The Almighty Force of the P4 (Now P3) Penguin Force

The Almighty Power of the P4 (now P3) Penguin force

So here I am again finally getting around to writing fics I promised my friends months ago but have procrastinated. In a short, that was originally intended to showcase my great dislike for Pinto and how I thought he was a misbehaving little shit completely derailed into character development for Pogo and Piñata and became the wholesome angst short about a family of P lacking components that you are about to read. Maybe one day "Pinto is a Punk" will be written, but until then I guess this will suffice. Please let me know what you think, I'll see you all soon.

***

Pinto huffed, grumbling an awful exchange of words and a couple of swears as he forcefully pushed himself out and away from the table. His chair screeched as it scraped across the dining room floor. His mother shouted at him as he walked away from the dinner table, he mostly managed to tune her out.

This had happened more than a few times already in the past weeks. Mama wasn't sure exactly what was wrong with her youngest child, for none of her other kids were like that when they were younger. It made her worried to certain degrees, but again, she wasn't sure what to do about it. Meanwhile, during her time of fret, Pinto had successfully stalked up the stairs in a fit and slammed his door. He flopped dramatically onto his bed and sighed. He didn't understand why no one was upset like he was.

He was turning 15 soon and his brother was still deployed out at sea with the rest of the Octonauts. And it wasn't like he didn't love his other siblings or anything, but he and Peso had always been especially close. He missed his brother, it had been months since he had returned home.

Pinto was angry. He wasn't sure what the subject of his frustration really was, the target shifted to inconveniences all the time, but he knew he was angry. Tired of sitting in the silence, he reached over, pressing play on whatever disk was in his CD player. He landed back onto his bed with the same harshness as before as loud emo-punk music started to flow into the room. It was only recently that he had found a fondness for this music, but a friend at school had recommended it and he was mostly enjoying it.

He was nodding along, sometimes even singing in time with the words for a while until he was interrupted by a knocking on the door. Pinto groaned, turning down his music and waddling over. He was expecting it to be his mother, but was a little shocked when it was instead his oldest brother, Pogo. Although Pogo was seen more than Peso, still living in the same hometown, it was still surprising to see him at home. Pinto unconsciously opened the door wider, moving back to sit on his bed so his brother could comfortably squeeze in.

"What are you doing here?" Pinto asked, a bit more rudely than intended.

Pogo laughed, gently swinging the door behind him shut as he entered, "Mamá told me you've been causing trouble." He sternly joked, moving to put an arm around Pinto.

Pinto cringed a bit at the movement, it felt way too dad-like for his comfort. He did enjoy the company of his brother, though, so he reluctantly hugged him back.

"You shouldn't show up only when I'm bad..." He nudged into him, "It encourages reward for poor behavior."

Pogo laughed again at him, "When did you become a therapist?"

Pinto laughed back this time, "If you keep asking stupid questions I'll start charging my rates."

"Ohohoho, but I'm your brother!"

"I still need to make a living! How else am I supposed to afford college like Peso?" He tried to laugh at his joke, but realized how forced it sounded.