#but he's HOME!!!! just for the weekend and then gone again for an indeterminate amount of time BUT for now I'm very happy

[sportsthoughts]

Day 51 of offseason gifs - In The Room S04E03 - Flower celebrates his 300th career win (24/11/14)

[chudleycanonficfest]

Lover

Day 8, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Lover (or, five times Lavender felt Ron slipping away, and the one time she didn't)

Author: adenei

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Lavender Brown, but also heavy insinuations on Ron x Hermione 

Prompt: 5+1

Rating: T (for fabricated insinuations)

TW: Teen heartbreak and all the drama that comes with it.

Author's note: While I am primarily a Romione writer, I could not get this idea out of my head. So, here's a little Lav redemption. After all, she was only a girl who fell for a boy and pursued a perfectly unattached boy.

******

9 November 1996

I think he knows his hands around a cold glass 

Make me wanna know that body like it’s mine.

-I Think He Knows

The Gryffindor common room was aglow in crimson and gold, filled to capacity for the celebration of today’s victory against Slytherin. Seamus and Dean managed to smuggle in a boatload of Butterbeer for everyone, which masked the two bottles of Firewhisky Seamus was passing around their inner circle. Parvati and Lavender were lounging in the same armchair on the far side of the room.

  Lavender’s never been one to pay close attention to a Quidditch match. Sure, she was all about the parties and house spirit following a match, and if Hogwarts had a cheer squad, she’d be the first person to sign up. But sitting in the stands, watching a match for an indeterminable amount of time? She could think of at least five other things to do that didn’t involve the wind claiming victim to her hair as players whizzed by on broomsticks.

  Now that they were inside and out of the crisp November air, she could enjoy the party with her friends. Though, it’d be much more enjoyable if a certain redhead would stop flashing a grin in her direction and just come over to talk to her instead.

  “You're staring again,” Parvati chided.

  Lavender sighed in response. She couldn’t help it. He’d filled out over the summer, and Quidditch training had been kind to his physique. Red hair wasn’t a feature she ever gravitated to in the past, but freckles and those bright blue eyes were her downfall. Not to mention his infectious smile and the way he was always able to make everyone around him laugh. Ron Weasley was a good guy, and Lavender wanted to get to know him better.

  “He’s single, right?” Her fingers twirled her curly blonde hair between her fingers as she watched him take a swig of Butterbeer from the cold glass in his hands.

  “As single as the last time you asked me,” Parvati responded with an air of nonchalance in her tone.

  Lavender wasn’t surprised by her bored tone. There was only so much they could talk about when it came to Ron, considering neither knew that much about him. She contemplated Parvati’s response, weighing the options of trying to pursue something. A voice in the back of Lavender’s mind was screaming at her to ask what her other roommate’s thoughts were on the matter concerning Lavender asking Ron out, but Hermione was nowhere to be found. 

  Besides, did it really matter what she thought? Hermione has had all the time in the world to make a move on Ron if she really wanted to. She had no claim on the redheaded Gryffindor. As far as Lavender knew, he was fair game, and at the rate Ron kept glancing in her direction, she was sure it meant something.

  So, Lavender swiped the bottle of Firewhisky from the space between Parvati’s legs and the arm of the chair, where she’d been keeping it hidden, and took a large swig. She’d need the liquid courage for what she’d just decided to do.

  “What are you—” Parvati started to ask before Lavender cut her off.

  “I’m going for it.”

  Without another thought, Lavender hopped off the chair and marched over to Ron, who had just set his empty glass down on the table behind him. She still hadn’t made up her mind about whether she was going to say anything or not and let the wide lopsided grin that erupted on his face decide for her when he saw her approaching.

  “Hey, Lavender! What’d you think of the—”

  Lavender didn’t wait to hear the rest of Ron’s question as she threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips. His eager response paired with his hands finding a home on her hips egged her on as she refused to break the kiss right away. It was sloppy, and he was inexperienced, but he didn’t pull away at her advances. 

  I can teach him a thing or two and whip him into boyfriend material in no time.

  When they finally did pull apart, it was to a chorus of catcalls around the room. A coy smile passed over her lips as she asked, “should we find someplace a little more private?”

  ♚

20 December 1996

  Kiss me once, cause I know you had a long night

Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright

Three times ‘cause you waited your whole life

~Paper Rings

  “So, what do you want to do tonight?” 

  Lavender bounced up and down on the sofa next to Ron. It was the last night before the Christmas hols, and she wanted to make the most of it since she wouldn’t get to kiss him for two weeks. But something was off. Ron seemed distracted, and he kept looking past her, which was beginning to grate on Lavender’s nerves.

  “Er, I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of packing to do still, so I’m not sure if we should really—”

  Lavender was taken aback as Ron threw himself at her, lips clashing together even though he was just in the middle of telling her he was too busy to do anything. Lavender cracked an eyelid open to see Hermione shoot them a disgusted look as she crossed the room and waited by the portrait hole. She clamped her eyes shut a moment later when she sensed Ron’s twitch.

  She wasn’t going to complain about snogging her boyfriend in the middle of the common room, but she kept her ears open.

  “Ah, Granger, looking delicious as ever.”

  Hermione was going to the party with Cormac? She must really be desperate to want to go with that sleazeball. 

  “Let’s get going,” Hermione responded in her usual clipped tone. “I’d rather not be in the vicinity of that much longer.”

  Lavender tried not to be offended by Hermione’s icy words. Ron didn’t deserve to be treated like rubbish, and neither did she. It’s not like Hermione had laid any claim on Ron. She tried to refocus her attention on the snog, but Ron pulled away as soon as the portrait hole closed.

  Huh, well, that was odd.

  “Well, I should go and get packed, then. I’ll see you in the morning?”

  What just happened? Is he really going upstairs after snogging me like that? 

  Lavender was thoroughly confused by Ron’s actions. Nothing seemed to match up tonight, and she didn’t want to leave things like this at the train station tomorrow. She needed to know what was going through his mind.

  “Won-Won, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t seem like ‘nothing'. Why’d you start snogging me when Hermione came down the stairs?”

  “What? I can’t snog my girlfriend? It had nothing to do with Hermione.”

  Ron sounded convincing, but Lavender was still hesitant to believe it.

  “Are you sure? 

  “Yes.”

  Lavender noticed how Ron’s ears turned a bright shade of pink and wondered if he was hiding something. Even if he was, he was her boyfriend, and she decided to trust him. Switching gears, Lavender asked him the other question that was weighing on her mind.

  “Not that I care who Hermione’s going to the Slug Club party with, but why McLaggen? Everyone in Gryffindor knows to stay away from him.”

  “Dunno. Why do you say that?”

  “You don’t know? McLaggen doesn’t like to be told ‘no’.”

  “He—what?” Ron groaned and rubbed the back of his neck while his nostrils flared in annoyance. Or was it anger?

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, well, she shouldn’t be going with him in the first place.”

  “Why?” Lavender peered intently at Ron, waiting for an answer.

  His cheeks were flushed as he shook his head, eyes darting to the boy’s staircase as if he was looking for an escape.

  “Er, no reason…”

  “Won-Won,” warned Lavender.

  “I—er, I think I was supposed to go with Hermione tonight.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Lavender sensed his immediate attempt to backpedal the conversation before he even spoke. He was already standing and moving around to the backside of the sofa. Even as he attempted an explanation, Lav gathered the impression that he was trying to convince himself more so than her.

  “Well, she never officially asked me! Besides, we got into a huge row, and now I’m with you, so it doesn’t matter. Look, Lav, I’m tired, and I’ve got a lot to do. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Without another word, Ron disappeared up the boy’s staircase, which left Lavender on the sofa, reeling at his words. How had she not known that Hermione had asked him—or tried to ask him—to the party?  He wasn’t trying to get back at Hermione by using Lavender, was he?

  No, that’s ridiculous! He fancies you! You wouldn’t have spent a whole month together if he was trying to get back at your roommate. 

  Lavender pushed her discomfort over Ron’s actions to the back of her mind. She’d know if he wasn’t interested. He probably just misses his friend. It was really a shame Hermione couldn’t be happy for Ron, or Lavender for that matter. But Lav wasn’t going to do anything about it, not while she had Ron all to herself. Maybe she was being selfish, but Ron was her boyfriend, and she intended to keep it that way.

♚

5 January 1997

  Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true

I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

~Cruel Summer

  Lavender was chomping at the bit to spend time with Ron upon their return to Hogwarts the Sunday after New Years, but obligations kept getting in the way. Apparently, Ron was busy with rounds and Prefect meetings during the entire train ride back to the castle, and then Harry had scheduled a team meeting after dinner. She’d given up the hope of seeing him that evening and settled on waiting for him to go down to breakfast the next morning. 

  Lavender hoped Ron wasn’t embarrassed because he never bought her a Christmas gift. They were only together for a month, and there wasn’t a Hogsmeade weekend where he could have gone to buy her anything anyways. And since Harry was staying with the Weasleys, she assumed there were more safety wards in place, so the chances he could get to Diagon Alley to shop for her were slim too. 

  It’s not like she intended on getting him a gift, either, but when she saw the opportunity to get two lockets at buy one get one free, she couldn’t resist. She’d purchased one for Parvati’s gift, and her mother had always taught her to never pass up a deal, so she’d had the locket engraved with ‘Won-Won’ and sent it to him for Christmas.

  When Ron came barreling down the stairs the next morning, Lavender was so excited that she pounced on him, which caused him to flail backwards and almost topple over. 

  “Won-Won!” She left a sloppier than intended kiss on his cheek as he turned his face.

  “Hey, Lav. Er, sorry about yesterday.”

  “It’s fine, are you ready for breakfast?”

  He nodded as they exited the portrait hole. They were halfway to the Great Hall when Lavender attempted to engage him in conversation again. She knew he wasn’t a morning person, but she wasn’t willing to wait another few hours.

  “So, how were your holidays?”

  “Huh? Oh, they were good. Yours?”

  “Wonderful! I love going home for Christmas. My younger brother was so excited to see me. I picked out a toy broom for his gift this year, and he spent the whole two weeks riding on it! I was so sad to say goodbye to him again, but Easter will be here before we know it. Maybe you can come home and meet my family for Easter hols.”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.”

  Lavender could sense from Ron’s lackluster response that he wasn’t paying attention. So, she followed his gaze, and of course, there was Hermione, most likely darting off to the library or wherever she went to avoid her former best friend. Her blood boiled at the way she was treating Ron. At least that’s what she was telling herself. She certainly wasn’t jealous of the way Ron was watching her.

  Lavender reached up and gently turned his face back to focus on her. “Did you like your gift?”

  “Y-yeah, it’s great.”

  “Are you wearing it?” Her hand slid down to feel his chest. Maybe it was concealed under his uniform.

  “Er, no. I—uh—I’ve got it tucked away under my pillow for safekeeping.”

  “Why? You aren’t embarrassed of us, are you?”

  “N-no! I just like to—uh—keep it close when I’m sleeping so I can dream of you!”

  Lavender suppressed a laugh at his attempt to give an excuse to not wear it. It was sweet, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. She threw her arms around him and squealed in response to his reasoning. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable, so Lavender figured a positive reaction would make him feel better about the whole ordeal.

  “That’s so sweet, Won-Won! I’m glad you liked it!”

  His face turned a blotchy red as they entered the hall and found a seat at the Gryffindor table. Lavender chose not to press the issue anymore as she turned to her thoughts instead. Maybe the locket wasn’t the best idea to give a boyfriend of only a month. But she’d never felt this way before. Seamus had been a fun fling, but with Ron, she felt different. He made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and she hoped she hadn’t given him the wrong impression with the gift. 

  She’d just have to make it up to him in other ways. Yes, that was it. Lavender would make sure he knew how much she cared while also making sure his eye didn’t continue wandering toward her roommate and his former best friend.

  ♚

14 February 1997

  Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

~Lover

  Lavender sat alone in the empty classroom, waiting for Ron to show up after rounds. Rounds! Why did he have to have rounds today, of all days?  It was completely and utterly unfair. He promised her he’d meet her in the empty classroom near Gryffindor tower as soon as rounds were over, but it was already ten past eleven, and he was nowhere to be found.

  She hadn’t gotten him anything this time for fear it might embarrass him again, just like the locket. Oh yes, she’d heard Harry telling Neville about his Christmas present while she was searching for a book in the library, and she heard every excruciating detail of how mortified Ron was by it. Apparently, it wasn’t under his pillow after all. It was hidden in the bottom of his trunk. So, for Valentine’s Day, she opted to give him something he could hang onto in his mind instead. 

