Virtual Ink Volume 2 // Issue 1 // Fall 2014 | Page 18

  chirped convincingly like all experienced actors could. He beamed at Antoinette who returned the gesture with ease. Axle laughed heartily, which did little to lighten the mood in my opinion. “Especially not a girl,” he joked. “If you haven’t noticed,” he gestured to the solar system suspended just over his abundance of hair, “Theodore isn’t cut out to be as popular as you might think.” Antoinette formed a lopsided mile in my direction. “Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t think he was that popular in the first place.” Strangely enough it didn’t come across as harshly as it should have, especially as she proceeded to comb her fingers through her sheep’s wool afterwards. The corners of Axle’s mouth crept further towards his ears. “You’ll have to excuse me, but how did you meet my son?” “At the beach,” she offered readily. “Goat destroyed Theo’s computer and also ate his flashdrive, so now Goat and I are here so-“ Axle’s eyes widened, burning toxically above his clenched jaw. “Theodore!” he bellowed, obviously too disappointed in his only son to regard his internal cue cards. “How could you be so foolish? Don’t you know how important this school is for us?” I took a deep breath, about to respond when, “Maaaah!” “Um,” Antoinette announced nervously, “I think the ice cream worked.” My nose sensed the manure before my eyes even had the chance. I followed the trail of the wretched aroma with my vision, landing on an oozing pile of sludge placed directly on top of the carpet. “Hm,” Antoinette mused, “I don’t think we thought this through. We should have got a towel or something, am I right?” “There’s no time for that!” my father urged. “Is it there? Do you see my son’s song?” Antoinette being the only human willing to get near the feces, examined it with her eyes squinted in searching. “Ah-ha!” she exclaimed. “I think I see something!” “Well, what are you waiting for?” My father shot as his neck twisted towards me. “Hurry, Theodore, get the paper towels!” Upon rising from my perch on Pluto, I grabbed a role of paper towels off my desk as ordered. Though once I reached the spot where Antoinette was crouched by the dung, I ceased to hand her the towels. “Theo?” she puzzled with her head lifted towards me. “Is everything alright?” Or maybe, Antoinette’s words echoed in my head, this was just the perfect excuse. “You’re right,” I admitted with a grin. “Of course I am!” Antoinette agreed.