Trader Godot's was a relatively small, specialized grocery store that carried a large variety of snacks as well as basic foodstuffs. It also cost a bit more credit per item than was typical for the Departed Realm, so generally only the most noble or benevolent would shop there.

"Yeesh, what is this, the old-person store?" Morro asked when we walked through the doors. I glanced around and was surprised to see that he had a point— the majority of the shoppers were around my age, at least.

"I can see why you shop here…" he muttered, grabbing a grocery cart.

"Hey now," I said, "you'd better watch your choice of jokes before I announce to the whole store that I've brought them a new old person."

"But I'm just here with you," he retorted. "I'm not old."

"Oh, please," I said, smiling as we started making our way down the aisles. I was only picking up my usual buys, but Garmadon kept getting distracted by various displays. "You're only a few years younger than me, at most."

"What?!" Morro exclaimed incredulously. "No I'm not!"

"Actually, Dr. Julien has a point," Garamdon said, turning away from a stand of roasted mixed nuts. "Wu took you in as his pupil when he was still a very young man, did he not? And you were only— what did you say— five years old at the time?"

"Yeah, but—" Morro tried to cut in.

"Well, Dr. Julien is a little younger than Wu, so he was probably a teenager when you were just a child. Translating that, he could very well be no older than ten years above your age."

Morro sputtered and tried to think of a comeback, but couldn't.

"Are you quite all right, Morro?" I asked, trying to contain my giggling. "You look as white as a non-ghost!" Garmadon whistled and actually held up his hand for a high-five as the teen tried to figure out what just happened.

"Oh look, they have garlic knots," I pointed out, changing the subject before Morro could think of a way to respond. I had a hard time remembering when I last had to hold in laughter like that.

Garmadon picked up the box I was pointing to and looked on the back. "Where's the nutritional information? I can't find it."

"There is none," I said, still chuckling. "There's no point, since ghosts don't take in food the same way as living beings. You wholly absorb whatever you eat; that is, you gain energy from it, but all the nutrients and fat and material things just disappear. So technically, you could eat nothing but sweets for the rest of eternity, if you wanted to."

"OH! OH!" Morro exclaimed, tugging on my other companions' sleeves. "SEE? I TOLD YOU SO! I TOLD YOU!" He turned to me and pointed accusingly at Garmadon. "I TOLD him you could live off of nothing but sweets, but he didn't believe me!" He started bouncing up and down in triumph like an excited little kid.

Garmadon sighed. "Okay, yes, you did tell me that. But you didn't explain it— and how was I supposed to trust you?"

Morro was too occupied with his victory dance to respond. Putting the box of garlic knots in the the shopping cart— and then on second-thought, grabbing two more boxes— I chuckled.

"Sounds like you two had some very interesting discussions," I said, moving the cart along while grabbing some cans of sliced peaches off the shelves.

"Yes, well, before you so kindly offered to take us in, we were stuck wandering—" Garmadon started, but Morro cut him off.

"Doc, look, they've got cinnamon cookies already!" He sped over to a display halfway down the aisle and ran back with a box in hand.

"Don't they usually wait until the day before to put those out?" I asked, frowning.

"I dunno. Maybe this store carries them earlier. Either way, don't know, don't care," he said, putting the box in the cart. I took it back out.

"The day before what? Day of the Departed?" Garmadon asked. I nodded to confirm, but kept my eyes locked on Morro.

"We don't need these yet," I said, putting the box back on the shelf.

"Psh. Yes we do," he insisted, grabbing a different box. I blocked his way to the cart, but he leaped over my head and jumped into the cart, slamming the treats down triumphantly.

"We are not buying those early," I said, reaching into the cart and snatching them back. "We are not going to be those people."

Morro suddenly got a mischievous look in his eye. "You're right, we'd better not. Don't want to be those people," he said, taking the box back from me, appearing as if he planned to put it back on the shelf. But before he'd set it down, the cart suddenly launched backwards several feet.

"Oh no!" he cried in feigned terror. "This cart's been possessed! Doc, help!" Suddenly, the cart wheeled out of the aisle entirely. It took me a moment to figure it out, but I realized he was shooting out gusts of air behind him to propel his ride forward.

"Morro, you come back here this instant," Garmadon said in a dangerous tone, and Morro grinned and reached out his hand dramatically in response.

"I can't! You have to save me! The cart's been possessed by a ghoooooooost!" he cried, shooting a wind gust from his outstretched hand. Garmadon's years of training kicked in and he launched forward to stop the cart, which was now wheeling down the next aisle. I followed him as fast as I could, and just like that, the chase was on.

"Look out!" I heard another shopper shriek, and turned the corner just in time to see Morro swerve around the customer and her cart without stopping.

"Sorry, Ma'am," Garmadon cried as he followed. I simply gave an apologetic wave as I passed her by, trying to keep up.

"Sensei, help me!" the teen yelped again, with a suspiciously good damsel-in-distress voice. Garmadon neared him, but the blast of wind now blowing in his face slowed him down. The cart and following chase squadron sped around a free-standing display of organic banana chips, and unfortunately, several people were now glancing in the direction of the chase scene. In the midst of the hot pursuit, Garmadon turned his head to me, realizing something.

"You've got to cut him off from the other end of the aisle. I'll get him to go back to the section with the cookies, you just be ready to stop him when we get there!" he instructed me, using his you're-the-world's-last-hope voice. I nodded and swerved off from his course, heading through the front of the store. Several people watched me run by, which was admittedly rather embarrassing.

