Manitoba woke up in mike's bed and started to head toward the kitchen. He smelled something tasty as his stomach growled. He walked in on mike's mom stirring soup, "G'day sheila, dinner's smellin' great!" She was a bit startled, she almost dropped the ladle. "It's awlright, just me." Manitoba said, a bit quieter than before. "Manitoba?!" Mike's mom said in surprise. "Yep" he said, reaching for his favorite fedora by the door on an upper shelf. "Let me help 'ya with that-" she grabbed the fedora and placed it on manitoba's head, he adjusted it of course so that it was more tilted forward, just the way he liked it. Mike's mom giggled at his strict attention to detail, "anyway it's gumbo that's in the pot." "Oh...well then...better serve me up three bowls in that case, I'm mighty hungry." Manitoba stated, rubbing his stomach. "Alright, sit down I'll get the bowls-" "no no, let me." Manitoba started for the cabinet. His mother just watched giggling as she saw manitoba working his strategy; He started pulling drawers, being an 8 year old, light-weighted boy, he knew that the drawers could support him. Manitoba began crawling up on the drawers almost like stepping stones. He got up to the counter and finally got the bowls, he put them under his hat for safe keeping. His mom was just sitting at the table amused at what her 8 year old son can do. Manitoba decided to go down the "fun way", he grabbed on to one of the wings on the moving fan. It flung him toward the table and he landed right on top of it, scaring his mother. "Must you do that…I thought only that russian girl would do something so athletic as launching onto a fan and landing on a table without tumbling." "Svetlana", manitoba said with an annoyed look. He was expressing the face of a stubborn child, making his mother laugh, "whatever…*chuckle*...want some gumbo, I'll set up the rest of the table." Manitoba sat down at the chair on the other side of the table, arms stubbornly crossed, pouting as his mother started getting out spoons and glasses of milk since the gumbo was hot. Manitoba looked at the glass of milk in front of him and slid it away with a cocky grin, "heh, I don't need no glass of milk for something that I bet will only tingle the tongue a bit, I can take it...easy." "Oh, well in that case-" she reached for the cabinet to her right and pulled out a red bottle, she hid the label with her hand to surprise manitoba since he was being a "smart-mouth" to her cooking. Once the gumbo was poured into the bowl, the scent was so spicy that he had to pinch his nose, he got over it and kept the sneer on his face as he took a big spoonful of the gumbo and took one big bite. Manitoba was paused in movement, the heat instantly ran up his entire body as he profusely began to sweat, his face turned bright red. He swallowed and started panting like a worn out dog. "Hot enough for 'ya?...need some milk?" His mother said waving his undrinken full glass. "OK..YOU WERE RIGHT! YOUR GUMBO IS EXTREMELY HOT...NOW PLEASE GIVE ME THE MILK!" Manitoba begged, his mother giggled at her accomplishment and handed manitoba the milk. He quickly ate the 3 bowls that he promised his mother he'd eat and then chugged down 2 tall glasses of milk in under 40 minutes.
It had been a long day but mike's mom had finally mustered up the courage to ask what seemed like a simple question, "so manitoba, where's mike?" Manitoba put down his now empty glass with his tongue out and answered slowly, curious of the response. "He's...sleeping...in here-" manitoba said, pointing at his head. "Where is "here"'? His mother asked, getting slightly worried. "In his room, but don't worry, he's ok. Svetlana's taking care of them-" "what do you mean "them"'? She was almost shaking at what the answer might be, manitoba wasn't quite used to this kind of pressure and eventually gave in, "svetlana is taking care of mike and mal while they're sleeping, b-but they're ok, really, just a little bump on their heads is all." Manitoba said, awkwardly laughing while his mom's mouth had dropped down to the table, "MAL?!" His mother choked. "What's wrong with mal, he's really nice. Hate to admit it but even vito and I had a lot of fun playing Soldier." Manitoba giggled, His mother was not amused, "dammit...now you tell me, is he safe?!" "Of course he's fine, everyone's in the room with them, those two have been tucked in and are sleeping like babies." "You go tell this 'mal'-whatever to get the hell away from my child or so help me god-" his mother angrily said, gripping both of his arms and kneeling down to a face-to-face level, making manitoba quite nervous.