5. This Magic Moment
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((
"Predictably, two weeks later, I realized how much of an asshole I was. But I was too proud to say so..."
"Benson can we hurry this meeting up? I got a glass of Muscle Milk with my name on it!" Muscle Man complained.
In the living room, Benson stood in front of the group and flipped through his clipboard, searching for that day's agenda. He didn't respond to Muscle Man.
Rigby studied his boss. Something... Something was off about Benson.
"Today," Benson said, squinting his eyes. "Today on the agenda..."
He looked tired. Like, really exhausted. And Rigby wouldn't be surprised if Benson hadn't eaten in days.
Benson blinked at his clipboard with red eyes. He couldn't read his own rushed, pissed off handwriting.
"I think we were going to start looking for a new grounds keeper?" High Five Ghost spoke up.
Benson nodded slowly, "Yeah. Um, because of... Recent developments we're going to have to get the word out there that help is wanted." Benson looked up and saw the park staff looking at him like he was about to faint. "What?"
"You okay, bro?" Muscle Man asked, genuinely concerned.
Benson snapped, "I'm fine."
Pops shook his head disbelievingly. "But you look famished, Benson! And quite exhausted, I might add."
"I'm fine, Pops," Benson said, less harsh.
Skips sat back and said nothing, watching Benson like he was some exotic animal. Rigby said nothing because he had no idea what the hell was going on. Was Benson like, sad or something?
"Okay, whatever. So other than finding Mordecai's replacement, what are we gonna do all day?" Muscle Man said while biting off a hangnail.
Rigby saw something inside of Benson just... rip. He tucked the clipboard under his arm, headed up to his office and quietly ordered them, "Everyone just clean something."
The staff (besides Rigby) looked amongst themselves, collectively shrugged and went to enjoy their unofficial day off.
Rigby waited until everyone was gone to follow Benson.
"Wait," Benson said rubbing his eyelids, "Wait, wait, wait. How do you know all this?"
Mordecai smiled guiltily. "Bros hide nothing from bros."
"Son of a bitch!" Rigby heard Benson yell. The exclamation was followed by something made of glass smashing.
Rigby stood outside Benson's office door, listening to what was probably his most intense tantrum in... Ever. And after a good fourteen minutes or so, the raging stopped. Then, just silence.
Rigby gently pushed the door open ever so slightly, not trying be too obvious.
Benson sat next to a pile of broken glass and a wooden frame, legs criss-crossed as he stared intensely at a picture. He didn't seem to notice Rigby, so the raccoon figured he could leave then and pretend he didn't see the broken chairs, and the papers thrown all over the floor and thirty-something gumball machine brooding over a staff photo.
Rigby took one step backwards, when Benson took a gasping breath.
"I can see you, idiot." Benson didn't even look up from the picture in his shaking metal hands. Rigby felt his bones literally chilling. "Why are you here?"
"Uh..." Rigby couldn't figure that out for himself. "Skips... sent me up here."
Benson didn't question him further, as he usually would have, and stayed fixated on the photo.
Or rather, a particular section of the photo.
After winning a professional trolley race against a squirrel... It wasn't as interesting as it sounded... Pops just had to get everyone in a picture. They all protested whilst gathering around in a pose. However, through the years those pictures had gotten less awkward and more like embarrassing family portraits.
But then, Rigby noticed a heavy shift in the whole "family vibe" when it came to his bro and his boss. Mordecai, in a moment of pure bliss, reached an arm around Benson's shoulders and held the other close.
Now it wasn't a big makeout session, but Rigby wasn't as stupid as people thought he was. He could pick up on subtleties like any other grown man his age.
"Damn thing... Damn thing flew off my desk when I opened the window," Benson said, not even bothering with the fake laugh.
Rigby didn't point out that none of the windows were open. Or the fact that Benson's desk was too far away and too heavy for a normal gust off wind to do such a thing. Though it did look like a hurricane went through the room.
"You must be in Heaven right now," said Rigby, nervously laughing. "All the 'shenanigans' that went on here will be cut in half, now that Mordecai's gone."
Benson's head snapped up to look at Rigby. His eyes were redder than ever, and looked puffy and damp. He crumpled up the picture and threw it in a trash bin next to his desk.
"Get out of my office and... I don't know. Go play video games."
Benson got on his knees to pick up larger pieces of broken glass.
Rigby blinked a few times, taken aback.
"Are you sure you're okay? You look like shit," Rigby said.
Suddenly, the larger bits of glass slipped from Benson's hands and he looked at Rigby with such... defeat.
"Leave me alone. Please."
It actually sounded like Benson was pleading. Benson was pleading Rigby to go away, rather than yelling at him or threatening to fire him.
Rigby nodded in an understanding way, and turned on his heel to leave Benson's office. He paused when he placed a paw on the door knob.
"He isn't much happier either," Rigby said to Benson. "I'm sure... I'm positive he'll realize that he fucked up."
Benson pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.
"Please just go."
"Meanwhile," Mordecai continued, "I was at the Coffee Shop."
"Is this the part where you persuade me not to have you arrested?" Maellard asked in a bored tone.
"Honestly? I friggin' hope so."
Mordecai sat alone at him and Rigby's usual spot, sketching something that happened to pop into his head. Margaret glided over to him and set Mordecai's coffee down in silence.
Mordecai looked up at her, and her disappointed face, then huffed.
"What is it, Margaret?"
"I just don't get why you had to break up with Benson!" Margaret loudly complained.
Mordecai angrily shushed her. "A little louder, Margaret, the people across the street didn't hear you!"
Margaret sat down in a stool facing Mordecai. She was frowning, and Mordecai could tell she was upset with him, but at the same time she still held on to her general softness.
"I'm sorry, alright? But I care about you. And so I have to technically care about... You know who... Too." Margaret shrugged.
Mordecai turned his sketch upside to get a better angle. Then he erased a few lines and redrew them.
"He's not a part of my life anymore, so technically, no you don't."
"It doesn't work that way, Mordecai. I mean, we-" Margaret gestured between the two of them, "don't date anymore, and I see you more than Rigby!"
"Because Rigby's a bad boyfriend," Mordecai scoffed.
"Because I still care about you! Stupid! And I'm not even in love with you anymore. I can only imagine how much you care for... 'He Who Must Not Be Named' ... While you're still-"
"I'm gonna stop you there," said Mordecai, holding up his hands. "Me and... him... were never more than that."