  At least, that’s what she planned. Lavender took to pacing the classroom for another ten minutes before resigning to the fact that Ron wasn’t coming. A pang of disappointment rippled out from her heart, and she tried to convince herself that maybe he’d forgotten. But ever since they’d returned from Christmas hols, she felt Ron pulling further and further away. Before the two week break, they’d gone off to spend time together every night, snogging in empty classrooms and broom closets, and sometimes even a late-night walk around the castle. Now, she was lucky if she could pry him away from his studies twice a week to spend some quality time together. 

  Sure, they ate meals together and sat next to each other in their shared classes, but it wasn’t like they ever talked that much. Come to think of it, every time she’d try to ask about his life, he’d always deflect to her. And of course, Lavender never had a problem finding something to talk about with her family because she wanted to share everything she could with Ron. Yet now, she was wondering if he actually cared or if he was just being polite.

  Thoughts consumed her mind as she walked silently back to Gryffindor tower. By the time she entered the common room, it was deserted. Part of her thought about checking to see if Ron was back in the dorms, but the other side told her it wasn’t worth it. It’d be his own fault if he got caught sneaking around after hours without her since he’d ditched her on what was supposed to be the most romantic night of the year. 

  The last thing she wanted to do was go up to her dorm and face Hermione’s smug look when she found out Ron ditched his girlfriend tonight, but she wasn’t about to hang around the common room like a rejected piece of garbage. 

  Ron is still yours. Not hers. Even if tonight didn’t go as planned, still make her remember that.

  So, when she entered the girl’s sixth-year dorm, Lavender plastered a smile on her face. Parvati was sitting on her bed while Hermione’s curtains were closed tight.

  “Hey! I was wondering when you were going to show up. Have a good night?”

  “Oh, it was the best!” Lavender gushed. “Ron was so sweet and romantic. He gave me some chocolate frogs, which I know are his favorite, and I gave him...well, you know.”

  She made her voice sound as suggestive as possible, and if Hermione was listening, then that was her own fault.

  “I need to freshen up now. I’m rather sweaty from all that we got up to. And then I should head to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning, Par, I promise. Ron thoroughly wore me out, I’m exhausted.”

  What neither girl realized, though, was that Lavender let out a good cry in the shower instead. Because her boyfriend ditched her on her favorite day of the year.

  ♚

2 March 1997

  Cause I can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s not

It’s death by a thousand cuts

~Death by a Thousand Cuts

  “I’m sure he’s just on a lot of potions, Lav. I wouldn’t think too much of it.”

  Parvati was attempting to comfort her best friend. Lavender had had a rotten weekend. Ron was poisoned yesterday, on his birthday of all days! Not that the day mattered. He was still poisoned, and he could have died!

  What did make it worse was that nobody thought to tell her until well into the afternoon. She’d burst into the Hospital Wing to find his best friend, sister, and her sitting vigil at his bedside. Lavender didn’t think she’d ever been so livid in her life. And then he’d croaked something out in his sleep that sounded like a name, but it was not hers.

  She felt the entire relationship slipping through her fingers. When did things start to take a turn for the worse? What went wrong? Surely he still fancied her because if he didn’t, then why hadn’t he called things off?

  Because he does still fancy you. Of course, he does! Don’t worry about her. She means nothing to him. 

  Lavender tried with all her might to believe it, but it was becoming harder and harder every day. And despite her best friend’s attempts to make her feel better, it wasn’t doing any good. Parvati wasn’t outside the Hospital Wing with Lav when she overheard Ron talking to Harry and asking for Quidditch magazines. There was no question that he was awake, but as soon as she walked in, Ron ‘magically’ appeared to be sleeping again. And Harry had the audacity to cover for him!

  She’d tried to go see him two more times that day, and both times he was ‘sleeping.’ Something happened, and he was avoiding her, and it hurt. But how could she call him out on it when he was ‘asleep’? 

  She thought about whether she should confide in Parvati or just internalize her feelings. Parvati had been there through everything, but Lavender decided she wasn’t ready to bring up her speculations until she had more proof. So instead, Lavender chose to keep her thoughts to herself.

  Did she want to break things off with Ron? No. Was she willing to do what it took to keep him around? Yes. So, Lavender resolved to do whatever it took to keep Ron interested. She’d back off, not be as needy, and keep things cool and breezy. They could make this work. She was sure of it.

   ♚

2 April 1997

  And I don’t want you to (go) I don’t really wanna (fight)

‘Cause nobody’s gonna (win) I just thought you should know

~Miss Americana and the Heart Break Prince

  Lavender entered the common room after Divination to see Ron sitting on the couch next to Harry. The two were furiously scribbling on parchment, and Lavender couldn't help but roll her eyes at what she assumed to be a last-minute attempt to finish one of his assignments. Even so, she figured she’d surprise him and see if he could be persuaded to take a break and go for a walk instead.

  She dropped her bag behind the sofa and covered Ron’s eyes with her hands. “Guess who!”

  “Oi!” Ron flung his arms back, sending ink droplets flying over his and Harry’s parchment, as well as the table and upholstery of the sofa in the process.

  Lavender ripped her hands off his eyes and apologized with a pout. “It’s only me, Won-Won. I just wanted to surprise you.”

  “Oh, er, sorry, Lav. I’m busy right now. I need to finish Snape’s Defense essay.” 

  The words sounded apologetic, but the lack of sympathy in Ron’s expression caused unease to bubble up in Lavender’s stomach. Usually, he’s better about hiding his disinterest in showing affection around his friends. But the way he’d acted just now made her feel like he was downright repulsed by an innocent touch.

  “But that essay isn’t due until tomorrow. I still have to put the final touches on mine as well. Maybe we could go for a walk now and work on it together after dinner?”

  Sure, the snogging was brilliant, but that’s all they ever seemed to do. She wanted to make things work between them, and after five months, she knew they’d never have a successful relationship if it stayed strictly physical. Besides, that clearly wasn’t working in an effort to keep him interested anymore.

  “Sorry, Lav, I can’t. I’ve got rounds tonight.”

  Another pang of hurt emanated in her chest at his rejection. “Oh, well, maybe I could work on it with you now, then?”

  She knew what his answer was going to be before he said anything. He was already packing up his things. 

  “Er, maybe on another assignment. I’ve got to hit the library before dinner and see if I can find one more source. I’ll meet up with you later, though, yeah?”

  Ron was already out of his seat and headed for the door without bothering to wait for a response, which further solidified Lavender’s suspicion that it was an offer he didn’t intend to follow through on. Ordinarily, she would have given him the benefit of the doubt, but it’d been three weeks of him avoiding her ever since he and Hermione had reconciled. With a heavy sigh, she picked up her bag and headed for the girl’s dormitory, where she passed Hermione on the stairwell.

  “Let me guess, Ron’s busy?” Parvati asked, saving Lavender from having to retell the excuse.

  “Yeah. He has rounds tonight, I guess.”

  “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “Hermione has rounds tonight, too. Padma said they switched back for the month.”

  Lavender felt as though a fifty-pound weight had been placed on her chest as her heart constricted at Parvati’s news. She knew this was coming but refused to believe it, choosing instead to turn a blind eye to all the signs. A tear escaped out of the corner of her eye as she tried to come to terms with the fact that no matter what she did, Hermione was going to win. Which led her to wonder whether Ron had ever truly been hers at all.

  Well, good. If Ron’s not interested anymore, then he can be a man and break things off. And if he’s too much of a coward to do it on his own, then I’ll do everything in my power to help push him along, all while reminding Hermione that he’s still mine in the process.

Maybe it was spiteful, but Lavender no longer cared. Deep down, she knew their relationship was probably doomed from the start, but that didn’t lessen the pain. Perhaps she never stood a chance, especially knowing his relationship with Hermione never was a typical friendship, but Ron could have told her no all those months ago if that was the case. Their fleeting relationship may have come to pass, but at least Lavender had the memories of time spent together to look back on when he had cared. Because he had cared once, right?

[pines-troz]

Weekend With The Warners: Chapter Eight

Summary: When the CEO assigns Pinky and The Brain with the important task of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids.

Warning: The last third of this chapter includes animal testing (albeit not a graphic depiction) as well as PTSD and trauma.

Word Count: 11,403

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/75446471

Before the break of dawn, Brain awoke from his slumber to find his left arm trapped underneath his slumbering partner. The mouse prided himself on being the big spoon, there were moments where he preferred to be the little spoon. He loved feeling the warmth from Pinky's soft fur while contentedly nestling in the taller mouse's affectionate embrace. Try as he might, Brain could never fully achieve success as the big spoon. While he tried his hardest to assert his protective nature when he wrapped his arms around his tall partner, he always felt like a little backpack.

Brain snaked his left arm, which fell numb from supporting Pinky's weight. Feeling an itch underneath his chin, he took his right hand to ameliorate the situation only to feel the scruffy grey hairs growing from his ivory fur. The mouse groaned in irritation. He was going to take Pinky and the Warners out for an exquisite brunch at an upscale restaurant and he needed to clean up if he wanted to blend in with the other patrons. Well, about as much as a small laboratory mouse escorting three toon children of indeterminate species could.

Not wanting to wake Pinky up, Brain carefully snuck out of bed and trotted over to the bathroom to shave. However, the mouse didn't take into account that only two of the Warners were still snoozing in the other bed.

When Brain opened up the bathroom door, he was shocked to find a most horrifying sight.

"Oh, dear God!" The small mouse shouted as he stared at Yakko, still dressed in his pajamas, setting up a guillotine while happily humming the tune to 'Yakko's World'.

"What, in the name of Socrates's tainted tongs, are you doing with that guillotine?" Brain demanded.

"Oh, this old thing" Yakko mentioned, pointing a thumb at the execution device. "Well, I'm in a little bit of a dilemma. This morning I woke up to find little hairs growing around my face." The teen explained. Taking out a magnifying glass from his hammerspace, he leaned towards Brain to show him the few, practically microscopic black hairs that sprouted around his face. "So naturally, I figured that I shave off those pesky facial hairs before going out for brunch."

Brain smacked his paw against his giant head. "Yakko, I admire your eagerness, but a guillotine is not considered to be a proper tool for shaving." The mouse headed over towards the execution device, which was supported by small black wheels, and pushed it as hard as his little mouse body would allow. "Perhaps we should set aside this device for more serious matters, like dealing with corrupt politicians or heartless billionaires." He explained as he pushed the guillotine out of the bathroom, which then disappeared upon crashing into the wall.

"Well, then how else am I gonna shave." Yakko inquired impatiently.

"With a razor, Robespierre," Brain sarcastically answered.

"Oh, I gotcha!" Yakko acknowledged with a grin. The teen reached into his hammerspace once more and retrieved an old Motorola Razr model flip phone.

Brain frowned indignantly with furrowed brows. "Now you're just teasing me." Yakko flashed a playful smile in response.

"Allow me to assist you in the proper etiquette of shaving." The pudgy mouse remarked as he took the tape measure elevator up to the counter. "There should be some shaving cream, exfoliator scrub, after-shave cream, and a couple of disposable razors in the drawer."

"Since when do mice grow facial hair anyway?" Yakko asked.

"A strange inquiry coming from the boy who summoned a guillotine out of thin air." Brain responded in a sardonic tone. "No, it's impossible for the average mouse to grow facial hair. I believe that this is yet another side effect of having gone through the gene splicer, in addition to having an increased life span and the ability to take in a comical amount of pain."

"Now go fetch me the necessary tools from the drawer." Brain firmly commanded. "There should be some shaving cream, exfoliator scrub, a couple of disposable razors, and a bottle of after-shave."

Yakko opened up the drawer and saw two navy blue razors covered with a plastic shield and a blue bottle of shaving cream. "You mean these things?" The teen inquired as he held them up.

"Yes, Yakko," Brain answered as he headed towards the sink faucet. With tiny paws, he lifted the rod and turned on the handles. He looked over at Yakko, who began to shake the bottle of shaving cream. Just as he started to dispense some of the creams, Brain approached the teen.

"Now let's not get too excited with the shaving cream. You must first wash your face." The mouse explained. Once the sink was filled with an appropriate amount of water, he turned it off. Cupping his hands, Brain dipped them into the warm water and spread them across his face. "The warm water will relax your skin and make it more receptive to the razor and less prone to razor bumps."

Yakko copied Brain's instructions. But then his playful side kicked in when he dunked his gloved hands into the sink and flicked a few droplets of water onto Brain. The mouse flinched the moment he was assaulted by the sink water.

"Yakko," Brain grumbled.

"Sorry, teach!" Yakko playfully apologized.

