"Hey, Kid, stop! You're going to…crap." The red-haired Death Scythe swore under his breath as he realized that he had spoken far too late, as he saw the young Reaper fly over the handle bars of his bike and careen into the concrete pavement. As part of Lord Death's command to look after Kid, Spirit thought that teaching the pre-pubescent Kid one of the fundamental children's activities would be no problem; His little Maka had figured it out, so no problem, right?
Kid, ever resilient, had made up his mind not to cry, even as his skinned knees continued to bleed. Although Spirit knew he would heal quickly, due to being a Reaper, whether Kid knew that was anyone's guess. "Are you okay? What happened?" asked Spirit. "The handle bars were uneven. You can't ride when they aren't even, everyone knows that," Kid retorted. Spirit Albarn had never heard anything so absurd, he had to look away from the pint-sized reaper to avoid laughing and making the situation worse. He composed himself, looked Kid in the eyes and said "Let's just get you cleaned up, and we can go see your dad, okay?" Kid nodded, and a few bandages later, Kid and Spirit made their way towards the DWMA.
"Oh, Spirit, I wish you would have let me know that you were thinking of doing something like this," Lord Death said with a monotone voice that made Spirit nervous. Suddenly, Spirit's fears were relived as the old Shinigami joyously said to Kid, "Come here, son, I have something for you that'll make this all better!" The young reaper's eyes went wide, with a curious look and an excitement in his voice that numbed the pain, even for just a little bit.
"You mean it?"
"Of course I do. Now, stretch out your hand." His son obliged, and put his hand within reach of his father. With a flick of his wrist, the elder Death conjured up a skateboard for him, embodied by Shinigami magic. "See, when you ride this, you won't have to worry about handlebars anymore! Just maintain your balance, and you'll have a blast."
Kid thought to himself; it's perfect! The skull design on the deck of the board matched his father's mask, and he would get to keep it with him wherever he went,(as the magic allowed Kid to conjure it when he needed it.)
"What's it called, Daddy?"
Lord Death thought for a second, and clapped his hands together and laughed at his own cleverness.
"How about Beelezbub?"