Margaret stared fiery daggers at the blue jay.
"You are so lying and you know it. Remember when you guys first kissed? Remember? Who was the first person to know?"
Mordecai rolled his eyes and rubbed a part of his sketch to create a smudged effect. He sighed, "You were. But that was on accident."
"Remember how frightened you were? How excited and dizzy and happy? You were reciting lines from the Symposium, for Christ's sake! Mordecai," Margaret sadly smiled. "Mordecai. You were in love."
"Keyword being 'were'," Mordecai mumbled.
He made a few final strokes, and then held it up to Margaret.
A cat pawed at a little toy bird that strongly resembled Mordecai. The feline had soft, smoky features that made it a little too mature to be cute, but Margaret felt like swooning anyway.
She studied it for a moment longer, then knowingly grinned.
"It's a French tabby cat. What compelled you to draw that?"
Mordecai looked at his sketch himself, then at Margaret, then back at the sketch again.
"I'm not sure. Pulse wanted a sample of what I could do. So... This came to mind."
"Isn't that Benson's favorite breed of cat?"
"I wouldn't be sure," said Mordecai, irritated.
"Oh my God you're still in love with him!" Margaret shouted and stood up from her stool. Mordecai stood up to sit her back down and shush her harshly again.
He scolded Margaret, giving a dirty look, "Seriously? What part of 'Don't out me to strangers' don't you get?"
Margaret clucked her tongue and shook her head.
"I don't care what that dad of yours says! And you shouldn't either! You were happy with-" Margaret lowered her voice to a whisper, "Benson, and while you worked at the park, you're already more successful than most people. Including your dad."
Mordecai flipped his sketch over. Why was everyone fighting him on this? He couldn't undo what he did, Benson was in the past, so why were they trying to push him backward?
"You can't pay the bills by being happy, Margaret," Mordecai told her.
She put a hand up, "I agree. And as someone living pay check to pay check, I'd normally applaud any legal and/or semi-legal method to get those dead presidents. But can I ask you a question?"
Mordecai took a sip of his coffee. It was getting cold. He made an awkward face at the change of temperature in his beverage and nodded, "Yeah. Shoot."
"If you didn't feel you had to choose would you be with him right now?" questioned Margaret, resting her head on her hand and staring intently into Mordecai's eyes.
"What do you mean 'choose'? Between what and what?"
"Between... You know who and living up to your potential, or whatever bullshit your dad brainwashed you with."
"Well... If there was a way to have both... I guess I'd try to make it happen. But I can't have both, Margaret. That's why I'm here in the first place."
"Right. That's why your here. Drinking cold coffee and drawing pictures of your ex-lover's favorite kind of cat."
Mordecai stared blankly at Margaret. Margaret, not being the kind of girl to get intimidated easily, stared right on back. Eventually, Mordecai pushed the coffee towards Margaret.
"Speaking of which, could you please give me another?"
Margaret stood up, picked up the mug and narrowed her eyes at him.
"I'm going to get you another cup, then I'm going into the back to call Rigby, who is apparently promoted to the smarter one out of you both," Mordecai rolled his eyes. Margaret continued, "before I go, promise me you'll think about something."
"Sure, Margaret," Mordecai said exasperatedly. "What is it this time?"
And then, Margaret just looked pissed at Mordecai for even daring to exist.
"You saw that between moving on from your mother's death and being there for you, and being a 'success', your dad chose success, right?"
"Right," Mordecai said. He added, sounding one part bitter and another part admiring, "He's the highest ranked professor in his field."
"And who does he go home to at the end of the day?"
Mordecai opened his mouth to answer, but stopped himself when he realized he had no answer.
Margaret kept eye contact with Mordecai for a bit longer, then went off to get his coffee.
Keeping his promise, Mordecai thought about it.
Benson furrowed his eyebrows. "You told Margaret about us before you told Rigby?"
"It was an accident!" Mordecai persisted. "She heard me talking to you over the phone. She wouldn't believe any of the usual lies."
Maellard coughed especially loud, and the other two men gave him their full attention.
"Gentlemen, it has been two hours and I'm quite sure I want Beanstalk fired and you locked up in the smallest cell imaginable."
"Mr. Maellard sir, I've saved the best for last."
Mordecai sent an encouraging smile to his gumball machine boyfriend. Benson frowned.
After leaving the Coffee Shop, Mordecai stood underneath a street lamp and watched the falling snowflakes.
Three days from now, it was going to be Christmas.
When was the last Christmas he had with his mother?... Mordecai closed his eyes so he could remember... It didn't snow that year... And his father had taken the week off. They had made cookies... No. The cookies burned and his mother had run down to the store and bought chocolate chip ones and Mountain Dew.
Mordecai was sure there were pieces of that memory missing.
He was sure the image he was getting of his father, an uptight yet easy-going writer who occasionally lectured at colleges, never really existed. If it did, what the hell happened?
The snow was coming down a little heavier. Mordecai decided to walk around and keep thinking about his father, per Margaret's request.
Who did he go home to? Well how was Mordecai supposed to know? After his mother died he hauled ass out of his childhood home, went to study art, moved to the city... Started working at the park... Met Pops, Skips, Muscle Man... Benson...
Mordecai had no idea what his father did or who he talked to between then and now. Probably because he didn't want to know, because Mordecai didn't care.
The snow froze his feet to the bone as he strolled along the sidewalk. Mordecai unknowingly started to stare up at the sky as he moved. Passersby gave him curious looks but otherwise left him alone.
Was his father ever in a situation like his? Mordecai knew the man wasn't some robot. Malachi loved his wife... Mordecai was sure Malachi loved him probably... Did he choose them over college in San Francisco? Or did Malachi make his choice when he started teaching full time?
Before he knew what he was doing, Mordecai was taking his cellphone out of his coat pocket and dialing his father's number. He was surprised he remembered it.
After the sound of rustling and someone clearing their throat, Malachi answered.
"Mordecai?"
Mordecai laughed out of nervousness, "Dad, hey."
A pause. The pause is uncomfortable and Mordecai can imagine his father tapping his foot in aggravation.
"Something I can do for you son?"
"No, Dad. Actually-"
"Then why are you calling me? "
Mordecai cringed. "I just wanted to say hello. I can't say hello?"
Another pause. Right now, Malachi was probably checking his watch, counting the minutes until the conversation was over.
