Chapter 74s: Factionary

Factionary. Yet another crazy tradition that Chris and Clara, the fakest of fakes, are pushing on us under the guise of a family night activity.

And I hate the fact I am enjoying that tradition, even more-so because I know it is a stupid manipulative invention on their side to try and prepare us sisters for the 'real' world.

'Some day, you will be grateful you read the paper every day.'

Pffffffft...! Whatever! If there were no rewards involved, why else would Nee-san and I spend our time reading the newspaper every morning?

Winning rounds means opting out of chores. And winning rounds means...

"Setsuka! Are you going to join us any time today?"

Clara's voice comes from downstairs with her trademark impatience. Ugh..! Just let me be, you old frumpet! Showers take time, and drying off does too, nevermind being presentable!

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I see that my brushing effort is only half-successful so far. For all the water I dried off, it is still pointing in all the different directions. It can't be helped; skimming through the paper while brushing is bound to be a bit distracting.

"Five more minutes!" I call back, making sure to let me annoyance shine through. There's no response, unless the closing of the hallway door to keep the heat out can be considered as one.

I can't be like Nee-san. She's got all that hair that she just wraps up into a towel turban of movie-like quality. But for me, the towel is way too heavy and my hair itself is too flimsy and thin to be very wrappable. Last time, my neck started hurting after playing Factionary for twenty minutes with one of those things, no doubt in part because I kept having to try and not have it fall off.

No thanks. I'll just brush my hair for a little while longer. And read about things in a bit more detail. In the name of victory and the perks that come with it!

For as far I am concerned, any means to opt out on Clara's groceryshopping trips is a must-get. She sees them as special one-on-one time that makes those an absolute torture! Anything but that! Even yard work is better than that!

As for Nee-san, she hates cleaning, so she can exchange those for things like the dishes and yard work. She's an outdoors gal, and having her drag around a vacuum cleaner or a bucket is without a doubt the best punishment someone could give her.

If they'd still let us, we'd just trade our disliked chores and be over with it. I'd spend twice as long doing chores every week, but I don't really mind. It is like drawing: you just zone out and do it. Easy peasy. Nobody annoying that bugs you with endless chitchat or input or tasks or whatever.

Ugh. I should never have asked Jellybelly to give me some extra gummy bears for my trouble. She got into so much trouble for bribing me to do my chores, and unsupervised chore trading was banned entirely to boot.

So now we've got the Fictionary competition. And winning is important.

I close the paper decisively and put it aside, looking back up. Ah. That's way better now. My hair actually looks halfway orderly now! A hurried application of balm to my lips later I rush down the stairs with a bit of a hop in my step.

"Slowpoke! We almost started without you!"

Jellybelly is chastising me from the sofa as I enter the living room, and I stick my tongue out at her while dealing with my inner grievances. How can she look so fashionable and grown-up even in a towel turban and Winnie-the-Pooh pyjamas?

Is that the power of grown meatjugs? Or is it just because her legs are longer and contrast so nicely against the sitting room table that got pushed to the side to make room?

Thankfully, we've had exchanges of such pleasant hostilities a dozen times already, so the exchange we slip into pretty much happens without any conscious thought to it on my part.

"Then let me shower first next time!"

"I am not waiting till you finish doing the dishes to do my shower!"

"Then don't complain!"

"Do too!"

"Girls, girls. I've already got a headache, please don't make it any worse. Can we just get started? Jenny, since you had time to prepare, why don't you begin?"

Chris finally wanders into view from the kitchen while holding a bowl with crisps, and Clara isn't far behind with a tray of drinks. Jenny smiles eagerly, bounding up from the sofa. "Finally! You're sooo going to lose, pipsqueak!"

I roll my eyes as I playfully bump my shoulder against her arm, and plop down on the sofa that she so nicely warmed up. Unfortunately, the presence of actual adults who want to sit down besides me means I can't even try to compare my own legs against the sitting room table.

Later, maybe.

