I wish you could've told me too- Oh, and Beth too! I never would've found you all if it weren't for her. You know, you left her outside the basement door, right? Napping on the floor and – Uhh... Did you all facepalm just now?"
Groans filled the room as she beelined to the front of the crowd. Beverly settled beside Betty, who was massaging her temples. She shrugged as she turned to them, settling the boxes on the floor and continuing.
"Anyway, Isn't this swell, you guys! New house, new neighborhood, new school. A fresh start for all of us! I have a good feeling about all this. Things are going to change - for the better!" Beverly beamed at them, before continuing in a subdued tone. "Now… I know all this will take some getting used to, and we'll need some time adjusting. And the last time we did this, well, we didn't exactly get off on the right foot, did we? No, not at all. Not to each other, and especially not to… our neighbors. Our poor… poor neighbors."
Beverly's face shifted to a thousand-yard stare as she finished. Her eyes looked haunted as if recalling memories long forgotten… or long repressed. The crowd followed suite, adopting their own detached looks, but unlike Beverly, their matter of despondency was right in front of them.
Beverly shook her head before determination took over her face. "Which is why we should unpack later. We should do something different this time. Something that'll be good everyone. And I have just the thing! We're going to..." Beverly's eyes lit up. "Introduce ourselves to our new neighbors!"
The crowd bit their lips as they cringed, trying not to look at the boy directly behind the blissfully unaware Beverly, clasping her hands together in excitement.
"Two birds, one stone. We get to do some bonding together AND we get to leave a good impression with our neighbors! Wouldn't that be delightful? The ones next door would do nicely, I think. They have a very charming house. Their front yard needs a bit of tidying up, but it really adds to its charm, you know? And they have such lovely begonias." Beverly nodded, proud of herself for the idea. "Spiffy idea! Right, guys?"
"Y-yeah," said a stilted voice. "Why don't you go on ahead… and get ready. We'll meet you -"
"Oh no. Not just me, missy." Beverly wagged a finger. "All of us. We need to get ready. We need to look nice. We need to act nice. We need to be good neighbors. Respectable ones. Ones that won't annoy them and/or ruin their lives. We have one chance to make a good first impression if we want to fit in here. After all, we wouldn't want to overwhelm them… not like last time." Beverly shivered, before continuing with a smile. "Besides, it's better than poking around some crummy old basement isn't it?…Or would you all rather tidy up this place?" Beverly teased the gawking crowd, dusting her hands off on her waist apron. She spun around slowly, emphasizing the dust-covered basement. "And who knows~ We might even meet a cute bo – OH MY WORD!"
Beverly's shriek echoed loud and long in the basement. The crowd winced, standing there with bated breath. Preparing themselves mentally for the inevitable.
Beverly turned to the crowd, shouting, "WHAT HAVE YOU ALL DONE?!"
The crowd responded with their own excuses, exonerating themselves from any involvement. With their own tempos, their own inflections, their own pacing. All at the same time. The result was chaos, more discordant buzzing than discernible intelligent sentences. But amongst the clamor, one managed to rise above the rest. "It was Betty!" shouted one of them, "She knocked him out then dragged us all into this mess!"
"I didn't drag anybody, you traitors! All of you barged in on my containment facility, interfered with my clandestine operation, botched it into SNAFU, and then you all volunteered for service!" Betty snapped, "Before you all deserted! You're all dishonorably discharged –"
"So, you started all this?!" scolded Beverly, hands on her hips. "And what about the rest? Who placed him in an upright coffin, tied him up with rope, connected electrodes on his skin, scattered four leaf clovers on his hair, crowned a garland on his head, stuck a straw between his lips, fitted an ascot on his neck, hung an umbrella on his shoulder, stuck a note written with, "Please don't kill me - Brooke" on one hand, fixed a joy buzzer on the other, bled on his clothes, stained his collar with lipstick, taped a business card, and a paper written with "Lame-O" on his shirt, tucked dollar bills in his belt, fastened music sheets and an audition script on his pants, splattered paint on his shoes, propped his foot up with a ball, and left a dumbbell on the other!?"
The crowd, red faced, looked at different directions of the basement. They all seemed to have found the empty spaces interesting as they avoided the accusatory glare coming their way, whistling all the while.
Beverly's eyes flashed, as she erupted. "This is insane - We just moved here! We haven't even unpacked all our stuff - It hasn't even been a day. And you – all of you! Had one job! A simple one! And you managed to mess it up for all of us! Already! Never in my - I can't believe this! I let you all out of my sight for a minute and everything goes wrong – Look at what you all did! Look at it! I can't believe this – Involving him in all this…this… Nonsense! Doing all that to the poor boy, Honestly! Did you even think about his - What if he – What would happen if the boy… Ugh!" Beverly stomped her foot. "Do any of you even know his name?!"
The crowd answered all at once. Fighting to get a word in edgewise before Beverly starts another long-winded sermon. Spouting wild answers all the while.
"Oh my gosh, you're right! I haven't named him yet. Umm… How about, Milton? No! Leon. Wait, I change my mind! Luis. No, wait! Lincoln! No that doesn't fit him… Milton! Definitely, Milton!
"Sure do! That feller's name's Silver! You can tell by the color of his coat."
"I recognize him, but I don't know his name, not his current one at least… names are such fleeting and transitory impressions to the incomprehensible vastness of the cosmos.
"H-He doesn't have one! Secret service hitmen don't operate with their real names; they have codenames, to conceal their identity!"