"Seriously son. What do you need?"
"Well... Dad... I keep thinking about the last time we talked-"
"Responsibility. Living up to your potential."
"Right," Mordecai saw a bench and headed over to sit on it. "and today I had a conversation with... a friend and she just had me thinking about my... situation."
"You're in a situation? What situation?"
"Me quitting my grounds keeper job, Dad."
Malachi sighed, satisfied, "Best decision you made in years."
"Um, my friend... She asked me if... You know, if it were possible to have it all?" Again, there was a pause. "Could I live up to my potential and... be happy at the park?"
"I don't... What are you suggesting, Mordecai? That a place like that can actually help you?"
"But, I just..." Mordecai softly hit his forehead with his fist. Why was this so hard to ask? "Back... back after Mom... passed and you had the choice of staying home with me or taking the professor position... why did you choose the way you chose?"
Silence. Again with the goddamn silence. It was Mordecai was having a conversation with himself.
"Your question to me is... why did I go out and teach... at one of the most prestigious universities mind you... provide you with a fine education and a warm bed and food on the table every night... instead of staying home like a housewife?"
"And I'm grateful for that. Everyday, I'm grateful for that, Dad. Thank you. But would it have been possible to do both? Spend time with me while you taught off and on?"
"... And keeping up with your hyperactivity along with that raccoon pal of yours? And dodging those asshole bill collectors? And even though I had made it very clear any contract she signed was automatically null and void, still paying off your mother's debt five years after..."
Mordecai jumped from the noise of Malachi slamming down the phone. If he concentrated, Mordecai could hear his father breathing in and out unevenly, as if he was hit with every and all emotions in the world at once and he couldn't let his son hear him trying to get a grip.
Mordecai hesitantly spoke, not even sure his dad would hear, "I... Dad... I'm so-"
"You want to know how to screw up? A sure fire way?"
"Um, Dad," Mordecai gripped his cellphone tighter.
"Fall in love with the temporary. You see a dream or a goal or a person and they make you happy, so happy you think they're forever. But then they fade away. Then you remember. Then you're left with unpaid bills, and social workers, and a son who looks at you like a stranger, and a cold empty bed for all your troubles."
Mordecai didn't respond at first.
How long has he been on that bench? It felt too long.
"Later... We'll continue this conversation, and... I have something to tell you... later."
"So much potential..." Malachi said, almost like a he was under a spell. "So much goddamn potential... Just like I had..."
Mordecai's eyes widened in alarm.
"Dad... I have to go."
"For your sake, I'm just gonna skip the dramatic running through the snow and how much of a fool I was and blah, blah, blah..." Mordecai told Maellard.
Maellard nodded, "Greatly appreciated."
Mordecai knocked on the door again, frantically. Wasn't anybody home?
"Hello? Open the hell up! Benson? Rigby?"
The door shook with every hit of his fist. Mordecai just felt this surge of energy and enlightenment and for the first time in three weeks he was thinking and seeing clearly. He never thought he'd say it, but Mordecai had to admit he was a total douchebag.
But not anymore. He'd changed that. Or at least he could if someone would had opened the goddamn door!
"Who is it?" a gruff, worn voice implored.
Probably Skips, Mordecai thought.
"Skips!" Mordecai shouted, "Skips, it's me Mordecai!"
"Mordecai?" Skips quizzically said. "Hold on a sec."
Mordecai could hear the skipping footsteps approach the door, and when Skips finally opened up he zoomed past the white yeti and flew up the stairs.
"Benson!" Mordecai screamed, unable to help the smile spreading across his face. He flung open Benson's office door and stopped at the doorway. "Benson! I-"
The room was empty. Benson's desk was there, and his other crap was there, but Benson himself was absent.
"Mordo! Bro!" Rigby called from the end of the hallway. "Mags told me you'd be stoppin' by... What's with the huffing and puffing?"
"Rigby!" Mordecai ran to Rigby and picked him up by the sides.
"Whoa! What the hell, man?"
Rigby stiffened at Mordecai's sudden action. Margaret did warn him that Mordecai was acting especially weird this morning.
"Where is Benson?"
Rigby squirmed in Mordecai's grasp. "What? Put me down!"
Skips climbed up the steps, and when he saw Mordecai with Rigby in his grasp he exasperatedly told him, "You can't just come in here without permission. You don't work here anymore, Mordecai. Now put Rigby down you're scaring him."
"Skips!" Rigby reached his hands out to Skips. "Mordecai's gone batshit!"
Mordecai put Rigby down and pointed to Benson's office.
"Benson!"
"What?" Skips asked with a confused expression.
"Benson! Benson! Where's Benson?"
"Dude he's not here," said Rigby.
Skips and Rigby were beginning to stare at him funny. They didn't get it. Mordecai just... He had to find Benson, and then everything could be handled from there.
Muscle Man and High Five Ghost rushed upstairs, getting ready to throw some punches if need be. Their eyes laid on Mordecai and they settled themselves... Somewhat.
Muscle Man asked Skips, indignantly, "What's he doing here?"
"Do either of you guys know where Benson is? I really need to talk to him." explained Mordecai.
Skips, Muscle Man and High Fives stared at Mordecai until it became painfully clear that they weren't staring at all. They were trying to burn him alive telepathically.
It was then Mordecai realized he didn't leave the park on a high note.
"Benson and Pops stepped out," High Fives told Mordecai, "but I'm not sure we should tell you where."
Mordecai felt stuck. Not three weeks ago, he considered everyone of them friends. More than friends even. Family. And Benson of course more than family, but at that particular moment, his tight-knit group of bros looked about ready to bust his head open.
"Guys. You have no idea how much I regret leaving the way I did. It was fucked up-"
"Beyond fucked up." Muscle Man said coldly.
Mordecai corrected himself, "Beyond fucked up. But what's even more fucked up is why I left in the first place. I felt... I felt like a loser. And my asshole dad had me thinking working here was holding me back. And like a dumbass I listened to him."
Skips eased up in body language; his stance became less defensive and he seemed to be listening to Mordecai's words.
Rigby gasped, "I knew it! I knew it was because of him! I knew you wouldn't just bail, dude."
Mordecai "hmm-hmm"ed. "Thanks dude. I'm sorry things went down. And I swear on my right hand that I'll never abandon you guys like that again. You guys and this job were the only things keeping me from turning into my dad. I had good times here... and love."
