Gumball's P.O.V.

I straightened. "So, uh... do you want to see the pictures?"

She smiled and nodded, hugging Hambo to her chest. "Yeah!"

I pulled up the holobook, sitting on the edge of my bed. I opened it, and, lo and behold, an image of a five or six year old me, swinging a wooden sword.

'Hyah! Hyah!' The hologram yelled, lashing out at a wooden post.

Marcy put her hand out as it paused, breathing heavily. The smaller me was tiny, even considering it was only a hologram of moi, and his sword was about half the length of his leg, shield held semi-expertly in one hand. He was wearing a carefully-chosen outfit that had taken a full three-quarters of an hour to find; clothes that were casual, yet could be worn for training, with a hint of the frou-frou that enveloped his room, and wardrobe... and the rest of his life in general glimmering around the edges of his outfit. Thanks, Mom...

Marceline's hand passed through the little wooden post, reaching out to the image of me, drawing back quickly as the hologram jumped forward, lunging at the post as if it was an enemy threatening his very life.

"Jeez, vicious, weren't ya?" She peered at the hologram.

I stood up, closing the book and smiling. I shrugged. "I was training."

"Hmm..." She tapped her chin. She then chuckled and took up a combat stance.

"Uh... no." I told her, taking a step back.

"C'mon! You won't hurt me." She nodded encouragingly, eyes narrowed playfully. "You couldn't, little boy."

"I'm not gonna fight you, Marceline." I argued.

She curled her fingers. "Come at me, house mouse."

Marceline's P.O.V.

Well, the combination of house (Housewife, domestic) and mouse (Jerry) worked quite beautifully. Actually, in truth, it worked a little too well, because the second those words left my lips... well, the next thing I knew, there was a vault door being slammed into my face. A vault door that was no longer attached to Gumball's cupboard by thee thick hinges and six slightly-less-thick-but-still-quite-formidable bolts.

I doubled over, clutching my nose. "Aah!" I yelped, trying to stem the flow of blood from my schnoz.

"Oh, my glob!" Gumball gasped, casting away the door as if it weighed no more than a pillow. A pillow filled with lead lining, my aching nose reminded me. He ran over to me, eyes wide. "I am so, so, so sorry, Marceline! Are you okay?!"

"Dude, I think you broke my nose!" I staggered upright, hearing the door thudding down the stairs.

He turned pale. He took an uncertain step forward. "Here, let me-"

"No, no, hang on..." I pressed my hands to either side of my nose and pushed up sharply. There was a crack and a starburst of mild pain before my nose started healing. "It's alright, Gumball. Dragons have healing to rival that of a vampire," I smiled weakly at him.

"I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to do that, I just- I don't know what came over me. I certainly didn't mean to hurt you, though!"

"Gumball, it's okay. I shouldn't have fired you up like that. I'm to blame here. Really, you got pissed and did something you regretted. We all do that at times." I reassured.

"That's no excuse! Neither knights nor princes hit ladies like that!" He said stubbornly.

"Well, I forgive you. I totally, utterly and completely forgive you. Now can we stop this nonsense?"

"But... you should be mad at me or something!"

"You're not gonna let this go until I act mad at you, are you?"

"Well, you should be upset with me. You have a right to be.

"Fine. Grr, I'm mad at you." I said very unconvincingly. I paused half a beat. "Okay, I forgive you. We good now?"

"Uh.. uh..." He blinked, not quite sure what to make of my flippant reaction to his... nobleness, I guess he'd call it? "But, but I... I broke your nose!"

Something suddenly occurred to me. "Gumball..." I said slowly, and he froze.

"Yeah?"

"How heavy would you say that door is?"

"Uh... sixty, seventy pounds?"

"How much do you weigh?"

"About twenty."

"So, you grabbed a door a little under four times your own weight, ripped it away from your cupboard, where it had been attached by three uber thick hinges and a bunch of bolts, brought it forward with enough force to break a half-dragon's nose, then tossed it aside like it was a piece of cardboard in your haste to check on me?"

"Um, that sounds... about right..." He said, clearly beginning to understand the... physical impossibility of what had just happened.

"Dude! Paint an 'S' on your chest and call yourself SuperGum!" I laughed, punching him on the shoulder lightly. "Since when were you this strong?!"

"Uh... well, always, I guess. I was a strong kid. I remember when I was training, and some of the knights were actually really impressed." He looked rather sheepish.

"Why don't you beat the stuff out of Si- I mean, Ice Queen when she grabs you?" Not that I wished it on Simon's sister, Simone, but I was curious.

"It comes and goes." He mumbled. "And I can't exactly ask her for a raincheck until I'm strong again, can I?"

"No, not really," I mused, still slightly shocked that the self-appointed sissy baker of the Candy Kingdom was, in fact, an occasionally super-strong knight. "But, seriously, dude, whoa."

Suddenly, there was a tremendous crash and an armpit-hair-curling scream from downstairs. We looked at each other, our identical expressions that of worry, surprise and mild panic.

"Bonnie!"

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

(Be aware, I'm writing this at 3.30am, so please don't be picky, seeing this is a spur-of-the-minute mini-story!)

Me: Okey-dokey, back in the saddle after a lockdown on all computers in the house for moi, so does anyone else wanna talk to me?

Marshall: *Hiding behind a bush* You're a demonic little psycho, aren't you?

Me: Nah shit, fangs-for-breath. I don't suffer from insanity- my parents do, though! *Bashes on drumkit in lame attempt to do my own comedy club drum-thingo*

Marshall: Where'd that come from? You didn't have it a minute ago.

Me: Blame it on AuthorSpace.

Marshall: Huh?

(Marceline and Gumball walk up)

Marcy: So YOU'RE the one behind all this! *Flares her wings menacingly*

Me: Hey, hey! I WILL do bad things to you! *Brandishing my pen threateningly*

Marcy: Oh, because a) making me look like a semi-psychotic ditz, b) making my brother hate me, c) turning me into a friggin' DRAGON and d) making Bubba here break my nose aren't bad things at ALL. *Slow claps*

Me: *Narrowed eyes* Bring it on. I'm the author. *Tap my temple* Got it memorized?

Marcy: Axel fangirl, huh? Eat flame! *Breathes fire at me*

Gumball: Wait, who's Axel?

Marshall: Dude, Kingdom Hearts 2? Disney?

Gumball: Sorry, I was raised on Warner Brothers.

Marcy: So THAT'S why you never get my references! *Pauses, lets go of my throat and walks up to Gumball* MEEPMEEP! *Takes off*

Gumball: *Holds up sign, reading; 'I walked straight into that, didn't I?'*

Marshall: Where'd you get that?

Gumball: AuthorSpace.

Marshall: What the heck's that?

Me: *Holding dictionary in front of my face* 'AuthorSpace- noun, place in between chapters where items used purely for comedic value are stored. Also where Author's Notes are acted out.'

All three of us (Marshall, Gumball and Me): The more you learn, the more you know!