For the next five minutes, Brain continued to teach Yakko the proper shaving etiquette. While the teen got a little overboard with applying too much shaving cream, he managed to do a decent job with his first go at shaving. Brain was thankful that Yakko didn't do anything remotely crazy while using the disposable razor. After they rinsed off with cold water, Brain taught the teen how to apply the after-shave.

Once the little impromptu shaving lesson was complete, Yakko admired his clean-shaven face, feeling like a million bucks. Brain smiled at his eager pupil. "Well, I commend you for your quick learning." The big-headed mouse complimented.

"Thanks, Brain," Yakko replied. "Though, I gotta ask you something, who taught you how to shave anyway?"

"I taught myself," Brain answered. "I learned most, if not all, of the important life skills all on my own and without any assistance."

The room grew silent. Yakko stared at the mouse with a concerned expression. Brain seldom brought up his life as a laboratory mouse. "So no one taught you anything?"

Brain only shook his head. "I was only a young child when scientists separated me from my family and home in the wilderness to be incarcerated at Acme Labs."

Yakko instinctively rubbed the back of his head, feeling a pang of empathy for the mouse. He knew what it was like to be self-reliant at a young age, but he never had any loving paternal figures before he was locked away at the tower alongside his younger siblings. Even still, the teen was curious about Brain's youth and carefully crafted his question before speaking up.

"Do you remember anything about your parents?"

Brain's eyes widened at the eldest Warner's inquiry. It was an innocent question born from genuine interest and curiosity. So the mouse decided to provide a satisfactory answer. "My memories of my early childhood are fairly hazy, but there are aspects of it I distinctly remember. The warmth of my parents' fur whenever they embraced me, their ruby red eyes that glimmered in the sun, the richness of my mother's milk, and the nights spent snuggling close to them as we slumbered in our tin-can home."

Yakko noticed the sad smile on Brain's face as he reminisced of his early youth. The teen couldn't imagine how horrifying it must be to be permanently separated from his family. "And you never saw them again?"

Brain looked at the eldest Warner. "Well I did encounter my parents years later, but the reunion was not as joyful as it could have been."

"What happened?" Yakko asked.

"Let's just say that they don't necessarily approve of my life choices, save for having Pinky as my roommate." Brain answered flatly.

"Ah," Yakko noted. The teen felt sorry for the mouse and tried his best to provide some consolation. "Well, at least you got to see your parents again,"

"Yes," Brain muttered, casting his eyes down on the countertop.

Yakko sadly frowned, noting that his words of comfort didn't do the trick. He drummed his fingers on the countertop. There was something else that Yakko needed to get off his chest, but he didn't know how well to articulate it. "Well, you're not the only one who had to learn everything on their own."

Brain looked up at the eldest Warner. The mouse thought back to the early days of his acting gig on Animaniacs, and the various stories he heard about the three troublesome toon siblings who were locked up by the studio for over sixty years because they were too much to handle. When he first heard of these tales, the mouse was initially intimidated by the toon children due to the sheer chaos they possessed. But as he and Pinky got to know their co-stars, Brain's fears melted away, and as he pondered over their backstory, he became sympathetic to their plight. He couldn't begin to imagine the difficulties the children faced of being isolated in a water tower for so long. This hardship must have been harrowing for poor Yakko, who had to learn everything on his own on top of having to care for his two younger siblings.

Brain rubbed his left arm up and down. "I guess so," he said softly. As much as the mouse wanted to ask questions about the teen's upbringing, he couldn't bring himself to do so. Instead, he wanted to reassure the boy.

Brain looked up at Yakko and carefully approached his hand, which was leaning on the countertop. "I am well aware of the unfair circumstances that forced you to become the sole caregiver of your dear siblings," he gingerly addressed. "And while you have done a tremendous job, you should not have to be the only one providing for your family."

Yakko was stunned by what he was hearing. He gave an astonished look at the mouse, who placed his firm, yet gentle paws over his hand.

Brain stared up at the eldest Warner with a steadfast expression on his face. "I don't know what it's like to be an older sibling, but I recognize the responsibility that comes with taking care of the ones you love."

Yakko didn't have to be a rocket scientist to realize that Brain was referring to his dearest Pinky. Ever since he first met them in the early nineties, the mice were as close as can be and were always seen together whenever they went about in the studio lot. Much like how he was always with his siblings whenever they caused playful pandemonium.

"And if you need any help, you can always call upon myself and Pinky." Brain solemnly offered. "We're more than happy to assist you in any way if you so choose."

Yakko was surprised to hear such a suggestion coming from Brain. Wakko and Dot were already enamored with the idea of having mouse parents, and the mice were willing to step up to the plate. Perhaps he no longer had to bear the solitary responsibility of taking proper care of his siblings. What's more, the constant attention he would receive from two guardians was another enticing aspect of the deal.

"Well Brain, I just might take your offer into consideration!" He responded with an eager smile. The teen carefully scooped the big-headed mouse into his hands.

Brain allowed a small smile to cross his lips. He was finally getting through to the boy!

"And Brain," Yakko spoke up. "I forgot to tell you this earlier, but I wanna thank you for helping Wakko find his drawing from the library."

The mouse's ears perked upwards at the grateful tone.

"It made my sib's day and I'm grateful that you went the extra mile for them," Yakko explained with a smile.

At that moment, Brain was speechless. What he once saw as another wacky situation was seen as a genuine act of kindness. "You're welcome." He quietly replied.

The sudden noise of bouncing bed springs followed by jovial laughter reached their ears. Brain and Yakko emerged from the bathroom to find Wakko and Dot playfully wrestling on the bed while Pinky cheered on, thrusting his purple pom-poms into the air.

"Alright, that's enough roughhousing children!" Brain alerted the two Warners in a slightly strict tone before turning his attention towards his partner. "And quit enabling their shenanigans, Pinky!"

"Oops, sorry Brain," Pinky quickly apologized with a hint of regret in his tone.

Brain leaped off of Yakko's hands and landed on top of the mattress. "Now, I'm taking you all out for breakfast and I want you all to dress to impress!"

-                     -                        -                             -                            -

The group was seated at the round table at the nearest upscale restaurant, happily enjoying their brunch. Everyone dressed their best for the special meal. Pinky wore a flowy strawberry-printed dress, Brain wore a purple blazer and matching skater skirt, a black turtleneck sweater, and a gold chain necklace. Yakko wore a billowy puffy white shirt with rainbow suspenders attached to his brown slacks, Wakko wore a red-and-black plaid kilt in addition to their blue sweater, and Dot wore a red T-shirt and blue overalls with a small rainbow across the front.

Everything was running smoothly during their brunch. Brain indulged himself and Pinky in the finest dishes on the menu. The Warners even made the effort to be zany to a moderate degree. They all engaged in playful conversation. Brain looked over to see how happy Yakko was, laughing with his siblings. Some of the other patrons looked at the toon children with a mix of fear or disgust, but Brain didn't care. As long as they were happy, then he was happy.

While they waited for the check to come in, Brain took a spoon and gently tapped it on the side of his glass of water. "Attention!" He called out.

The Warners and Pinky turned their attention towards the big-headed mouse. Wakko was especially excited. "Are we gonna bust into an elaborate musical number?" He asked, taking out a pair of drumsticks from their hammerspace.

"That won't be necessary, Wakko." Brain addressed. "Now, since our day is winding down, I have one more important activity for us to engage in after we check out of the hotel and bring your luggage back to the studio lot."

"Are we gonna help you take over the world?!" Dot asked excitedly.

"A valid guess, but no." Brain answered though he was pleased to hear the Warner sister's suggestion come off as genuine. "Instead, we shall spend the afternoon at the park!"

"Poit! We'll play all sorts of games, like frisbee, and flying kites, and pet any doggies that walk by!" Pinky joyfully added.

The Warners exchanged eager glances at each other. "And if we're lucky, we can drop by the Wheel of Morality!" Yakko suggested.

"Egad, that sounds fun-fun, silly-willy!" Pinky cheered.

The waitress approached the table and handed Brain the black flipbook that contained the check. The mouse thanked the waitress and proceeded to inspect the check. The expensive brunch totaled two-hundred and fifty dollars and twenty-four cents. He was grateful that the studio would be paying for this extravagant expense. Without a word, Brain retrieved the golden credit card and placed it in the folder, slapped the flipbook shut, and returned it to the waitress.

Despite the wacky antics, he endured all weekend long, he was thankful to have his fine-dining experience.

-                     -                        -                             -                            -

A blue Uber van pulled up at the front of the Warner Bros. Studio lot. Once the side door opened, the Warners and the mice quickly emerged from the vehicle with their luggage in tow. Brain piloted his mechanical human suit once again, grabbing some of the suitcases. He was thankful that the process of checking out of the hotel and commuting back to Burbank went off without a hitch. Once the van sped off, the group looked up at the studio lot.

"Home again, home again," Yakko blissfully sighed.

"Unfortunately, the CEO doesn't want any of us to set foot in the lot until sunset." Brain advised the Warners. "Why don't I fly over to the water tower and drop off your belongings there before we head to the park."

The Warners happily agreed, giving the mouse the rest of their luggage. "Pinky and I will be back in a minute, so don't do anything rash while we're gone."

"We weren't planning on it, since neither of us has any ointment," Wakko replied.

"And remember, the door's a pull, not a push!" Yakko quickly added.

"Duly noted," Brain acknowledged as he started his engines. The jet boosters in his shoes ignited and the suit was launched into the air.

Dot's eyes widened with excitement as she felt her hair and skirt blow through from the suit's jet engines. She remembered the excitement on Wakko's face when he gushed over how fun it was to ride on Brain's suit. Not wanting to be left out, the Warner sister wanted a piece of the action.

The girl reached into her hammerspace and took out a megaphone. "Hey Brain, I just remembered that I forgot something in the water tower and I need to go get it."

The mice heard her request. Brain yanked the controls, turning the suit around to retrieve the Warner sister.

Dot bounced in excitement when she saw the suit fly down.

But Yakko grew suspicious of his sister. "Do you even need to go back to the water tower?"

"No," Dot casually admitted with a confident smile.

But before any of her siblings could react, Dot was swept off of her feet and carefully secured in Brain's mechanical arms. The task of balancing the Warner sister and the various suitcases proved to be a challenge, but not an impossible feat. After shifting his position, he found a satisfactory position and maintained his steadiness over the controls.

The first thing she felt was the wind flowing through her fur. She then glanced down at the various buildings in the studio, admiring the aerial perspective of her beloved abode.

Dot's eyes widened as she observed the movie lot from above. "Woah,"

"Isn't it so much fun!" Pinky exclaimed from the comfort of the coat pocket.

"The greatest!" She eagerly replied.

Brain allowed a small smirk as he listened to their conversation.

But the fun didn't last long when Brain shifted the controls of his suit just before they arrived at the water tower. With a hard tug, he managed to stop the suit before it could collide with the water tower door. He carefully placed Dot down on the steps first before proceeding to drop the luggage.

Dot opened up the Warner Bros. logo door open, gesturing the mice to enter. She swiftly turned on the light switch, illuminating her humble home. The interior of the water tower was in a somewhat pristine state, ignoring the crumpled up bags of potato chips and napkins scattered across the floor.

Pinky hopped out from the pocket and landed on the floor with a thud. Laughing off the pain, he got up and explored the interior of the water tower. "Poit! A lot has changed since the last time we were up in the water tower." He observed.

"Yup," Dot agreed. "My siblings and I made some adjustments to keep up with the times."

The mice looked at the three bunk beds stacked on top of each other. But Brain wore a frown when he noticed Yakko's bed was merely a ball pit.

"Is that supposed to be Yakko's bed?" Brain addressed, pointing the suit's hand over to the ball pit.

Dot hummed and nodded in response. The smaller mouse rolled his eyes. "I bet his chiropractor is having a field day."

His eyes then darted over to a few books scattered near the bunk beds. There were a few amoral paperback romance novels that must have belonged to Yakko. But among the myriad of inappropriate literature laid the cover of a particular picture book that featured a colorful red and green caterpillar. The innocent-looking bug caught Brain's attention and he gingerly picked up the book. As he inspected the book cover, his mind began to flashback to the early years of his acting career.

Warner Movie Lot, 1992

Pinky skipped gaily, tugging Brain by his wrist as he led his roommate over to the iconic yellow and red water tower that lay in the heart of the movie studio. Brain stared up at the tower, trying his best to conceal his fear of the Warner siblings.