"I don't see how you and Margaret play into this," Skips interjected.
Mordecai almost chuckled to himself, but thought it was inappropriate in that moment and time.
High Fives added, "And why do you need to find Benson so bad? You're the last person he wants to see, you know. He'd probably rip out your feathers."
Mordecai's shoulders visibly sank. It was subtle enough for everyone to dismiss as general disappointment. Rigby knew better.
"Did... he ever say aloud why I pissed him off?" asked Mordecai, anxious.
"It could be 'cause you left him swamped at our busiest season without notice," Muscle Man said, still ready to kick Mordecai's ass.
"Or," Rigby said glaring at the other three, "he's acting like a baby, like you three turds. Come on, guys! It's Mordecai! Mor-de-cai. And I've met his dad. He's one intimidating son of a bitch. Cut him some damn slack!"
Skips, High Five Ghost and Muscle Man gave Mordecai sideway glances.
"Please guys. I really need to talk to Benson."
They knowingly looked between themselves. After they nodded to each other a total of three times each, Muscle Man cracked his knuckles, cracked his neck, walked up to Mordecai and socked him in the gut.
Mordecai went down clutching his stomach, gasping for air, and Muscle Man smiled down on him.
"Forgiven, bro."
"Thanks" is what Mordecai meant to say, but because his stomach had been physically assaulted, it came out like "Dahngsss!"
Skips pulled some golf cart keys from his pocket. "Benson and Pops went to the MegaMart to pick up rock salt. I'll drive you there."
Mr. Maellard raised his eyebrow ever so slightly, and both Benson and Mordecai had miniature heart attacks. Was that the killing gesture for them both? A simple raise of an eyebrow?
The golf cart screeched as it stopped right out front of the MegaMart's double automatic doors. Skips, Rigby and Mordecai observed the building before them, unsure of how things would go down.
"Why exactly do you have to tell Benson this information now?" Rigby asked.
"I just do," said Mordecai simply, hopping out of the cart and running into the store.
Rigby went to follow his friend, but Skips held out a hand and silently shook his head. "Mordecai's gotta be on his own for this one."
Rigby pouted, "But then I won't know what he said to Benson!"
"That's the point, Rigby."
Mordecai felt bad for rudely pushing past the sweet grandma looking official greeter, but manners be damned. He had to find Benson. He had to find Benson and tell him he was right, and that he chooses both, and that maybe Oren wasn't that bad-
"For the record," Mordecai said, bitterly, "Oren is that bad. I'll stop interrupting now."
Benson gave Mordecai a dirty look.
Mordecai just had to find Benson and tell him that... Shit. Where was the outdoor section again?
He was in the middle of the bedroom decor section, next to a plum color coordinated which indicated he was a little off... Mordecai looked above him and the aisle sign didn't say "Outdoors", but rather "Home and Garden" and it was... aisle eighteen... What aisle was this?... aisle four. Crap.
Mordecai meekly passed a mother and her two daughters and ran down the middle of store, calling out Benson's and Pops' names... Aisle five, six, seven, eight... Mordecai paused when he thought he heard nasally yelling, but it was just the mother from before scolding her daughters.
Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen... Mordecai bumped into people and knocked over a cardboard stand-up of that new romantic comedy. The kind that probably had some poor idiot literally running after the love interest to relay an anguished love confession...
Mordecai stopped running. Appreciating the hypocrisy, he gave a little laugh, then continued his sprint.
Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen... Mordecai called out, "Benson! Benson and Pops!"
He put his hands on his knees and struggled to catch his breath. Looking at the floor beneath him, Mordecai saw that his feet were surrounded by snuggly pink material.
Mordecai stood regularly, and studied the space around him, and realized he was in the maternity section. For women expecting little girls, specifically.
"Oh..." Mordecai fell to the pink shag rug. "Fuck me..."
Pregnant women and their husbands looked Mordecai up and down and slowly vacated the area he was. They had heard over the speakers a crazy blue jay was running around and got away when they could.
Besides the pink shag, the pink cribs and beanbags, and the pile of girly-colored toys, Mordecai was alone.
But from the pile of animals that came in purples and pinks and fuchsias, a familiar giggling filled the air.
Mordecai got up and slowly approached the pile of giggling plushies.
"Peek a boo, stranger!" an even more familiar voice exclaimed.
"Pops?" said Mordecai as he poked at the toys.
The pile exploded left and right, and revealed a particularly giggly Pops. But Pops became downright elated when he saw the stranger was no stranger at all.
"Oh~! Mordecai! Good show! Jolly good show!" Pops leapt towards Mordecai and took him in his frail yet latching arms. "We've missed you!"
"It's good to see you too, Pops! Pops..." Mordecai laughed, but the moment was sort of ruined when he couldn't really breathe. "Pops... can't... breathe..."
Pops immediately let Mordecai go and smiled embarrassed. "I do apologize."
Mordecai gulped, "It's fine, really. Where's Benson?"
"Benson?"
"Yeah! He's here with you right?"
"Oh, yes of course! He's getting rock salt."
Mordecai nodded, "Yes, I know that Pops. Is he still in that general area?"
"Hmm..." Pops tapped his chin, "no..."
"Then where is he Pops?" Mordecai grabbed onto Pops' shoulders. "Did he say he'd be anywhere else today?"
"Ah! Yes! He said he'd be in the outdoor section first, then appliances because Rigby broke the microwave again... then finally the hardware section to get started on that shed."
Mordecai took a deep breath.
"Okay! Thanks Pops!" he said, and he was running again, until Pops called out to him.
"Woo-hoo~! Mordecai! Woo-hoo~!"
Mordecai walked backwards quickly and began to show he was getting antsy. "What Pops? What is it? What is it?"
"I'm not entirely sure if it's called the 'outdoor section' or the 'home and garden' section. On one hand, isn't the garden outdoors? But on the other hand, which is just as important as the aforementioned one hand, the home is by no means a place for a garden. Well, if you don't include an indoor shrub or a hanging plant. Which-"
"Pops!" Mordecai shouted, resisting the urge to use very unhappy words, "Benson's future as well as mine sort of depends on me finding him and talking to him. Do you know where he is or not?"
Pops laughed, "No need to get snippy, my good man, he's right behind you!"
Mordecai whipped around from the lollipop man and saw Benson standing there with a shopping cart. He looked like he had been told horrible news, and was paralyzed from the shock.