"'Course I know his name, gov'nah! We were mates back in merry old England. It's Steele. David Steele."
"His name matters not! 'What's in a name? that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet~'"
Suddenly, the sound of an bomb being detonated was heard, followed by the sound of a suspense musical sting, then a trumpet signaling a funny failure, then a commonly used scream from movies, then an alert sound from a video-game. The stock sound effects seemed to go on and on, blaring loudly. Until everyone's attention was on the one playing them.
Bridget held her phone up, pressing a finger to her lips at the stunned crowd. She tapped on her phone, turning off the sounds, before pointing at the boy. The confused crowd looked on as Bridget tapped on her cellphone. Fast. She stopped, then pointed a finger at Beverly, drawing their attention to her.
A phone rang almost instantaneously.
Beverly furrowed her brow as she dug around her waist apron's pocket, taking out her phone. Her eyes widened as she inspected it. "Lincoln... Lincoln Loud?" Beverly said aloud, turning to the boy. She turned back to quiet girl in the middle of the surprised crowd. "That's his real name? How do you know his name, Bridget?"
Bridget held out two phones in response. One black, one pink. She pointed the pink one to her chest, then pointed the black one to the boy.
"Is that his phone?" Beverly gasped. "Did you hack someone's phone? Again!? Bridget, I told you not to – Oh no, Missy! Don't send me a sweat drop emoticon like that makes it better! How did you even get his… Brandy?! Brandy, what did I tell you about going after shiny things! Honestly, you two, how many times do we have to go through this?" Beverly sighed, holding out her hand. "Give me his phone, Bridget. I'm gonna…What do you mean, 'No?' Well, you can't keep it, Bridget. It's not yours!"
Bridget's face turned pink, shaking her head at Beverly. She kept her eyes on the boy, before drawing a shaky breath. Bridget pointed his phone to herself, then pointed it back to him stiffly. She continued doing the same gesture until her cheeks were red.
"You…" Beverly squinted her eyes, then widened them. "…Want to return it yourself? To him? Personally? You?"
Bridget perked up as her face colored an impressive red. She tried to hide it behind the phone, it did little to mask her embarrassment… but Bridget nodded all the same.
Beverly sighed as she crossed her arms, casting a disappointed look at the crowd. "…Unbelievable. As if doing all those things to him weren't enough… Now you guys also took his phone, used it to get his personal information, and now you all won't let me fix all this. This is ridiculous! How do you think he's – How do you think Lincoln's gonna react when he wakes up?"
"…Probably by pretending to still be unconscious," someone yawned from behind her.
They bewildered crowd turned to the source. Widening their eyes at the sight. They haven't even noticed her all this time, despite being in front of them.
Beth slumped over the boy. Resting her head on his shoulder, using it as a makeshift pillow. But despite its improvisational nature (and the fact that she was on her feet,) it seemed to have done its job well as Beth nuzzled herself deeper on the crook of his neck.
"Beth? You were awake for all that? What - Stop leaning on him, Beth. He's not your pillow - Now, what did you just..." Beverly frowned when a snore interrupted her. "Beth! Wake up! What did you say again?"
"What? Oh yeah…" Beth yawned, slipping out of and into unconsciousness, "If I was him and… I woke up to all of you… I'd probably pretend to still be unconscious… then wait for you all to go away… then make my escape…" Beth nuzzled his neck again, grabbed his limp arms, then draped them over herself. "I'd probably also want… someone to cuddle with… while I was pretending…"
Silence enveloped the room. Followed by the rhythmic sounds of light snoring. They stared at the sight of the two, before exchanging unsure looks at each other. Taking in everything she said.
"Oh, she's just sleep-talking again…" dismissed Beverly, breaking the silence. She walked to the girl, pried her off the boy, before dragging her slouched form to the crowd. "Doesn't know what she's saying…Honestly, all this time? Awake? Ridiculous… That's…There's just no way… Right?" She asked the crowd, keeping her eyes on the boy.
But none of them responded. They stared amid the quiet, keeping their attention on the boy. Holding in their breaths. Keeping their eyes open. Not moving a single inch.
Watching.
Waiting.
Expecting.
For something – anything to happen.
But after a moment passed, one that felt like an eternity, one filled with tenseness and anxiety.
Nothing happened.
A lengthy breath escaped their lungs as relief washed over them. They all looked at each other then rolled their eyes, admonishing the other for their foolishness silently. As if they themselves didn't believe the possibility in the first place. With renewed assurance, they turned their heads back to the boy...
Only to lose it all over again.
Because the boy named Lincoln Loud had his eyes open.
*Letters page:
To all reviewers and readers,
Thanks for the feedback, I appreciate it! The previous chapter was just a general overview on their characters, and small hints for their individual stories. It'll be updated from time to time. The running gags and character peculiarities will still be there, with a little extra oomph! in this story compared to 'Welcome to the Warrens.' And yes, this series will be it's own thing. I'm trying something different with the characters and the story, this time without the heavy presence of an over arching plot looming in the background. Though, that's not to say there isn't one... it'll just be hinted at in the background. I'm just trying to steer clear of too much melodrama in my stories, having too much of it in each chapter lessens the emotional impact of a resolution, I feel like. So this is my solution to that. Also because I wanted more room for romance and whimsy in my stories.
Thanks for your support and interest in this story, I really appreciate it as a fledgling fanfic writer on this site.