The mice just started their work as actors after a plan to take over the world gone wrong had serendipitously landed them starring roles in an upcoming variety show called Animaniacs, which was set to air the following year. Brain intended to use this opportunity of acting in a prestigious television program to gain the admiration of the masses who would pledge their unyielding loyalty to him as Earth's leader. However, the megalomaniacal mouse rarely interacted with the other co-stars and crew members. His years in the lab instilled a distrust towards humans that was hard to shake off, and he mostly kept to himself. But Pinky seemed to be living his best life on the set. Always chatting with the cast and crew members and charming them with his cheerful disposition.

While on the set, Brain heard numerous horror stories from various crew members about the three toon children who recently escaped from the water tower and caused all sorts of chaos all over the movie lot. And it just so happened that one of Pinky's newfound friends was the Warner sister, Dot.

She initially invited Pinky over to the water tower to play dress-up, but the obtuse mouse insisted that he bring along Brain as well, and the girl was not opposed to having an extra guest in her home.

The mice arrived at the bottom of the water tower. Brain stared up at the yellow and red water tank, calculating how he and Pinky could reach the top. He regretted not bringing his human suit along for the playdate. But before he could come up with a plan, the water tank began to descend as if it was an elevator. Once the tank hit the ground, the Warner Bros. shield opened to reveal Wakko and Dot wearing admittedly adorable bellboy uniforms. Pinky clapped his hands and hopped on each foot upon seeing two of the Warners siblings.

"Going up?" Wakko inquired.

"What other option do I have?" Brain dryly remarked as he followed Pinky through the door. Once the mice entered the water tower, Dot slammed the door shut and Wakko pulled the lever, causing the water tank to ascend back to its original place.

Wakko and Dot swiftly took off their uniforms to reveal their regular attire; Wakko dressed in their signature oversized blue sweater and backward red cap while Dot wore her pink skirt and yellow flower hair tie.

The Warner sister approached Pinky and scooped him up into her hands. "Oh, it's so good to see you again!" She chirped as she twirled around, causing the lanky mouse to laugh heartily.

"Thank you for inviting Brain and me over to your house. Narf!" Pinky exclaimed. "Oh, I know we're going to all have a fun-fun, silly-willy time together!"

"I should show you my new playhouse and all the doll clothes I recently bought!" Dot suggested.

"Oh, that sounds like tons of fun!" Pinky merrily replied.

Brain looked over at the two with a raised brow. While he was secretly glad that Pinky was occupied in his own inane activities, he was at a loss of what to do. He was stuck in the infamous water tower and had to endure the chaos of the Warners for who knows how long.

But his ponderings ceased the moment he was scooped up in the hands of the middle Warner sibling. He looked over at Wakko, who must have sensed his loneliness from being excluded from Pinky and Dot's antics.

"Can we hang out together?" Wakko asked with twinkling eyes.

Brain glanced at Wakko and didn't know what to make of the young toon. After listening to the various stories about him, he was the most chaotic and violent of the trio, always quick to whack people with a mallet or any other cartoonish weapons at their disposal. The mouse decided that it would be best to appease the middle child in the hopes of forging a solid acquaintance so that he would not face their wrath.

"I would be delighted to accompany you in whatever activities you have in store." Brain answered with a nervous smile.

"Great!" Wakko cheered, leaping from the floor while holding Brain in their grasp. He bounced over to the couch.

"We could share my snacks and read my favorite story of all time!" Wakko said as he placed the mouse on the sofa before bounding over to the refrigerator. Only seconds have passed when he returned to the couch with a whole platter of different snacks: bags of chips, bananas, different types of cheeses, pudding, and cookies.

Brain stared at the small buffet laid out on the coffee table before looking back at Wakko, who reached into their red cap and took out The Hungry Caterpillar and gave it to him.

The small mouse inspected the cover of the book before glancing back at the snacks and over to Wakko. "Well, I can understand your enthusiasm over this particular book."

"I have never related to any character as much as that caterpillar." Wakko declared with a nod.

"I see," Brain muttered. "Well, to make this activity more interesting, why don't we take turns reading."

"Sounds fun!" Wakko agreed.

For the next five minutes, Brain and Wakko read aloud the story about a caterpillar with an enormous appetite who then turned into a beautiful butterfly. As they took turns reading, Brain noticed the glimmer of joy in Wakko's eyes as he observed the colorful illustrations. Perhaps the young toon was not as bad as he thought and was unfairly mischaracterized by the other studio workers. Once they were finished with the story, they heard the door open. The two glanced over to see Yakko Warner entering the water tower.

Once the eldest Warner shut the door behind him, he glanced around his abode to see his siblings interacting with their co-stars and, presumably, friends. WIth Wakko sitting with Brain and Dot dressing Pinky up in a pink flower hat and purple sunglasses.

"Oh, I didn't know we had company over!" He exclaimed as he gazed at the mice.

Wakko bounced off from the couch and landed in their brother's arms. "Big brother, you've come home!"

Yakko laughed as he carefully placed Wakko back on the ground. "I was busy filming an important song segment about the countries of the world."

"A song about countries? That'll never catch on." Wakko disagreed, giving their older brother a shove.

"Oh, we'll see about that, baby sib." Yakko playfully ruffled Wakko's cap.

"Yakko!" Dot exclaimed, tackling her older brother in a surprise hug.

"Hey, sis!" Yakko replied as he hugged her back. He then glanced over at the two mice: The lanky mouse that wore a purple scarf and the big-headed mouse that was on the couch. "And who else do we have here?"

"Our new co-stars and our new friends," Wakko answered confidently.

Yakko's eyes lit up when he figured out who they were. "Oh yeah, Binky and the Pain, is it?"

"Actually, we're Pinky and The Brain!" Brain corrected as he hopped off the couch and trotted over to the siblings. "But rest assured, Sakko, we're not only your co-stars and acquaintances, but we're the future world leaders-"

"Actually, it's Yakko." The eldest Warner corrected with a pointed hand.

"Right, and now you know how it feels to have your name mispronounced." Brain curtly acknowledged.

"Eh, fair enough." Yakko shrugged in agreement.

"So, now that we're all here, what should we do next?" Dot asked excitedly.

Wakko looked over at the mice and smiled. "Could you guys take us to McDonald's?" He asked.

"What?" Brain sputtered. "Pinky and I don't have enough money to pay for such frivolities, and our next paycheck won't come in until Friday!"

"Oh, there's no need to worry about that, I've got ya covered!" Yakko assured as he took out a brown sack full of money from his hammerspace. "Scratchy is already busy with his patients and we need someone to take us out for some fast food!"

Dot approached the mouse, batting her glowing black eyes and wearing the most adorable pout. "Oh, pretty please Brain!" She pleaded in a cutesy voice.

Brain crossed his arms and frowned, refusing to cave into Dot's powerful cuteness. "Pinky and I have important work to do soon back at the lab!"

"Like watching the latest episode of Seinfeld?" Pinky asked.

"No, Pinky. Our plans for global conquest!" Brain curtly replied.

"But you can't take over the world on an empty stomach!" Wakko argued.

"Ugh, I'd rather consume my hat than McDonald's," Brain sourly remarked.

Yakko carefully inspected Brain with the intention of breaking down the mouse's barriers until he gave in. He tapped his siblings' shoulders and grinned mischievously and began to chant. "McDonald's! McDonald's!"

Soon Wakko and Dot joined their brother in the chanting. "McDonald's! McDonald's! McDonald's!

Brain's eye twitched at the incessant shouts. The Warners began to circle around the mouse. The moment Pinky joined the toon siblings in their parade, that was the final straw. Brain raised his fists and the air and shouted. "Oh, all right! Pinky and I will take you out for some cheap fast food!"

The Warners bounced around the mice in jubilation. While Pinky eagerly clapped, Brain pouted as he bitterly crossed his arms once more.

"Don't be so glum, Brain!" Wakko said in earnest as he picked the grumpy mouse up. "Maybe some happy meals will cheer you up!" He explained while placing the mouse on top of their head.

"Ready to go, sibs and mouse friends!" Yakko asked excitedly.

"Ready!" Dot chirped as she scooped Pinky up in her hands and placed him on top of her head.

"Ready!" Wakko added with a thumbs up.

"Affirmative." Brain tiredly sighed, gripping his paws on the red hat.

"Narf!" Pinky called out.

"I'll take that as a yes," Yakko mentioned. "Now let's roll!"

Yakko opened up the door, hopped on the railing, and leaped off. Wakko and Dot followed suit as they jumped off the water tower to catch up with their big brother. Pinky cheered while Brain let out an anxious "nyaaaah" as they made their descent. Fortunately, the Warners bounced upon the concrete ground with great nimbleness.

"Boingy! Boingy! Boingy!" The Warners chorused as they bounced around the movie lot. Both mice grabbed onto their respective toon siblings as they moseyed about.

On their trail, they passed by Slappy Squirrel, who walked in the opposite direction whilst carrying her green purse. The veteran toon star smirked as she waved at the three children and the two lab mice. "Have fun, you crazy kids." She called out.

As the Warners continued on their merry way, the loud shriek of the officer's whistle shattered their merriment. They looked over to see Ralph the security guard, running up to them as fast as he could with a comically large net.

"Yikes!" The Warners shouted. Revving up their legs, they made a mad dash out of the studio, carrying the mice along with them.

"Alright children, we better make this trip to McDonald's a quick one. For Pinky and I must return to the lab by seven."

"Why Brain?" Wakko asked. "What are you and Pinky doing at seven?"

"The same thing we do every night, Wakko," the mouse grimly replied. "Try to take over the world!"

"Hey, Brain!" The Warner sister sang while snapping her fingers. "Earth to Brain, you come in?"

The mouse shook his head as he looked over at Dot, who cradled Pinky in her hands. His perception of her and her siblings has drastically changed over the years. His fear of the toon children's playful and unpredictable nature was replaced with endearment. Brain regained his focus and returned to the present. "My apologies dear, I was just reminiscing."

"Totally understandable," Dot replied with a warm smile.

The mouse placed the picture book back on top of the pile and approached the Warner sister.

"So did you find all the things you were looking for?" Brain inquired.

"Actually, I lied to you. I only said that just so I could get a ride on your mechanical human suit." Dot confessed without a twinge of regret. "Are you ready to head over to the park?"

"Yes, always." Brain replied flatly as he exited the water tower. After Dot closed the door, he picked her back up, with Pinky in tow, and they flew off.

Back at the studio entrance, Yakko and Wakko were in a heated game of checkers when they heard the loud jet engines purring up above. Brain descended from the air, landing on the sidewalk on the suit's two feet.

"Thanks for the lift, Brain!" Dot chirped as she hopped off from the suit and passed Pinky back to the big-headed mouse, who securely tucked him in the front pocket.

"So, how about we head over to the park for some wholesome fun and merriment?" Brain asked with a wave of his mechanical arm.

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot cheered as they bounced around the suit. With a resounding yes from the siblings, they started to make their way over to the park.

Dot approached Yakko. "Can you give me a piggy-back ride? I wanna save all of my energy for when we arrive at the park."

"Your wish is my command, princess," Yakko answered as he propped his sister onto his back. Dot giggled contentedly as she adjusted herself on top of her brother's shoulders.

Wakko sadly looked on. He couldn't help but feel left out by the sibling bonding. "Can I get a turn soon?"

Yakko looked over at Wakko with sympathetic eyes. "Of course sib, but you have to wait a little while."

While Wakko was relieved that Yakko had not forgotten about them, their shoulders sagged with impatience.

Brain noted the middle child's forlorn frown. The mouse knew exactly how to cheer Wakko up. "You don't need to wait any longer, sport." Using the man-suit, Brain lifted Wakko up and placed the middle child on his shoulders.

"This is awesome!" Wakko cheered, raising their hands in the air.

Pinky looked up from the pocket. "Aww, can I have a turn soon?"

"Don't worry, Dad," Wakko assured. He tried to reach for Pinky, but Brain recognized what he was doing and grabbed Pinky for them, placing the taller mouse into Wakko's hands. Wakko then placed Pinky on top of their hat.

Yakko looked up at Wakko and the mice and smiled. As he carried Dot, he thought of a wonderful idea.

"Hey Brain, I betcha Dot and I will get to the park first." He declared with a mischievous grin. The teen revved up his feet and began to race down the sidewalk. Dot giggled as she held onto her older brother.

"Last one there is a rotten egg!" Dot shouted gleefully.

Wakko looked at their siblings, who were already many paces ahead, and frowned. "Brain, we have to beat them!"

"Don't worry, Wakko," Brain assured. "For I have an ace up my sleeve."

The mouse pressed the buttons on the control panel, causing the jet engines to fire up. A few seconds later, the mechanical human suit rose a few feet above the sidewalk.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Wakko exclaimed.

"Hold on, you two!" Brain ordered as he took off.