Benson stared dead at Mordecai. He didn't look angry... But he didn't look happy either. It frightened Mordecai; not knowing what Benson was thinking at that moment.
"'What the hell is this bastard doing here?'," said Benson, "and 'Where's a shovel when you need it?'"
Mordecai looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry, Ben."
"It's okay," Benson said, quickly smiling at Mordecai then making his mouth go straight as an arrow.
"Ben. Benson," Mordecai said.
He made his way towards Benson, like he was a deer ready to bound off at the slightest movement.
Benson then pushed the shopping cart into Mordecai and ran off.
"Oh my!" Pops exclaimed, covering his mouth with both hands.
Mordecai recovered from the surprise attack and went after him, yelling Benson's name.
For a gumball machine smoker in his thirties with thin arms, Benson ran like a goddamn beast. He dodged in and out of aisles and slipped through the other shoppers like he was some sort of assassin. Mordecai was tired out, but relentless in his pursuit.
It was only by recognizing Benson's bright yellow coat and black that Mordecai didn't lose Benson in the sea of people whose missions seemed to keep Mordecai and Benson separated.
Luckily, Mordecai didn't have to run anymore, because Benson had trapped himself between shoppers coming from the right and left.
Mordecai stood in front of him, once again with the huffing and puffing, and pointed a finger to tell Benson to wait until Mordecai could breathe again. Benson stood with his back against the canned goods, looking wildly around for an escape.
"Please... don't... let... him... go..." Mordecai wheezed out to the two shoppers. Then he said, directly to Benson, "You... run... fast!..."
Benson closed his eyes and spat out, "I said I never wanted to see you again!"
"I just needed to... I just need... God, I need some water!..." Mordecai rubbed his throat. "Ben I just needed to talk-"
"You don't get to call me that!" Benson shouted, opening his eyes.
Mordecai preferred them closed. Then he wouldn't be able to see the pure... hatred.
Mordecai stepped closer to Benson. "Call you what, Ben?"
"'Ben'! You don't get to call me that. You don't say the things that you said and remain allowed to call me that. And get away from me!"
"I'm sorry!" Mordecai stepped back. "I'm sorry, force of habit. What would you like me to call you?"
Benson threw his head back and let out a frustrated growl, "Nothing! Call me nothing. You're nothing to me anymore and I obviously don't mean anything to you, so let's just pretend we don't exist!"
"Oh, harsh..." The curly haired man on the right side of Benson commented.
"I don't need any commentary, thank you," Mordecai shot an irritated look at the curly haired man. He kept his distance from Benson, but continued to speak. "Okay... 'Nothing'... I need to talk to you. And tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry, for so much Be... Nothing."
"Aw. Sorry for what dear?" The mom-ish looking woman on Benson's left swooned.
Mordecai rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry for letting my dad decide my feelings for you. And making it seem that you were the one holding me back when it was really him. And treating you like a luxury."
Benson had resorted to looking down at his feet, which were in black winter boots that were too big for him.
"Luxury?" The curly haired man questioned.
Mordecai said to the man, "I guess I assumed I didn't need him." He paused, then directed his words to Benson. "I guess I assumed I didn't need you. Like, I could leave, and it would suck, but I'd get over it. Except the 'getting over it' part never happened."
The mom-ish woman put a hand to her heart, "Sweetie, are you sure you want to display all of these personal feelings in a MegaMart?"
"Fuck you!" Benson shouted, stepping away from the wall of cans. "You think you can just... Chase me down, spout some generic apology bullshit and be the hero? You fucking screwed me over!"
"I know, B... Nothing, and I want to make it right," Mordecai put up his hands defensively.
Benson shook his head and laughed humorlessly. "You don't get it, do you?" Mordecai looked at the woman and the man, and they frowned in confusion. No answers there.
"I guess I don't... Explain it to me?"
Benson shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. He stared straight at Mordecai. Mordecai saw the cogs in his head moving, and pretty much knew he was not going to like Benson's words.
"This isn't about you quitting," said Benson with less volume but the same amount of anger. "it's the fact that I... I told you things. Deep and dark and personal things that make me happy. Things that make me sad and terrify me. I shared things with you that I swore I would take to the grave... And when your dad told you that I didn't matter you just... Believed him! Like he was telling you the time!"
"I never believed him!"
"Really? Three weeks of me alone in my apartment begs to fucking differ." Benson was beginning to shake from the emotion coming out of him. "But you know what? It's okay. Because I'm treating it as a learning experience, remember? I've learned, that when you trust people, they fuck you over," Benson snapped his fingers, "No, correction. They fuck you! Then they fuck you over!"
The woman blushed. "I've never heard so many f-bombs in my life. And I'm from New York!"
Mordecai looked at Benson with sullen eyes.
"Please don't say you think that because of me."
"I've always thought that. You just," Benson shrugged, "confirmed my hypothesis. Thanks for that, by the way."
"If I knew what I know now... I would have slammed the door in my dad's face that day. I would have-" Mordecai tried to think, "I would have realized all of that shit you were telling was so very personal to you. But I didn't. Because I'm an idiot."
"Yes," Benson said plainly. "Yes you are."
There was nothing else to say. Mordecai never felt so disgusted in himself. The two shoppers sensed the scene was over, and began to move so Benson could slip through.
"Is there anything I can say or do to undo the damage?" Mordecai asked quietly.
Benson averted Mordecai's gaze.
He cleared his throat and answered, just as quietly, "Unless you have a time machine tucked away in that coat, I'd say we're pretty much finished here."
Benson whispered a thanks to the shoppers but decided to leave by brushing past Mordecai. He was leaving. He couldn't be leaving, this is the part where the hero wins the girl back!... So to speak. Mordecai's mind was racing with words and phrases, none of them his, but all of them witty and important and romantic that would get Benson back.
"This," Mordecai squeaked out.
It was an odd enough sound that Benson, and about twenty other people, turned to look at Mordecai with confused faces.
He tried again.
"This magic moment," Mordecai sang. It was... terrible. His voice was scratchy and off tune. "so different and so new-"
Benson whispered with mortified eyes, "Sweet Christ, no..."
"Was like any other. Until I kissed you," Mordecai continued, "And then it happened-"
Others stopped and stared, wondering what in the world was dying in Mordecai's throat. As he (horribly) sang, Mordecai inched closer and closer to Benson. Benson was too embarrassed to notice.