Soon, we're all snug as sardines, watching Nee-san as she goes about her turn of acting something out. I don't even remember what the original game is called to be honest, but it is pretty famous and all about acting out some subject that others have to guess.

And our version of it means it has to be some sort of recent event. If we can figure it out, she and the person to guess it gets a point. And the more we can explain about the event in question, the more bonus points we can collect.

Unfortunately, we are limited to what we can act out by the paper Chris gives us thirty minutes before the fact. We each get our own, and this is supposed to avoid Jenny and I from fixing the competition to our mutual benefit beforehand.

Her first go has her acting out a driver. Then, she's strangling herself with her fingers, plopping onto the ground. And then, she's crawling...

"Oooh...! The accident on the M24 with the lorry driver!" I call out. "The one which crashed and had all those pigs running amok on the highway. It took them like three hours to round up all the little oinkers and free the road again. Unfortunately, the driver died to his heart attack."

Jenny is clapping for me, and Chris is nodding approvingly. Some extra thoughts are offered - apparently some group wants deadmans switches for lorries transporting any sort of living being - but it isn't like this was a huge article to begin with. Just memorable.

The game goes on, and we act out a lot of things as a family. The war that finally broke out. A nation-wide strike to try and force a president out of his office that failed gloriously. The old granny who had her savings stolen from underneath her mattress while she was sleeping in it. The examples are endless.

And then Clara's turn arrives. "I think you two will remember this one." she offers Jenny and I as she offers her spot to Chris who failed to do a suitable impression of the Queen. Sure, she's a bit smaller and older, but so are so many old grannies! And that crown might as well have been a mohawk or something, the way he gestured all that!

I really need a fifth point to be rid of shopping trips for this month, dangit!

Taking a few crisps into my hand, I stare at Clara as she acts out something weird. She's on tip toes. Grabbing something from the ground. Looking over her shoulders. Waving it around... or.. no, rubbing it.

Huh?

Then... she repeats it, running to the other side of the room, and also repeating that one there. She has to repeat it twice more before I realize... and I find that Jellybelly is also looking at me.

She already figured it out, I can tell. But she's waiting. She probably wanted to give me the point... but... this is bad.

"Uh... is this about the dung vandalist?"

My voice couldn't be softer, even though I try to be loud. Damn it. I need to keep a poker face, but my lips slip into a grin.

Clara nods, grinning. "Took you long enough. Geez. You girls were laughing so hard about that little article last week, I thought you'd figure it out straight away!"

I exchange another glance with Nee-san, and we burst out into laughter. "We never thought you'd act that out!" I offer defensively, trying really hard to not go red like a tomato and get busted.

Thankfully, God appears to look well upon my mischief, because Clara must think we're just a bit weirded out by her picking something feces-related. "So what else can you girls tell me...?

"Uh..." I swallow, glancing back at Nee-san. I should have my five points now that I've got this guess, and I'm totally going to give myself away if I answer in detail. Thankfully, she saves me.

"They've struck four times. One it was a tractor, once it was the hood of a car, another time the windshield and the final time a turd was mushed into the door handle of a police car. As of yet, the perpetrator has not been found, although the police suspect it to be a result of road rage."

God, I can't hold it in anymore. I really can't..!

I burst out into mad giggles. And soon, Nee-san follows my example into uncontrollable laughter.

Clara seems to be catching the bug too, but it is Chris that is sitting up straighter, staring at me in particular. "What do you mean, Jenny?" he asks, but instead, he is looking at me.

"How do you mean, what do I mean?" she responds, a bit confused but playing her giggles off like a pro socialite.

But Chris just keeps looking at me like some sort of obsessed scent hound. And I feel my giggles slipping off and my attempts at a pokerface becoming considerably harder to pull off.

"You said 'they', honey. Not 'he'. Not 'she'. But 'they'. So what did you mean by that?"

I don't need to share a glance with Jenny to know we are in serious trouble. Fuck...!