Wakko gripped one hand on the suit's shoulder and the other hand on top of Pinky, securing him onto the red cap. The lanky mouse and the middle Warner cheered as they flew above the sidewalk. The trio managed to catch up with Yakko and Dot within seconds. Gripping the control lever, Brain maneuvered the suit's arm and swiftly caught the other two Warners in his hold. The pudgy mouse steered the controls and lifted up the suit to a higher elevation.

Yakko and Dot laughed as they were reunited with Wakko. Pinky felt his eyes watering at the sight of the siblings enjoying themselves while Brain drove the suit. Once Brain located the park, he made a swift descent towards the destination. Pinky and the Warners cheered as they approached the park. Brain slowly turned off the jet engines as he landed near an empty picnic bench. He was able to land the suit on both feet while carrying his passengers.

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot leaped off of the suit and landed on the ground. "We won! We won! We won!" They chanted as they bounced around the picnic table.

Pinky and Brain smiled at the children. They took in the beautiful scenery of the green trees and bushes among the luscious green grass. The mice were eager to have a grand old time at the park with the Warners.

Yakko and Dot reached into their hammerspaces and took out their kites. Yakko's kite had rainbow colors, while Dot's kite had purple and gold stripes. At that moment, Pinky had an idea. "Hey kids, can I fly with you?" He asked.

"Of course!" Yakko answered. "But I don't know if I have a mouse-sized kite anywhere."

"No, no, no," Pinky gently dismissed. "I mean, I want to fly on the kite!"

Yakko and Dot looked at each other before turning their gaze back at the lanky mouse. "Well, in that case, I don't see why not!" Yakko said as he took out some tape from his hammerspace.

"Fly on my kite, Pinky!" Dot cheered as she laid out her kite.

Pinky happily hopped onto the kite and spread himself out. He always had fun when Brain taped him up tight to a chair or the television screen during past plans for global conquest, but the thought of being taped to a kite exhilarated him. "Now don't hesitate to use extra tape! Zort!"

Meanwhile, Wakko took out a blue frisbee and approached Brain. "Hey Dadoo, wanna play frisbee with me?"

"Certainly," Brain answered with a small smile.

Wakko handed the frisbee over to Brain. The mouse gently held the plastic disc in his grip and looked out to Wakko, who ran about twenty feet away.

"Ready!" The toon child shouted.

Brain gripped the disc as he maneuvered the mechanical arms back. Thrusting the lever, he launched the frisbee. The blue disc glided across the air until Wakko leaped up and caught it in their mouth.

Wakko landed on all fours and sprinted down the grass like an eager dog. He then skidded to a stop when he was close to Brain, but managed to dig their heels into the grass and stop before he could collide with the mouse. Wakko contentedly dropped the frisbee in front of the suit's feet, wagged their tail a mile a minute, and panted eagerly with their tongue lolling out.

Brain snorted at Wakko's silliness. While the mouse wasn't sure what animal the Warners were supposed to be modeled after, but he was certain that the middle child inherited many traits found in the average canine. "Do you even know how to throw?"

"No throw!" Wakko replied with an ounce of ferocity in their tone. "Only give!"

The mouse rolled his eyes. "Alright, I think it's high time someone taught you the art of throwing."

With a wave of the mechanical hand, Brain commanded Wakko to stand up, to which the middle child eagerly obeyed.

"Now, the most important element of frisbee is about using the flick of your wrist to impart gyroscopic stability and to accelerate the mass of the disc to a certain velocity."

Wakko tilted his head in confusion.

Brain dejectedly sighed. He thought that his scientific jargon sounded rather groovy. But if he was to properly bond with Wakko, he needed to meet them halfway. "To put it in terms that you can understand, you must be able to use your arm and wrist to throw the frisbee so that it can glide in the air at a decent speed."

Wakko's eyes glistened. "Oh, now I get it!"

To demonstrate, Wakko whipped his arm and released the frisbee, which wobbled in the air and landed straight into a tree with an unceremonious thud.

Brain looked at the disc, which laid limp by the tree trunk, and back at Wakko. "We have a lot of work to do…"

Yakko and Dot were flying their kites, with Pinky strapped to Dot's purple and gold kite. The lanky mouse laughed heartily as he flew up in the air and admired the city from a bird's eye view.

But the fun came to a halt when Pinky and the kite crashed into the tree branch.

Yakko and Dot looked up at the tree with concern for the lanky mouse. "Are you okay, Pinky?" Dot called out, using her gloved hands to amplify her voice.

Spitting out the leaves from his mouth, Pinky responded to the girl's inquiry. "I'm right as rain, sweetie!" But Pinky spoke too soon as he struggled to liberate his limbs from the adhesive of the cheap tape.

"Uh Brain," Pinky called out from above. The big-headed mouse turned to see his partner stuck at the top of the tree.

Brain retrieved the kite (and his partner) from the tree branch and descended back to the ground. He carefully took the tape off of Pinky's limbs, placing the adhesives in his pocket to be disposed of later. Pinky hopped off of the kite and landed in the palm of Brain's robotic hand. Brain carefully picked Pinky up by the fur on his back and gently placed him in his front coat pocket.

"That oughta hold you." Brain told his partner.

Pinky chuckled. "That's funny. You always say that to me before our role-playing sessions."

Upon hearing the innuendo, Yakko looked over at the mice and stared at the fourth wall. He pressed his right hand to his lips, gave it a smooch, and flung it to the side. "Goodnight, everybody!" He exclaimed.

Brain felt the heat rise up in his cheeks at Yakko's iconic catchphrase. "Pinky, the park is a family establishment! There will be no mention of our licentious activities in front of the children!" he berated, pointing over to the Warners, who only giggled in response.

Yakko let out a contented sigh as he fished out his pen and notepad from his hammerspace. Clicking the top of the pen, he placed a checkmark on the box next to 'Making a witty response to a suggestive remark', marking off another goal on his To-Do List. The teen noted the second most important thing he needed to do next. Revisiting a certain segment that was sadly absent from the reboot.

Yakko then turned over to his younger siblings. "So, who wants to help me find the Wheel of Morality?"

"I do!" Dot exclaimed.

"Maybe later," Wakko replied as he fiddled the frisbee. "I wanna play with Dadoo some more, and I think I'm getting the hang of frisbee!" To test out their theory, Wakko threw the frisbee, which landed square in the middle of Brain's mechanical suit and ricocheted back to Wakko, hitting them square in the face. Despite the injury, Wakko eagerly grinned at their siblings and gave them a thumbs up.

Yakko noticed how happy Wakko was with the mice and shrugged. "Suit yourself, middle sib."

"Now let's go!" Dot exclaimed as she tugged at her older brother's wrist. Yakko smiled at his sister as they raced down the walkway in search of the coveted Wheel of Morality.

Wakko waved at their siblings as they bounced off into the distance before turning back towards the mice. He threw the frisbee once more at Brain, who was caught off guard by when the frisbee smacked him on his forehead.

"Ow!" Brain remarked as he took his own hand to soothe his head.

"Sorry!" Wakko replied with a sheepish smile.

"It's fine," Brain dismissed as he approached the middle child. "You have a lot of energy in your throws, but now it's time I taught you how to aim properly."

With Pinky now secure in his suit pocket, Brain returned his game of frisbee with Wakko. The pudgy mouse piloted the suit as he approached Wakko, and guided his mechanical arm to properly show them how to hold a frisbee.

"Now you want to grip the disc like this," He explained, as he moved Wako's hand to make a backhand grip on the frisbee. Wakko watched carefully with their tongue sticking out as he listened to Brain.

"With the disc secure, you want to position your arm backward." Brain continued as he carefully guided Wakko's arm towards their left side. "And then you flick your arm back towards your right and release the disc."

Wakko moved his arm and flicked the disc, which smoothly glided in the air for about ten feet before making a gentle landing onto the grass. The middle child flashed a proud smile at the frisbee and then back at the mice, who gave encouraging smiles in return.

For the next ten minutes, Brain and Pinky enjoyed themselves as Wakko's throwing greatly improved. They started out with five-foot throws and eventually managed to find a steady rhythm as they made more long-distance throws.

Brain tossed the frisbee twenty feet over to Wakko, who caught it in the grip of their gloved hand with ease.

Wakko grinned as he looked back at the mice. "Go long!" Wakko shouted as he made a particularly long throw.

Brain maneuvered the man-suit fast enough to where the frisbee would fall. Taking a big leap into the air, he caught the frisbee but lost his footing. As the suit tripped over to the grass, Brain fell out from his controller's chair, with Pinky following suit.

The two mice tumbled about thirty feet away from the suit and landed near the base of a tree, causing the bluebirds to scatter. Colorful stars swirled around their heads when a blue feather gracefully fell on top of Brain.

Brain pondered for a moment, recalling his childhood days in the meadow when he spent his free time playing 'keep-it-up' with any feather or leaf he stumbled across. As much a The big-headed mouse took a deep breath and blew the feather off of his head. The feather rose up a good measure above the air before descending again. Suddenly, Brain felt his playfulness reemerging after laying dormant for Lord knows how long and decided to keep the feather up in the air.

Pinky's vision eventually cleared and the first thing he saw was his partner merrily blowing at a blue feather while wearing the most endearing smile.

"What are you doin', Brain?" Pinky inquired.

"Playing a little game," Brain answered, his eyes still focused on the blue feather. "The objective is to keep the feather up in the air for as long as possible."

"Zounds, Brain, that looks like fun!" Pinky cheered. The mouse bounced back on his feet and trotted over towards Brain.

The big-headed mouse stared up at the feather, calculating where it would land. He was determined to keep it up for as long as possible. Before he could make his move, Pinky stood beside him and puffed out enough air to launch the feather up to an additional six inches.

Pinky gave a goofy grin at Brain, who chuckled in response.

They took turns blowing enough air to prevent the feather from falling onto the grass. The two mice quickly became so invested in the game that they lost track of their responsibility watching over the Warners.

When the feather was close to landing on a nearby bush, Pinky and Brain collided with each other and fell backward. The mice groaned as the feather swiftly landed next to them. Rubbing their heads, the mice looked at each other and laughed joyously. Brain got up first and eagerly helped Pinky get back up.

Just as the mice stood up, a giant net stealthily emerged from the bushes and swooped them up. Fear and alarm overtook the couple as they struggled in the chafing ropes of the net. Thrown into a fit of confusion, they were unaware of the men in white lab coats until they spoke up.

"Looks like we found the perfect specimens for the separation experiment," A red-headed scientist said.

"You know, it's a good thing it was delayed to this evening. These little mice would make excellent candidates!." The scientist with square glasses remarked.

Pinky and the Brain exchanged terrified glances. The experiment they thought they had evaded was put on hold. A weekend filled with light-hearted antics and bonding was to end with the close mice being separated for an entire month.

Brain looked outside the picturesque park through his roped prison, recalling the tragic day when he was stolen from his family in the meadows as a young field mouse and was unceremoniously hauled away to Acme Labs. Where his innocence vanished and was resigned to the fate of a mistreated laboratory rodent.

Raw determination grappled his fear. Brain refused to allow history to repeat itself again. He refused to be separated from his family once more.

"Hurry Pinky," Brain called out. "Use every ounce of strength you have to tear a hole through this net so we could still escape while we have the chance!"

But the red-headed scientist swiftly picked them up by their tails and carelessly placed them into an iron cage.

Pinky and Brain ran over to the bars. Out from the horizon, they saw Wakko skipping along, carrying the frisbee in their hands. The mice reached out their arms through the bars, using every ounce of energy in their voices to alert the middle child.

"Wakko!" Pinky cried out as tears poured from his eyes. "Please help us!"

"Please, my child! You must do something!" Brain shouted, his voice laced with desperation. "You're our only hope!"

Wakko's ear stood up the moment he heard their frightened pleas. He scanned over the horizon to see the two mice he dearly loved imprisoned in the iron cage carried by the adults in white lab coats. The scientists walked over to the back of the windowless van and placed Pinky and Brain into the back along with the other recently captured field mice.

Wakko felt their heart breaking. Pinky and Brain gave them and their siblings a wonderful and memorable weekend. He recalled Brain standing up to them and taking a last-minute trip to the library so he could get the drawing back. Even Pinky showed his true colors of being a loving and reliable guardian. The mice helped Wakko out and now it was time to return the favor.

"Hey! You let those mice free!" The middle child shouted, running as fast as he could to reach the scientists. "They're my dads!"

But the scientists ignored his pleas as they entered the front seat van. Wakko picked up their pace the moment he saw the van doors shut. But the Acme Labs van started up its engines. Before Wakko could approach the vehicle, it quickly drove from its parking spot and departed from the park.