"It took me by surprise," a man with a distinguished mustache sang.
A bit thrown-off, but not deterred, Mordecai harshly crooned out, "I knew that you felt it too... by the look in your eyes!"
"Please stop," Benson begged.
Three women Mordecai assumed were sisters, all with long black hair and conveniently coming from the music and recreation section, walked up to investigate what was going on. Realizing Mordecai was singing to Benson, they offered up their services and stood behind him while they played to the tune.
"Sweeter than wine," Mordecai sang.
"Sweeter than wine," Distinguished Mustache Dude echoed. He gestured for more people to gather around, much to Benson's chagrin.
The curly haired man and mom-ish woman shoppers from before sang as a well, with the woman echoing the man, "Softer than a summer night!"
The first musician sister sweetly sang, "Everything I wanna have-"
"Everything, everything," the second and third sister followed.
Mordecai was so close to Benson now.
He said, more than sang, "Whenever I hold you tight..."
Quite a crowd had formed, and if Mordecai had to estimate, ninety percent of the MegaMart shoppers were standing around, swaying to the music. Benson didn't notice them. He was much too busy trembling in front of the blue jay who had cause the entire mess.
Everyone in that area, with shining smiles sang out, "This magic moment!"
Mordecai took Benson's hands, "This magic moment... when your lips are close to mine."
"Will last forever!" the crowd's voice melted together in harmony.
Benson stared up at Mordecai, then down at their intertwined hands.
Mordecai closed his eyes and leaned in, mumbling, "Forever 'til the end of time..."
The crowd fell silent. This was it. The kiss. The moment where all of the struggle and all of the strife dissolved because in this kiss, Benson would know how sorry Mordecai was. And after that, he'd spend forever making it up to him.
But first Benson had to kiss him.
Benson stiffened up at the sudden movement. Mordecai didn't get a knee to the balls, so he continued to go in for the kill. Benson looked at Mordecai's lips, uncertain.
Out of the corner of his eye, Benson saw the mom-ish woman encouragingly smiling at him. The musicians sisters slowed the tempo and lowered the volume while they warmly smiled at Benson too.
Distinguished Mustache Dude gave Benson two thumbs up. The rest of the crowd whispered words of encouragement, grabbing onto each other.
Benson hesitantly moved in, eyes beginning to flicker shut.
Mordecai was so close he was sure Benson's mouth was only millimetres away. He sighed, just before he knew their lips would meet, "I missed you, Be-"
And, expectantly, a surge of hot energy coursed Mordecai's body, causing him to fall to the floor, spasm and twist his face in unflattering ways.
"What on Earth, happened?" Maellard questioned, bewildered. "And why was everyone singing 'This Magic Moment' to Benzedrine? And who the hell is Distinguished Mustache Man?"
Mordecai corrected Maellard, "'Distinguished Mustache Dude', and it turns out he's an editor at Pulse! George Rutherford. Great dude."
"NUHHHH! NUHHHH!" that was the llama like sound Mordecai made as he jerked around on the floor.
Benson immediately dropped to his knees, next to Mordecai and reaching his hands out towards him, "What's wrong? Mordecai what's wrong?"
"Don't touch him!" A police officer with a taser in his hand ran up to the couple. Metal springs went from his taser to Mordecai's back. "He's got enough juice in him to kill a horse!"
Mordecai continued to make the unfortunate noises while he flopped around like a fish.
The crowd gasped and made pained faces, very happy it wasn't them on the floor lke that.
"Dude. Is he even alive anymore?" said Distinguished Mustache Dude as he tilted his head.
The cop stopped pressing the tazer trigger. He looked down at Mordecai whilst shaking his head. "This guy's been running around here looking for some hot new drug called 'binzin'... He probably doesn't feel any of this, an account of being so high."
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Benson angrily shouted at the officer and pushed him away. He touched the now twitching but overall still Mordecai. "Mordecai, say something!" He wiped some sweat from Mordecai's forehead. "Say something..."
"The last thing I saw before I black out was Benson looking over me. After what was apparently two hours, I woke up in a chair."
Mordecai slowly awoke to a bright light in the distance. The more he woke up, the more he recognized the heavenly light as a hanging lamp. He tried to bring his right hand up to shield his eyes, but it was caught on something. His arm was handcuffed to the chair he had been sat in.
He heard a ringing off in the distance. Turning his head, Mordecai saw that behind him was a small office. He looked around a little more, specifically a door across the tiny room, which said "MegaMart Security". He loosened his dark blue scarf; it felt tight around his neck.
Then he remembered, and the mystery of why his back hurt wasn't such a mystery.
"For mall cops," Benson said to Mordecai, "they're pretty damn aggressive."
Benson sat next to him, resting his right foot on his left knee and pointed to his own handcuffed left arm. He wasn't pissed off like before, at least not at Mordecai.
Mordecai rubbed his back with his free arm and responded, "You're telling me."
Benson nodded. "Dumb bastard got in the way of my fist. Four times."
"I'm sure that's exactly what happened," Mordecai said, not being able to laugh for some reason.
Nothing else was said. Benson caught eyes with Mordecai, and studied them as if he were trying to find something important.
The pauses and the silences that kept sneaking up in every conversation he had that day was beginning to grind on Mordecai's usually slow temper. Why wasn't he saying anything? If he wasn't going to state the obvious, Mordecai wasn't afraid to do so.
"Listen, I-"
Benson raised a hand, "Stop. Please, just... You and an entire mall sang the corniest love song to me. I think I deserve to speak now."
"I'm sorry." Mordecai blurted out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"You probably are," Benson put both feet on the ground. "And I appreciate that. So much. But I can't just pick up where I left with you. I can't pretend none of this ever happened."
Mordecai furrowed his eyebrows and asked, "The abandonment or the singing?"
"I'm serious, Mordecai. I look at you, and you seem genuine, but... I don't trust you anymore. And that's kind of a big deal breaker for me."
"I don't expect your trust to instantly be restored!" Mordecai said facing his body towards Benson. "It disappeared when I bailed. I understand that."
Benson lifted his right hand, "Good! So we can stop this. We can stop being angry at each other and wishing we could gauge each other's eyes out or hold the other underwater until the bubbles stop coming up-"
"I'm sure those murder fantasizes were all your territory," Mordecai said, unsettled.
"We can move on, and live our separate lives. And this whole... thing, can be an unhappy memory."