"Don't you DARE be thinking about grabbing more of those cookies!" I heard a faint voice yell as I neared my destination. I had to admit, Garmadon knew what he was doing. I stopped at the entrance to the row of goods, trying to catch my breath. I looked up to see the shopping cart wheel into the aisle, with Morro still inside. He was laughing his head off and used another gust of wind to fly several more boxes of cookies inside the cart, before he looked forwards and realized I was blocking the exit. I heard his shriek just as I realized that maybe Garmadon's idea had been slightly flawed: Morro was coming on too fast to stop the cart before it crashed. I shut my eyes tightly and braced myself for impact.

A split-second later, I did feel an impact, but it wasn't in the way I expected. Just before the heavy cart should've slammed into my chest, I felt someone grab me tightly and I was suddenly lifted into the air. I heard a "gotcha!" from down below, followed by the dull skidding of wheels. The pressure of someone holding onto me didn't go away, so after I had remained in the air several seconds without falling, I cracked one eye open to see Garmadon a good distance down, holding the cart (which was now full of nothing but food) firmly with both hands. He looked up in my direction and gave an angry "come here" motion, and it took me a moment to realize it wasn't directed at me. I shut my eyes, a little motion sick from the suddenness of being airborne, and felt myself slowly descend until Morro set me down and unwrapped his arms from around me. I blinked a few times, readjusting myself, and was surprised to see that he looked genuinely shaken.

"You okay?" he asked worriedly, but before I could respond, Garmadon motioned for him to come over. He obeyed instructions. I followed him.

"What were you thinking?" the Sensei reprimanded the boy.

He cast his gaze downward, actually looking a bit ashamed of himself. "I was just trying to have fun," he mumbled, but didn't look Garmadon in the eye.

"Well, that was incredibly dangerous," he responded angrily. "Getting hurt may not be permanent here, but it's still painful. I know that from when that stray baseball knocked me in the head," he said, making a knocking motion on his skull to emphasize his point. "And that was before Dr. Julien agreed to take us in— a motion of kindness which you have now repaid by almost slamming into him with a shopping cart full of food, which by the way, was meant to replace the stuff you ate!"

To be honest, the man's speech was gathering more onlookers than the cart chase itself had. Morro kept his head down, his expression slowly turning downright miserable— and given how harsh Garmadon's tone of voice was, I didn't blame him. But I stayed silent and let the Sensei continue. He rambled on for several more minutes until he finally asked the boy,

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

Morro stayed quiet for a moment— was he… biting his lip…?— and then looked up at me and whispered:

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you—!" His voice choked and he wiped his eyes with his sleeve, looking very much in pain. Maker of plastic bricks, was he crying?

"Good. Now you're going to put away all this excess stuff you've been picking up," Garmadon said harshly, motioning to the many boxes of cookies, "and after that you can pay for the food with your own credit."

Morro nodded meekly and slowly pushed the shopping cart back down the aisle without a sound. I watched the scene with a mixture of awe for Garmadon's discipline, sympathy for Morro (who surprisingly looked genuinely upset over his actions), and guilt for the thought that maybe I could've prevented the scenario from happening in the first place.

"I'm sorry about this," I whispered to Garmadon, once most of the shoppers and cashiers had turned back to their own business. He shook his head.

"It's not your fault. And as upset as I am over Morro's behavior, I'm glad something like this came up now rather than at a bigger event, when other people may have gotten hurt." He looked at me with an odd gleam of curiosity in his eyes. "I don't know how you've done it, but somehow, you've gotten the boy to care for you. And now if he won't watch himself for his own sake, he may at least keep himself in check for yours."

I looked thoughtfully over at the teen, who was carefully and neatly stacking the boxes of cookies back where they came from. A few other people in the aisle snatched glances at him, as if they couldn't believe he was the same kid who had nearly crashed into multiple displays with a shopping cart just minutes earlier. He didn't seem to notice their presence.

"So," I said to Garmadon quietly, "after this, what do we do?"

He looked up at me in surprise. "What do you mean? You're a father. Surely you've disciplined Zane before."

I laughed weakly. "The worst thing Zane ever did was sneak outside our home to see the forest when he was just a little tyke. I grounded him from books for a day, but he was already so guilt-ridden from worrying me that he never snuck out again. Actually, since that incident, I don't think he's ever disobeyed me."

Garmadon whistled. "I'm impressed. Then again, you did build the boy…" He shook his head out of his thoughts. "Well, with Morro I'd suggest doing exactly what I used to do with Lloyd. Punish him for his actions and make him right his wrongs— which I've done— give him some time to recover, and then force him to move on." He shrugged. "Bouncing back after a failure is an important skill to learn, and that includes with morals."

I took a moment to absorb everything he'd said. Finally, I spoke back. "You're a very wise man," I said, shyly readjusting my spectacles. "I can see why you became a Sensei."

Garmadon smiled at my compliment, but his attention was then brought back to Morro, who had returned from putting back all the cinnamon cookies. The teen was apparently too intimidated to speak— now that was an impressive feat— so he quietly set to work putting the remaining groceries on the checkout counter. After the foodstuffs had been paid for, we each took several large bags and headed out the door.

On the walk back, I turned to Morro to ask him something, but he seemed deep in thought. I decided to leave him be until we got home.

—

(A/N: I... this was supposed to be a fun chapter... I don't know what happened... I'm so sorry X'D Also, I thought "maker of plastic bricks" would be a good exclamation phrase for characters in Ninjago because of obvious reasons. XP Stay tuned for more domestic shenanigans of three dead LEGO minifigures! I can't believe that's actually a sentence I'm typing and publishing for people to read... what is my life... X'D As always, reviews fuel my passion to keep writing my dumb little stories :3)