Wakko tried to pick up his pace, but the van turned a corner and disappeared out of sight. The toon felt their heart thumping in their ribcage. He was the mice's only hope for salvation, and he failed.

Wakko fell down to their knees in defeat. their face crumpling as tears began to fall. He pulled his ears, berating himself for not saving his dads when he had the chance. Tears began to pool from the middle child's eyes. Blinking away their blurry vision, the tears streamed down their face as a sob broke.

"Hey Wakko, we found the Wheel of Morality!" He heard Yakko cheer from a distance. Wakko's stomach dropped. How was he supposed to tell Yakko and Dot that Pinky and Brain were captured?

Yakko and Dot skipped merrily with the intention of showing Wakko the coveted Wheel of Morality. But the siblings stopped in their tracks when the middle Warner didn't budge from their spot and their frame shaking.

Yakko carefully approached Wakko in an earnest effort to alleviate their woes. "Hey Wakko, what's wrong?" He comforted his sibling.

"The Acme Labs scientists took Pinky and Brain away!" Wakko tearfully explained. Yakko and Dot gasped in shock.

Wakko sniffled. "I-I tried to keep up, but the van was too quick…"

Yakko and Dot sympathetically looked on, not wanting the middle child to feel too hard on themselves.

"Dad and Dadoo are in trouble and we need to do something!" Wakko cried. Yakko instinctively knelt down and rubbed his siblings back in a soothing manner.

Dot's face scrunched up as she pondered. "Acme Labs…" She muttered to herself as she retrieved her smartphone from her pocket. She opened up the internet and searched in the lab. She managed to find the establishment's address.

"The lab is only a few miles from here!" Dot informed her older siblings. "If we can hail a cab, then we'd be able to break them out before sunset!"

Yakko grinned at his sister, feeling proud of her initiative. "Sibs, if we want to save our family, then we gotta act quickly!" Yakko announced as he bounced up on his feet.

Wakko beamed at their brother, elated that eldest Warner finally recognized the mice as family. "You mean it, Yakko?"

Yakko placed a gentle hand on his sibling's shoulder. "Of course. They looked out for us, so it's only fair that we look out for them!"

The eldest Warner offered a helping hand, and Wakko immediately clapped it and rose on their feet. With the aid of their siblings, the middle child was determined to save their two dads.

Dot approached the sidewalk and turned over to the oncoming white taxi van. She stuck her hand out in the air and gave a loud whistle. "Taxi!" She hollered.

Right on command, the white taxi pulled up to the sidewalk. The doors to the minivan opened and the Warners clamored into the backseat.

"Where to?" The driver asked.

"Acme Labs," Dot gravely commanded. "And put the pedal to the metal!"

-                     -                        -                             -                            -

The mice were surrounded in darkness. Pinky and Brian were locked in a protective embrace throughout the duration of the car ride over to Acme Labs.

Brain listened to the frightened cries of the other field mice. He couldn't help but remember the day he was locked away in the Acme Labs vehicle to be separated from his family and home. He never thought that he would relive that painful day.

Pinky held Brain close as his mind raced with all sorts of worrying things. The weekend wasn't supposed to end like this! He and Brain should be back at the park and watching the Wheel of Morality. Brain should be bringing up the proposal to officially adopt the sweet Warner children and start a big happy family together. They should have successfully avoided the separation experiment.

Pinky felt his stomach drop. He didn't like the idea of being separated from his dearest Brain. He remembered the different times he and Brain were apart. Snowball was almost successful when he offered him the amusement park. Then there was the time Brain had a mid-life crisis and insisted that he was better off with his career as a ski instructor. Or the time his hit musical caused Brain to run off. But worst of all was when Mr. Itch planned on separating him and Brain for the rest of eternity.

He detested the thought of not being by Brain's side for an entire month.

"Brain…" Pinky wobbled. "Poit! I haven't been this scared since Mr. Itch tried to separate us for good!"

Brain tightened his grip around Pinky at that painful memory. "The feeling is understandable, dear Pinky," He sullenly replied as he cast his eyes downward.

"And we were just going to start our new lives as parents," Pinky sadly added. As the words escaped his lips, he felt a small ray of hope. "Troz! Maybe the Warners will bust us out of here before the experiment starts!"

Brain's ears twitched at Pinky's relentless optimism, even in the face of hopelessness. The mouse loved to think that he and his partner further strengthened their relationship with the three toons, perhaps to the point of something familial.

The pudgy mouse looked back at Pinky with a small smile. "Perhaps you're right."

But the van screeched to a grinding halt.

Pinky looked through the bars, his long tail wagging excitedly. "Maybe they'll bust through the doors right now and take us back to the studio!"

The backdoors flew open to reveal the same scientists who stole their freedom.

Pinky retreated from the iron bars and launched himself onto Brain with open arms. The smaller mouse instinctively wrapped his arms around his partner's lanky figure, holding on as tight as he could. Their hopes of escape were snuffed out.

"Well, the thought was nice while it lasted." Brain commented in a dejected tone.

One of the scientists picked up their cage and swiftly placed it on a metal cart. Pinky and Brain held each other in a protective hug as they watched the scientists place the other cages onto the cart. Brain couldn't help but notice the terrified squeaks of the various field mice who were robbed of their freedom and to be incarcerated in Acme Labs. The mouse shut his eyes. The memories of his arrival at Acme Labs to the horrific experiments he underwent returned to him.

The first night spent in the cold steel cage. The learned helplessness experiment. Being strapped to a chair and watching painfully bad political advertisements. Receiving painful shocks from the stunning plate in an earnest attempt to obtain some cheese. He and Snowball riding a red toy car that launched straight into a brick wall, rendering them horrifically injured. Undergoing the gene splicer while wrapped in bandages. Losing his first friend after a terrible falling out. Being force-fed cigarettes against his will. Having to pilot a faulty toy plane that ended up becoming a major fire hazard.

Brain's breathing hitched. Thankfully, he felt Pinky's paw lovingly stroke his back in a soothing motion. The pudgy mouse rested his head in his partner's chest. He had to savor the physical comfort while he still could.

Pinky, too, thought about his arrival at the lab. When the scientist first purchased him from the pet store, he thought nothing of it and assumed that he was going on vacation. But as the nights passed, the reality of the situation dawned on him that he might never see his family again. Pinky was thankful that Brain helped him reunite with his folks years later, but for the longest time, he thought that would not be the case. He whimpered at the thought that he might be separated from Brain and the Warner siblings for good.

Once the cages were transferred from the vehicle and onto the cart, the scientist wheeled them away into the research facility.

Pinky started to sob when the fluorescent lights of the lab hit. Brain looked over at Pinky with worried eyes. Although emotions were not his strong suit, he was determined to provide his roommate with some level of comfort.

"Have courage, Pinky," Brain consoled his partner, gingerly caressing his paw. "It'll only be for a month, and we'll soon be reunited."

Pinky gave Brain's paw a tight squeeze in return. "I-I'll try, Brain." He stammered as tears poured from his eyes.

The cart stopped in the middle of the hallway and one of the scientists opened up their cage.

Brain squeezed his eyes tight as he clung to Pinky. While he was aware that being placed in a separate cage that included all of the basic necessities for an entire month was bearable in comparison, being separated from Pinky proved to be its own type of torture in and of itself.

"I love you, Brain." Pinky warbled.

Brain's stomach dropped when he heard those words. Gathering up enough courage, Brain made his feelings known before he was to be separated from the most important thing in this world.

"I love you too, Pinky." Brain solemnly whispered.

The small door to the iron cage opened and a gloved hand dipped down to retrieve one of his victims. The hand tried to pull the mice apart but was having difficulty. Brain instinctively sank his teeth into the gloved hand to retaliate.

The scientist yelped as swiftly yanked his hand out of the cage. "Looks like we've got a biter." He told his associate.

The other scientist snaked his hand through the opening and swiftly grabbed Brain. Pinky's eyes widened when he saw Brain in the clutches of one of his captors. When the other scientist reached his hand into the cage, Pinky was determined to fight back. But the scientist proved to have quick reflexes as he secured his grasp around the lanky mouse and plucked him from the cage.

Brain struggled to release his arms from the scientist's grasp but found it difficult to squirm his way out. He looked over to see Pinky squirming in the other scientist's hold whilst looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Brain!" Pinky cried out.

Brain stared at his partner as they were forcibly separated by the callous scientists.

"Pinky…" He exhaled, tears dampening his ivory cheeks. Brain watched helplessly as he was carried away into a testing room.

A scientist with blonde braided hair shut the door right away. Brain inspected the room and the many white coats. Two of the head scientists he recognized. The older gentleman with silver-grey hair and a middle-aged woman with brown hair that was held together in a ponytail. There were six other scientists, all of them in their early twenties and straight out of college.

The red-headed scientist placed Brain on when the middle-aged scientist with red hair cleaned the tip of his right ear with a disinfectant wipe. Just as he twitched at the moist sensation, he felt a hard sting when the scientist pierced his ear with a silver metal tag.

The mouse was overcome with shame. While the piercing was far less painful than the time he was branded with the black A tattoo on his leg during his youth, it wounded his pride just as much. The silver ear tag was another cruel reminder that he was not a mouse with autonomy and ambition, but a mere piece of property to a corporate laboratory.

"Subject A-93," The woman muttered as she scribbled his notes onto the clipboard. Brain grimaced at his slave name.

The older scientist grabbed Brain from the table. He walked over towards a glass cage that was placed in the middle of the room, opened up the top cover, and lowered the mouse inside.

Brain inspected the prison he was to reside in for the next month. The ground was covered in straw, there was an exercise wheel, a bowl of food pellets, and a full water bottle. Not much different from his old cage. The only thing that was missing was Pinky.

The mouse stared at his reflection in each of the four sides of his glass cage. "Drat!" He muttered to himself. If he were placed in a cage similar to his green one, then he would easily have picked the lock with his tail and made a daring mission to rescue Pinky.

Brain ran to the side of the cage and angrily pounded on the glass wall, desperate to make an escape.

He saw two of the scientists talking to each other as they scribbled down in their notes. Brain peered at the older man's lips as he spoke.

"Over the course of the month, we will be studying the emotional intelligence and cognitive thinking of the common laboratory mouse and how it will cope with a month of being separated from its closest partner."

"No need to remind me," Brain bitterly remarked, knowing full well his sarcasm would go unnoticed by the scientists.

The mouse paced around the straw floor, pondering the different means of escape. There was the matter of telekinesis. Brain hoped that Pinky would use his special abilities to break free and rescue him. But the more he thought about it, the more doubtful he became. While Pinky had no issue with controlling his telekinetic powers, the only problem is that his partner's powers tend to come and go.

He then thought of the Warners. Perhaps Pinky was right, and that the Warners could liberate them from the lab. Brain was certain that he and Pinky made a great impression on them so that they would be willing to rescue them from the lab, right?

But Brain shook his head. He didn't want to get his hopes up only to be let down if they didn't show up.

The mouse looked over at the scientists, one of which was by the refrigerator. Perhaps if one of the scientists opened up the cage and lowered their arm, Brian could climb up and make a run for it. He would somehow rescue Pinky and they would make their escape from the lab.

The lid of the cage opened and placed a small plate of cheese in the center.

Brain set his sights on the slice of swiss cheese just as the scientist quickly shut the lid on top of the cage.

The mouse felt his heart slam against his chest as he stared at the large piece of swiss cheese.

Brain knew that there was no stunning plate underneath the cheese. There were no clamps or electrical wires that connected the plate to the shock device. But the familiar image was a painful reminder of the trauma he endured as a child.

He glanced over at the scientists, who were not the same ones who performed the experiment during his youth, as managed to read the head scientist's lips. "The objective of this first test is to see how the subject will react to new stimuli without the aid of his partner. During the first week of testing, we'll examine how the mouse would react to different types of food before moving on to common household items."

Brain looked back at the cheese and took a few steps back. He clutched his jagged tail, noting each zig-zag mark was the result of being electrocuted by the stunning plate. He shook his head in disbelief. This had to be some cruel trick. To be separated from his beloved Pinky only be stuck with a painful reminder of his childhood trauma.

Closing his eyes, the mouse turned away and ran towards the wall, slamming into it. Brain curled his paws into fists and began to pound at the wall in a desperate attempt to escape. With each punch, he was reminded of how utterly helpless he had become. No longer was he an ambitious intellectual with dreams of world conquest. As the punches slowed down, he stared into his reflection, reminded that he was a sad and pitiful rodent only to be used as fodder in the name of science and human curiosity.