Benson gave Mordecai a sad half smile. Mordecai tried to reach out his right hand to touch Benson, and once again the handcuffs "clinked" in denial. He put his hands in his lap..
"I know I'm in no position to tell you what I want. But I don't want to be a stranger to you. I don't want to be a friend to you."
Benson huffed, "I really don't want to talk about this anymore." He tried to turn away, but his left arm handcuffed to the chair forced him to face Mordecai.
"I... I may not have a time machine," Mordecai continued when he realized Benson couldn't turn away, "but I saw a future without. And despite being highly respected at what I did, I was shit." Benson frowned, but it was out of curiosity. "I was so angry, Benson. I was pissed off at myself for not choosing you. And I every night, I'd come home to bills and a mortgage and a cold, lonely bed."
"Your future sounds like my present," Benson laughed bitterly.
"No one should be allowed to experience that. Everyone should have someone to go home to."
A different cop came into the room holding a folder. He pointed to them as he walked to the smaller office behind them. "Blue jay! You're clean. Give us a sec to run a final screen then you can go."
Benson asked, "What about me?"
"Hey," the cop whistled to Mordecai, "you thinking of filing for police brutality?"
Mordecai glanced confusedly to Benson, then answered unsurely to the cop, "No...?"
"Then you can leave too. Give me a second," the cop went into the smaller office.
After the door shut, Mordecai looked over at Benson. "I'd really like to talk about this with you in private."
With the same shining eyes he had when Mordecai quit, Benson seethed, "We don't have a private anymore. That went away with the trust. You gave all that up for the 'something better', remember?"
Is this what Benson looked like when he was about to cry?
Mordecai said, desperately, "That's what you're not getting! You're my 'something better'! I know this now!"
Benson was wringing his hands and biting down on his tongue. Signs Mordecai learned that indicated Benson was debating with himself internally. He couldn't blame Benson if he kicked him to the curb. He deserved it. But wasn't there a little spark left? Maybe not trust, not anymore, but love?
"And you think it's going to be that easy? Come in, sing a love song, and you're home free?"
"No. I just want a chance."
"I don't forgive you," Benson choked out. "I may never forgive you. I don't want to forgive you."
Mordecai said slowly, feeling himself choke up too, "I fucking had it coming. And I never said I wanted you to go easy on me. I just wanted the smallest sliver of a chance. I swear that's all I need."
The smaller office door opened up. The cop went to Mordecai's right side and took the handcuffs off. He went to Benson's left and freed him as well. "You two are free to go... and your three month bans start now. Have a 'mega' nice day."
The cop left them for the final time.
Mordecai and Benson remained seated. They continued to stare into each other's eyes. An emotional Mexican stand-off, or sorts. Benson could pull the trigger anytime; it wouldn't be hard.
Hopefully Mordecai's sincerity would get to him.
"I shouldn't give you anything," Benson said. He was trying so hard to keep the tears from falling.
Mordecai nodded his head. He understood.
"It's okay. You have every right not to," said Mordecai. He sadly smiled, because he meant it. At least he could say he tried.
"I know," Benson said, taking in a shaky breath, "and I shouldn't... but I'm going to anyway."
Mordecai saw a single tear slip down Benson's face. For a moment he had thought that he misheard Benson; that Benson totally rejected him and Mordecai's mind was filling in what he wanted to hear. He was almost afraid to smile; it all seemed too perfect.
"Yeah?"
Benson's tears were flowing now, but he had a small smile.
"Yeah," he rolled his eyes and corrected himself, "Yes... just one more chance."
And when it was all confirmed for Mordecai, he snatched up Benson in a hug and kissed him all over, and told him again and again how he was so happy, and being tazed was totally worth it, and he was going to love Benson silly; he promised profusely.
"I can't make it go back to the way that it was," Mordecai said wiping a tear away from Benson's face, "but I swear on my everything I'll make you happy."
Benson faltered, not knowing how to respond. Mordecai absorbed the hit. The shattered trust thing... He totally forgot about it in his joy. But Benson wouldn't regret this. Mordecai was going to put in some serious work.
"I hope you're right for both our-" Benson stopped talking mid-sentence, obviously remembering something, then unexpectedly shouted in Mordecai's face, "Holy shit, where's Pops?"
Maellard was still and silent.
Benson put his face in his hands, mumbling to Mordecai, "That was the worst way to end that story..."
"I didn't think he wanted to hear the rest. Have a little more faith, Ben," Mordecai said, getting defensive.
Benson scoffed, "All you did was prove we neglected Pops! That's the opposite of persuasive!"
Mordecai gave Benson a pissy look.
"When the time comes," Mordecai told Benson as if he were a child, "you can tell the story any way you like. 'Till then, this is the version you get. I could have mentioned the part where when we drove home Pops got kidnapped by an atheist cult!" Mordecai waved his hand at Maellard, "Don't worry. Pops wasn't hurt and the story's not as interesting as it sounds."
"You've doomed us!" Benson cried, turning a livid scarlet.
A book came crashing down on Maellard's desk, after he slammed it down, and he glared at the couple.
"I have a few questions," stated Maellard cool as a cucumber. "If you two reconciled at that MegaMart place, why is Bluebird not working here anymore?"
Benson cringed. It was still a sensitive topic for him.
"We talked about it sir and... Mordecai isn't his father."
When Maellard made a face that conveyed he didn't get it, Mordecai explained, "I can have love and friends and work for Pulse. I may not be around all the time, but I'm around."
"Even though you shouldn't be," Maellard scoffed at Mordecai. He rubbed his eyelids. "What does everyone else think of your... relationship?"
"Their fine with it!" Benson answered over-enthusiastically.
"Everybody has been generally supportive," Mordecai said calmly. When Maellard looked away for the briefest second, he mouthed, "Calm down!"
"We're dead!" Benson mouthed back.
When Maellard's gaze fell back on them, Benson and Mordecai exchanged concerned looks. The elder lollipop man didn't ask anymore questions.
The suspense was murder. They had to know.
Benson asked, tentatively, "Sir?... Have you... come to a decision?"
Mordecai nervously laughed, trying to make light of the situation, "I mean, if I'm going to the clink might as well know now, so I can get a head start."
Maellard stood up from his chair and slowly stepped to an open window. A chill crept in. He stayed in that one spot for a moment, clearly enjoying the cold wind.
