Chapter 3: My son
Fundy looks up at the man he just ran into. He doesn't recognize the white streak in his hair or the greenish pieces of skin held onto his body with stitches. The rest though. He recognized the rest. The scent of cigarettes confirms Fundy's suspicions. "Fundy! My son." the man says with a smile, breaking the silence. Fundy's eyes narrow, "Wilbur." He growls. Wilbur's smirk falters. "What, not happy to see your good old dad?" Fundy rolls his eyes and mutters, "Old might be true but the rest…" Wilbur chuckles "I'm not that old! Technically only about 30. If you don't count the time I was in limbo." Fundy stares at Wilbur, a look of annoyance and confusion on his face. "Whatever. You're still not my dad and if you count yourself as that then you're definitely not a good one." Wilbur's eye twitches as he speaks, "Of course I was a good father. I took care of you didn't I? Fed you, clothed you-" Fundy cuts Wilbur off before he can continue, "No. I fed myself. Clothed Myself. You were too focused on Tommy to give a single fuck about me." Wilbur's eyes narrow. "I never prioritized Tommy over you. You're my son. My priority. I did take care of you." Fundy growls "Whatever. I'm done with this." Fundy turns and stomps away. After determining he's far enough away, Fundy leans against the wall, still holding the papers he was supposed to give to Quackity. The letter on top clearly displaying Purpled's handwriting
I'm sorry for the late and short chapter. I got as much as I could done before publishing. please enjoy!