Tears flooded his eyes and blurred his vision. Brain shook his head once more. He hated feeling vulnerable. The mouse blinked away the hot tears as he continued to pound at the glass wall. The scientists stared at the mouse with indifference as they scribbled into their notepads.

Brain fell to his knees, feeling a great sense of despair from the unfeeling researchers. Bowing his head down in defeat, the mouse continued to sob, feeling totally helpless.

AN: This is the beginning of the end of this story.

I apologize for the long hiatus. I had a lot going on with my personal life, as well as experiencing writer’s block. Fortunately, I managed to overcome that hurdle as of late, and I’m already polishing up the last two chapters, so I'm hoping to finish them as soon as possible.

This chapter was a little challenging (especially the tone change in the last third), but everything is gearing up towards the climax. I had a lot of fun putting in several references to past episodes from the original Animaniacs, the Pinky and The Brain spin-off, and the Animaniacs reboot. I also decided to place a flashback to when the mice first met the Warners because I wanted to establish how these two groups initially crossed paths and how their relationship was founded (as well as having a callback to the McDonald’s joke from Chapter Three).

To the folks who are still reading this story, thank you for your patience and I’ll do my best to wrap up the last chapters on a shorter schedule.

Thanks for reading!

[dougmeet]

SMC Clusterf***: Richmond Inn & Suites, Baton Rouge, La. Only Good Ol' Boy Hotel Group in Shreveport -- Hotels for Walmart Corp. -- Could Have Anti-White GM, Trudi Veals, F***-up The 'One-car Funeral' Which Was My 10-month Stay ...UNTIL BLACK JANITOR & COP EVICTED ME CHRISTMAS 2020!

(via Who Kicks Out Hotel Guest During Pandemic? Wyndham Hotels Richmond Inn & Suites GM Trudi Veals Baton Rouge LA, Owner SMC Hotels Group, President Delton Smith, Trademark Collection : mrjyn : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive)

Richmond Inn & Suites, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, 225-924-6500 Front Desk, 24 Hours, Trudi Veals, GM

In retaliation with protection of owners, SMC Hotels Group, Wyndham Hotels Resorts, Trademark Collection, a concerted campaign of Constructive, Self-Help Eviction and Violation of Federal , CDC Eviction Moratorium, 12.27.2020, this commemorates Trudi Veals first extortive influence of former Front Desk Clerk, Faith, her first principal conspirator.

Faith tried what the Janitor did succeed, in temporarily impressing a sullen -- from censure -- Trudi Veals had her  momentum halted by superior,  Senior Vice President of Hotel Holding company, SMC Hotels Group, John Holmstrom, who upon hearing from an ex-employee through me what had been happening, had ordered Veals to fire her Assistant, Faith, but because of Faith's faithful efforts in helping her boss, Trudi’s illegal force-out of long-term tenant (me), Veals refused, with a tbsp of lies, and with that, crossed the line of no-return, forcing, on the morning after, a pall   throughout the employees faces.  And they all blamed me, courtesy of the rumor-mongering Trudi Veals.

Dispatch one employee to preserve stability, assuage a resident offended is necessary business to corporate execs, and if they happen to stop the personally motivated machinations  of an employee like Trudi Veals, which they had no idea existed, then all the better.  Whether it was rabidly disputed, although well-known among her confidants and helpers, they knew she was lying because they’d blown it and given her free reign.

For Trudi, just groom another assistant in the final intimidation -- the same spoiled dinner which put her appetite down -- only whetted it now.

Commission, as agent of Hotel, someone with no authority, who could then be explained away as acting autonomously in whatever foolish, non-procedural lunacies he decided of his own to commit, as  what occurred with the janitor, whom she picked as her favorite, one day after Christmas Holiday Weekend,  standing in my hall among his posse commitatus, all in the presence of a silently nodding BRPD, as if to say to any question I definitely had about the absurdity of this shitshow of authority, “... n da tom perrod'f tree our  firm nah (read in Jamaican patois) ...” officer nodding, there wouldn't be an answer. Just a command by the janitor to vacate, as a paid in full, with no court writ or order or notice to leave, to pack and be gone in three hours during the height of COVID-19 lockdown and Presidential Eviction Moratorium, December 27, 2020 -- 10 months since I had, a tenant in good standing occupied legally the dwelling at Richmond Inn & Suites, Baton Rouge, La.

Flight of Ideas and Magic Thought with a virulent predilection of her fantastical imaginings; her inability to control her trait -- relating as fact, lies of incredible construction, Dalian Hotel Policies of absurdity meant to entertain her during these manic episodes which, if confronted, she would blithely revisit, delighting herself again in her shock at admitting, ‘yes, it was all true,’ --  the grievances at Richmond Inn & Suites  left unaddressed for at least the year I was there were accommodated under the management of Trudi Veals.

Two coequal haints visit themselves upon unsuspecting whitebread rubes causing chaotic dustdevils of indeterminate origin.

What number in a year?

How many in a decade?

Of what percentage in the recent past did she dispense with issues in precisely this manner?

Veals enjoyed (as i would see it perpetrated) the $250 assessment.

A rainbow of dreaming washes over me to see its filthy lucre pour from tablespoons of sugar which Trudi administers herself and stirs in that same Macbeth Witches cauldron, while she is now rendered diabetic, debited of limbs and digits -- payment for criminality which through mawkish tears to a shrill interlocutor, she will respond in her Video Sentencing, as the culmination of a life in hospitality.

Inhospitable. No matter, Judge, nor Virtual Jury, Habeas Corpus Delecti, let him / her / it prevail.

That when HIS HONOR enter through Virtual Gallery his Courtroom, Hizzoner, heard bursting from Bailiff, virtual or corporeal, motions remanding  to house arrest, not withstanding, an ankle device shackles, which she did through counsel plead, too much like slavery its burden, her ankles hurting; unto which, adjudged too late, she fell prostrate, her clangorous show farced, and from request of referent obdurate did the Seersucker clown, whose Public Defense came from her diminution of payment -- she was entitled to her Constitutional Right to an attorney --  provided freely by the court, from the unrefined cowshed, overburdened, he couldn't remember which case was hers again -- from his car, to his watch, to his heels -- and through motions improper to a stickler at home for Kramer Vs. Kramer, but not in this Federal District Court of Appeals, appellate counsel for appellant to Bard of the Bench, his days at Harvard and Oxford and his rise through the ranks, horsehair wigs, robes, bibs and gavels,

Criminal barristers will keep wigs and gowns, as the Lord Chief Justice intends to keep the current court dress in criminal proceedings. The Bar is a single advocacy profession with specialisation in particular practice areas. There is logic in having the same formal court dress, where formality and robes are required, for criminal and civil barristers... There is strong identification of the Bar of England and Wales in the public's mind and its formal dress nationally and internationally.

to Justice whose scales weild equal to the malice practiced by those whose Liberty it steals, the gavel heard in the Barrister’s Vatican, like a Solomonic Revelation brought from  unsealing  those Seven Seals -- no Branch Davidian to waste judgement further,  enthroned, not  by Holy Rood,, but Terrible Swift Sword -- the Word of Law -- and before it ,she ask Mercy, which jurisprudence disinclines, a Judicial Granting on what she was standing, on grounds that she just couldn't stand up much longer,  Honorable man in the robe she did cling to as he floated on issue to his decision, a final declination to a continuance deemed by  court; that, And hereby, on this day, now, Say:

By preponderance of irrefutable evidence and with special circumstance, a verdict of guilty, through choice of Defendant --  wishing no man to judge her, but the eminence through Law Whom Ruleth Equal  All. No Prejudice Nor Fear, did he set down sentence which should end thus: To a term no longer than that which Defendant should be incarcerated, as to  the amount of days and nights in moral turpitude she squandered her victims, he rendered the craven acts with special malice and cruelty of intent, as a mere agent Lessor of Lodgement, an Innkeeper, unlawfully with deprivation in violation of Plaintiff’s Covenant of Peaceful Existence, did she relieve.

And so by Order of the Court, she SHALL serve out her sentence under the overpass where the I-10 ends in a maze of Los Angeles’s Skid Row, in a tent where she be remandered, although not really standard, under the lowermost overhanging awning, in a place of habitation -- already, before her, the I-10 so loud and fumid, where she'd be able to think clearly throughout the ordeal.

Warranty durable, should it of necessity in its fulfillment of determinant, subsection policy of coverage to which no clause, nor likelihood of risk amortization, through those Great Bodies of Bayesian Logic, Probability Statisticians, managed to assess that which boldness demurred, with warning our proclivity of enjoyment, times of danger and lack of inhibition, such courageousness wasted of adrenalized wash, natural narcosis, which we enjoy, compared with our duty to dispatch one-quarter century of pent-up niggling, as visited our frustration, whose credit shall present us who read this, no obloquy which I caused, you hear, as that to same degree, I shall enjoy a fireplace on the side of the transcontinental dedicatory slab to the movement of all our narcotics, this land, from its West to its East, an hyperbolic Woody Guthrie pharma-colonized mixture, which is our land now, and made for you and me.

In the deep, wretched South of my birth, says Barry Hannah -- wretched, but, still howling -- like the dinning rubber meeting road of Mario Andretti on nights you hear high-whining Formulae, its Straightaway Quarters where races are won; cacophonous to God -- to the Devil such an idea of fun -- inner-perturbation become discomfit as in dreaming,  you find yourself lost in its midst, the ringing never respite,  tintinnabulation -- this starts, so you now do, clangorous noise you weren't dreaming, remember the concept of Hearth, warm like home, your stay it may see you through this place, the same way as Religion absolves, guarantees of mortals to Glory and Promise of sinning, wanting you commit  your memory as Gospel, when you from sweating awaken into a sub-tropical destination, at 90 degrees humidity, it's really not the heat, it's the torpidity which require strong one-two punch to cough-up your lunch, from economy of motion lost is gained 90 degrees insight whose side of the Highway is not paved with gold, nor paved with  sound barriers, when looking across, it is seen, the thing which precludes  asking aloud when outside, but which would provide perfect protection from eavesdropping G-Men tailing John Gotti and Sammy the Bull, who loved nothing more than eluding them through Bridge and Tunnel traffic massing upon Little Italy Gravy Joints,  FBI packing in for home; the other side, where I, from my third story watch as you, like the painting by Munch, I cannot hear, but the shape of your mouth is as though you appear, ready to scream.

I know because it happened to me, I, like you, now also deafened by sounds only Eviller ears hear, they abound on both sides of the Slab, I-10, where you hear -- its squeals, through the name of the One, it to you hearkens with dread, and dead cursed squall, its sequel, again, and once more, it screams: Trudi Veals!

You late check-ins may wish her, or beware (by reading) The Curse of Richmond Inn & Suites, a Wyndham Hotels and Last Resort Trademark Collection, or the story of Trudi Veals. She is most simply recognized by her bromidic, counterfeit deficiency of presence, resembling the Executive doubles, who, saved by the Plague and its Social Distancing, indispensable to onerous owners of Inns and Suites which are inhospitable and untenable, and cannot be defended. Though Katrina would finish a Century of Death denied it by five years with interest, and finally restore it through penalty of profiteering, abusive mobs, unlike the present Gallows Humored fable, 'Ring Round the Rosie,' illustrative of Corporate Raiders and bottom-tier Hoteliers, whose review provides, simply through teetering acquisition by newly installed CEO, for reasons illustrated by its janitor, Mike, with two unopposable thumbs, the minimum rating it can receive is 'Two Thumbs Down.' SMC Clusterfuck, only Good Ol' Boy Hotel Investment Group of the Shreveport Country Club, Marina, building Hotels for Sam, over to Alabama, Walmart Corp., right in their back yard, who through anti-white racist tending by a General Manager of one-quarter century employ, Mrs.Trudi Veals, to fuck up the 'one car funeral' which was my brief 10-month stay at his lodge,  Richmond Inn & Suites, a Wyndham Trademark no one wants to steal. But everyone wants to read what really went on in the NEW Hospitality Horror Mystery Novella:  The Curse of Richmond Inn & Suites Repeats - a Trademark Collection John Holmstrom, through what strikes me as sensible,  and intuitive in his initial resistance in support for Trudi Veals -- refusing to authorize her request to evict me over what was transparently fallacious.

but President, Delton Smith, Number One Son of great old man Henderson Smith who has just passed, to carry on a family business with as much respect, courtesy, decorum, and hospitality, as a preppy rich kid in a Beemer, wheeling through cherry-picked gig of 8 years at the Hyatt®, a riot of paychecks, nothing really his, everything free to take, the helm, the Presidency of Boards and even Louisiana Hotel and Lodge Association (a derelict clubhouse), even the spotlight at the Socialite event of the Season, marrying another Shreveporter, Dame of Vassar, probs.  Together through wealth and throwing money at things, may their short time together, as they settle down in a place, well, since they both hate it there, it is excellent indeed, that Delton's a Hotelier.