Who knew what was going on inside his head? Did the entire run-down of Mordecai and Benson's relationship convince him? Or was he just thinking about how many boxes of cigarettes Mordecai would be worth in the slammer.
It wouldn't be much, Mordecai knew this for a fact...
"I've never heard," Maellard said, "such a convoluted, overblown plea for employment. A golden figurine coming to life... Father's disowning their sons... No man would treat his offspring so disgracefully."
Mordecai stared off, thinking of last time he saw his father face to face. Malachi was... He didn't take the whole "in love with a guy" thing well... Like that was a surprise.
"You clearly don't know my dad," said Mordecai.
Maellard spun around from the window. His eyes scanned the both of them. He probably loathed the sight of them.
"And I never will," Maellard said. He went to his desk and took up his cane. "Ben Ten, I want those snack bar profit numbers on my desk by Monday. Bluebird, leave my park before the sun goes down," Maellard moved his short legs to the office door and before he opened it, he snarled, "If I hear you two are putting on sick little displays of affection near my son again, no amount of storytelling will ever save you from the hell I'll put you through!"
When Maellard opened the door, the other park staff fell to his feet. They all stared up at him scared shitless, except for Pops (he seemed more scared that hid father may have hit Benson).
Maellard looked at them distastefully, wondering how such a underachieving group of weasels ended up running his park. Except, though, Pops.
His eyes lingered on Pops for a second. The younger lollipop man felt his heart skip a beat. Had he done something to upset his father?
Maellard's eyes stayed glued to his son. Soon enough, his eyes grew empty and mournful, then snapped back to judgemental when he walked off and out of the house.
Everyone, Skips included, felt a great weight lift off their shoulders when they heard Maellard's limo drive off.
"Benson! Mordecai!" Rigby got up from the dog pile and scampered over to them. "What happened?"
"Don't tell me Mordecai's going to prison," Muscle Man said, concerned for Mordecai. "Do you know how many boxes of-"
Mordecai nodded, a bit disappointed his friends thought him so helpless, "Yes. I do. But it doesn't matter 'cause I'm not going to jail."
"And I'm still your guys' boss," Benson added with a smile.
They all breathed a sigh of relief, and Pops ran up to Mordecai and Benson and enveloped them in a hug.
"Good show~! Jolly good show! And here I thought I had sentenced you both to horrible fates!"
Benson and Mordecai said, simultaneously and literally breathlessly, "Can't... breathe..."
"Oh! My apologies!" Pops set the couple down and smiled warmly at them.
Skips spoke up, smiling ever so subtly, "High Fives couldn't sneak in and listen. What you'd say to change his mind?"
Mordecai opened his mouth to answer, but Benson interrupted him.
"We threatened to sue."
Skips nodded. "Well played."
Mordecai gave Benson a funny look. Benson smiled knowingly, and then switched back into "boss" mode.
"Okay, okay, I'm just as excited that I wasn't shit canned, but you all need to get out of Maellard's office and do your chores!"
Rigby whined, "I'm too hopped up for work! Why don't you tell us what you really told Maellard so we can calm down again?"
"I'm a little curious as well," High Fives shyly admitted.
Benson glared at Rigby and High Fives.
"That falls under 'None of Your Damn Business'. Now go and do your chores or you're all fired!"
Mumbles and grumbles came from Rigby as they staff filtered out. Pops was the last to leave, overjoyed that his father didn't hit anyone.
Then it was just Benson and Mordecai alone in Maellard's office.
Mordecai smiled at Benson. Benson smiled back, and soon enough he was jumping into a hug with Mordecai laughing wildly and holding him close as they spun around.
"Nice save, Mordecai! I mean, some of the things you told him were flat out lies. Like how that Juno figurine came to life. But other than that I'm impressed!"
Mordecai guiltily smiled.
"Thank you, thank you!" Mordecai put Benson down. "I exaggerated here and there, but I kept a lot of the stuff that did happen in there as well." Mordecai's smile faltered slightly, "Like with my dad and all."
Benson's shoulders slowly sank. He gave Mordecai another hug, this time more intimate. Mordecai rested his chin on Benson's head.
"Thank you," Benson said sombrely. "You worried me at first, but I'm so glad I called you."
"All I needed was a chance," Mordecai squeezed Benson. "you give me that I'll always come through for you."
Instead of letting go, they held each other tighter. The day was just that stressful.
"Mordecai?" Benson asked, pulling his head away from Mordecai's chest. Mordecai looked down at Benson expectedly. "Please don't make this into a big deal but... I miss you, sometimes."
Mordecai pulled away from Benson slightly.
"What do you mean? We live together. I see you everyday!"
"I meant," Benson made circular motions, "here. I miss working with you here. It's not the same now."
Benson began wringing his hands again. Mordecai took Benson's hands so he would stop.
"You're right. It's not the same. But we knew this going in."
"But I didn't know how different," Benson said, remorseful.
Mordecai nodded. What could he do? He couldn't make things go back to the way they were. As much as he loved it, he loved this version of his life more. Even if it was a little hard to adapt to sometimes.
He held onto Benson's hands. "Remember when I took you to that art gallery? And there was that piece that was weird looking and looked like it had been broken and put back together again? And you said it was ugly at first but after making you stare at it for awhile you admitted it looked kinda nice? Then we ended up buying it?"
"Yeah," Benson replied, puzzled.
Mordecai gently moved along, with Benson holding onto his wing.
"Well I don't think we're like that piece anymore. We were broken, but now that we're fixed you van't really tell we ever split. Granted, we know better... But and the end of the day we don't notice, like everyone esle doesn't. Plus, we've already been though the worst. What's left to go through?"
Benson intentionally bumped into Mordecai's side.
"Knowing our luck? We'll probably be arrested and you'll have to tell that story again."
Mordecai bumped Benson back.
"Or you could tell the story of how I proposed to you tonight."
It took great will on Mordecai's part not to laugh at Benson's reaction. In the middle of the hallway, Benson stopped walking and shut his mouth.
He had actually found a way to shut Benson up. Priceless!
Benson's eyes shone, unbelieving. "You're... You're lying."
It was always fun for Mordecai to find new ways to upset and fluster Benson. He'd have to stop that soon. He's pretty sure divorce laws call that "fraud". Or was it "emotional stress"? Didn't matter, Mordecai supposed.
"That is one of the parts of our story," Mordecai whispered as he pulled Benson gently along, "that I wouldn't ever exaggerate."
