Change.
1. (v) replace (something) with something else, especially something of the same kind that is newer or better; substitute one thing for (another).
2. (n) the act or instance of making or becoming different.
Ever since the downfall of the Inj...
"I knew you took the other stuff from the JSA headquarters, but you didn't tell me you took the pen!" Pat scolded as the three of us went up the stairs that led to the small hangout area.
"I forgot about it!" She slightly raised her voice.
"I told you it was dangerous. Somebody could have been killed." He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.
"It was a pink pen, Mr. Dugan." I remark.
"Yeah, you should've told me everything about it in the first place." Courtney emphasized as we approached the rest of the group who waited for us.
"It's not exactly hard to say, 'by the way, the reason why I don't want you guys to have the pen is that there's a literal entity, who grants wishes, living inside it!" I exclaim in frustration, taking a seat on the desk near Mike.
"You gotta be real specific with the wishing," Mike added, pointing at his father with the pen. "let me tell you, pal."
"No, Mike." Pat sternly stated. "No more wishes."
"But, Mr. Dugan, if this genie really grants wishes," Beth sheepishly smiled. "maybe he could fix the goggles?"
"Maybe even help me understand more about the Amulet of Anubis?" I add and Beth quickly nods in agreement. "Our powers?"
"Or find The Shade?" Rick suggested.
"And stop him!" Yolanda added with a grin.
Pat quickly shakes his head. "Trust me, he'd just cause more trouble."
Mike raised a brow. "Me?"
"No, not you, Mike, The Thunderbolt." He emphasized. "He's not exactly a living monkey's paw, but he's close."
The pen crackles in Mike's hands, causing me to flinch back at the sound.
"I think he can hear you." Mike nervously laughed before he shook his head. "Also, what's this got to do with monkeys?"
"Okay," Pat sighs before he held out his hand. "give me the pen."
"No."
"Now!" He firmly stated.
"You're saying I can't handle it." Mike remarked with a glare.
"Nobody can. I'm sorry, all right, Mike? I really am. It's just that The Thunderbolt, he's too unpredictable." He explained before he held out his hand again.
Mike lets out a sigh before handing the pen to Pat. In a matter of seconds, the pen suddenly evaporates into thin air and suddenly appears back into Mike's hand, emitting a playful laugh from the pen.
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I cover my mouth, stifling a laugh at Pat's look of annoyance.
Pat clears his throat, holding out his hand again. "Give me that." Mike obliges and places the pen in his hands. "Thank you."