Grandson of former Times section editor feted at engagement party Maggie Martin Shreveport Times  Elegant black and gold invitations requested the presence of friends at the Nov. 10 engagement party for Delton Smith and Caroline Wiggins, who marry on the most glittery of evenings — New Year's Eve.Invitees gathered at the Pierremont area  home of Dr. Kurt and Prissy Grozinger with others co-hosting.

It was an evening to remember with lamb chops on the dining room table and fried oysters passed by wait staffers, the talked about offerings of the evening.

Smith and Wiggins met through mutual friends, and Smith proposed at Capella Resort near Singapore. 101 is a lucky number for

Capella as well as promising 101 alluring waterfront accommodations, the hotel opened

its doors on 10.1 - October 1st

The two went were there for wedding of friends Smith met when he worked in the city. Smith is in hotel development and Wiggins is manager at Poppy's Monograms.More:

Fireworks surprise newlyweds after Coushatta reception

Smith's parents are Harrison and Cissie King Smith. His maternal grandmother is the late Beverly King Hand, a former Times editor well remembered for revising a Times style section. The bride's parents are Susie Wiggins, of Shreveport, and Pat Wiggins.Spotted in the crowd: Brian A. and Ginny King Homza, Drs. David and Carol Clemons, George and Clare Nelson, Bobby and Maura Pugh, Andy Querbes, Gary and Lisa Love, Dr. Charles and Katherine Sale, Lounelle Black, Mary Patrick Baucum, Bill and Nancy Broyles and the groom's paternal grandparents Shelby and Adelaide Smith. Maggie Martin is a Times reporter/columnist. She can be reached by calling 820-7404. Email: mmartin@shreveporttimes.com.

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trudi

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fuckin dickhead who is a dumbass bullyhes such a fuckin delton

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[bellygunnr]

you’d finally like to learn ch.7

you're 30 minutes late to work. you're not sure if that matters once you get inside your shared office because both of your esteemed colleagues are on the floor, rummaging through old files and folders. the filing cabinets that held these piles are practically disassembled-- the drawers are arranged haphazardly around Vance and Kleiner. you skirt the edges of the mess, setting your tray of apology coffee on your desk.

they don't notice you.

and you don't really... care. not right now, anyway. the sheer amount of mess on the floor makes something in your brain cringe-- where the hell did they start? where do they end? what could drive them to such urgency as to destroy the carefully ordered backlog of studies and research? had there been a memo you missed about this?

well, if you had missed it, you sure as hell weren't going to look for it. you knew what you wanted from life, and it wasn't this. besides, it wasn't like they had explicitly--

you stop yourself. there's order to everything, provided you have the wherewithal to create it yourself. you could insert yourself between them, make your presence known, but that's...

what am i willing to put up with today? you ask yourself. i don't think it's this. i have a better idea.

you take a long drag of iced coffee, letting the slightly bitter notes cauterize your decision. then, as silently as you arrived, you walk right back out of the office.

if they really need you, they'll call. you'll check back in a couple hours at the very least.

-

the Black Mesa ventilation system was, predictably, a labyrinth. its tunnels were narrow but sometimes opened up into larger canals or turned right into slowly whirling fan blades that pulled or pushed air. you peeked out of every grate you came across- even though you've been in here an hour, you haven't left Sector C. familiar AnMat labs and offices peer back at you.

your shoulder catches on a metal corner as you cut it too close. one shaft narrows dramatically, forcing you to tuck in your elbows and bow your head. you wonder how barney crawled his way through here-- even though you were taller, he was broader by a mile. would his shoulders even fit in the vent you entered through?

you bow your head at the thought. barney had really nice shoulders-- you had the pleasure of seeing them bare exactly once so far, whilst he was helping you with weight training. his muscle was evident, but he wasn't hard angles and flat planes. no, barney had dangerous slopes and curves, soft in appearance but firm in actuality.

well, you imagined they were firm. his hands certainly were as he corrected your form or patted you on the back. at certain angles, you could see the stretch marks patterning his upper arms. a strange pattern of old scars decorated his stomach too-- that piqued your curiosity, but it hadn't been the time to ask, nor the time to pry.

you shake your head. the vent shafts had opened back up, enough so to permit you sitting upright. that probably wasn't a good sign. you peek through the slats of a grate, one conveniently placed underneath you.

unfamiliar corridor with nonsense wall markings.

definitely not Anomalous Materials.

i should turn around, you think, now that i have the space. but i don't remember how i got here.

barney's not even here and he's still distracting me, you think despairingly. aren't i supposed to be nearly 30? what the hell am i doing?

maybe this is how all first crushes or infatuations worked. now that you were settled down, accepted (mostly), and comfortable somewhere, it was time for you to latch onto the first friendly man you met and wonder if his lips were as soft as they looked. sure, you had had flings and such in grad, but they were just that-- flings. you only ever performed touch n' go's with people in the past.

you were scared of commitment. relationships were a minefield of expectations, implications, and social rules you understood less than the standard set. besides, you had committed before and gotten hurt.

more than once, it had been a trick or a joke or misfired signals. data suggested it would happen again, but as you had considered before, barney calhoun was a brand new variable. maybe he would be the one to break the pattern.

the next grate you peek through has a face staring back at you.

it's awfully familiar.

-

on some stroke of luck, it's barney to find you, which you're unsure how to feel about beyond embarrassed. after all, he had been the one to occupy your thoughts for the past 30 minutes. stained mental images of his shoulders and stomach flash helpfully in your mind, causing you to blush. it takes far too long for you to catch what he's saying.

he's gotten good at sign, at least.

"I was exploring," you say, cutting him off. "You gave me the idea."

"Did I?" Barney asks, laughing a little. "What, when we met?"

you nod, scratching your beard. you forgot to trim and shave this morning.

"Do you know how to get back?"

"Probably," you say. "Where are we?"

just as you finish signing, a deep vibrating hum overtakes the corridor. it grows in volume and intensity to the point of settling in your bones, but it's over just as quickly as it began. surprised, you look at barney for answers.

he looks... uneasy.

"They call that the test chamber. No idea what's in there, but I wager it's got somethin' to do with aliens, y'know? But you ain't supposed to be here without clearance, Doc," Barney explains, his voice suddenly patient but edged. "Hey, you wanna see the HEV suits? There's a couple still in there." He jerks his thumb behind him, that phantom edge gone and replaced with a goofy, eager lilt.

oh.

you try not to react too overtly. so this is where you'd be spending your days in the next few months? you nod, slightly excited, somewhat apprehensive.

"Great! Walk with purpose, Doc. It's on this way."

and so you fall into step behind him, striding "with purpose." barney leads you directly to a slightly closed-off room that drops off a level. within its confines stands a large contraption that further contained three pods. two were lit green and full, the third empty, shining red.

the HEV suits-- Hazardous Environment suits-- seemed to float within their pods. bright orange armour, black, indeterminable material underneath, with heavy gloves, boots, and helmets to match. you fiddle with your glasses uncertainly. despite being selected, you hadn't seen one in person yet.

they were rather unassuming to some degree, nothing belying their capabilities beyond protection. they also looked far lighter than the booklet you received suggested.

briefly, you wonder if the test chamber is where you would also undergo the looming "hazard training" in a few months.

"Got a good look, Gordon? Here, you can take this vent back to AnMat. Don't worry, I won't let anyone know you were here," Barney says, grinning good-naturedly. he pries off the grate, ushering you inside.

"Before I go," you say, clasping his shoulder and bringing him around. "I want to tell you something. Can we get drinks at my place tonight?"

barney blinks in surprise, then wiggles as he grins and nods. "'Course, Gordon! Shoot, I'm off at seven tonight. That good?"

you nod. that was perfect. without saying anything else, you fold yourself up and disappear into the HVAC system once more. hopefully, no one will have noticed your absence.

-

the grate leading back into the office falls with a messy clatter onto the smooth tile. you flinch at the sound, it grating on your ears, but force yourself to drop down after it. the impact goes straight through the soles of your shoes and into your ankles.

it hurts, but you're rewarded with two startled shouts, then laughter.

"Gordon! Goodness, I was wondering where you were," Dr. Vance says, chuckling. he's standing behind you, so you slowly turn around, glasses still held to your face. "How long were you up there?"

"Lost track of time," you say, shrugging.

"What on earth were you doing in the vents? Do you know how dangerous that is?!"

you wince. Kleiner. carefully, you put your back to your desk so you can better face your coworkers. on some level, you note that the mess of files and folders is gone. cleaned up, vacuumed back into their cabinet home.

"Look at you. You've got dust and all sorts of muck on your coat. You didn't get hurt, did you? Did you get lost?"

Kleiner has his hands on his hips even as he frets over you with a restrained fatherly aura. you entertain throwing barney under the bus very briefly, but decide against it.

you were 27. not 12.

"I only got a little lost," you admit, smiling faintly. "I ran into Barn. I think a few more runs and I'll have the layout memorized."

"Let the man breathe, Izzy. Say, did you find the route into Kleiner's lab?" Dr. Vance steps in, smiling with that always-easy expression. at your nod, he laughs heartily. "Very good! Maybe now we won't have to wait for ol' Calhoun to rescue him from lockouts. Was that your goal?"

you shrug, rubbing the back of your neck, suddenly anxious at the attention.

"Calhoun, bless his soul, is going to lead to my early death," Kleiner laments, shaking his head.

that doesn't sound very fair on barney. you scratch at your beard, the bristles rough under your fingertips. how much did you need to explain your actions?

not really very much.

"How was work?" you ask instead. they both launch into recounts of their day, which mostly involve trying to find an old study that corroborated a present-time experiment. you don't mention that the entire database is digitized.

sometimes, even paper gets lonely.

-

before you leave for the night, an hour shy of your meeting with barney, Eli Vance pulls you off to the side. you worry slightly, gnawing at your lip.

"Could you let Barney know that I might need him for some babysitting soon? My wife and I are going to the cinema this weekend, and he's usually my first option," the doctor explains, looking giddy at the mere thought.

you release a relieved breath.

"Sure," you say slowly. "I'll tell him tonight."

"Great! Thanks so much, Gordon."

-

Barney raps his knuckles across Gordon's door, sharp and brief, then rolls back on his heels, shifting his weight with uncharacteristic uncertainty. Gordon had looked awfully serious when asking if they could get drinks. Either something terrible had occurred, this was a love confession, or something else entirely.

He wouldn't really mind if it was a confession. Gordon was cute, and he was gay.

Then again, he had no way of knowing how Gordon swung, if he swung at all. He'd hate to strain their burgeoning relationship with an errant crush, but there was always the hope it would fizzle out in time. Not that they ever did.

He was a hopeless romantic in that regard. Things always looked sweeter when you could never have them.

The door opens, squeaking slightly on its hinges. Gordon smiles down at him with shining eyes, looking far more casual and relaxed than he had earlier today.

"Sorry I'm late, Gordon," Barney says, stepping in after him. "Tram takes a bit to traverse this place, y'know?"

Gordon nods in agreement. "Don't sweat it. I got takeout and drinks for us, is that alright?"

"Always is, boss," Barney says reflexively, grinning. Already he can smell the scent of the food-- boxed up and ready on the kitchen table. He hangs back while Gordon goes about divvying up the food.

Before he hands Barney his plate, however, a booklet makes it there first. It's not very thick, stamped with the Black Mesa logo, and entirely black and white.

The table chair squeaks against the tile as he finagles it underneath him.

"Hazardous Environment Suit Introductory Manual?" Barney reads aloud, blinking. "Shit, are you gonna be doin' Hazard stuff, Gordon?"

That was big. Had to be, right? Gordon was already impressive with his PhD and decisive career at 27, but this was like icing on the cake. All he knew about HEV guys were rumors and hearsay, but this suddenly made them feel very real.

"I might be," Gordon says, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "I have to pass some tests first. It's supposed to be secret, but..."

Well, then.

Barney picks through his food as he mulls this over.

"Then it's our secret," he says, pointing his chopsticks at Gordon. "And we're gonna keep trainin' that hot bod so you won't fail."

At that, Gordon's pale face goes entirely too red and he chokes on his latest morsel of food. Barney claps him on the back while trying to repress laughter, mussing up his hair once the danger is clear.

"Don't die on me yet, Gord," Barney teases, his own face dusted pink. God, he really just said that out loud.