Valena

Make 'em Laugh (SotF)

I blink at the train while sipping the rusty wine Dev handed to everyone. I gag. I swear this tastes worse than spoilt, cheap, screw-top wine at a shady local store. Maybe it's not wine in the first place? My eyes flick between the red liquid and the zombie, who's face is stained with the blood and flesh of that poor woman. My eyes pop out of my sockets. Oh my Universe! 

"DEV!" I shriek, hurtling onto the train.

"What Ms. Akadi?" The old driver rolls his eyes, wincing at his own actions. That massive bump on his head suits him. Ha! He so deserves it! 

Coming back to the point. "One, it's Accardi, Aa-karr-di, not Akadi!" I grit my teeth. It's not difficult to remember my name! Fucking stupid arse! "Two, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?" 

A glint appears in that dull brown of his irises -- an evil, no, a sinister one. What is he upto now? 

"Dev, just tell me what have you fed all the passengers." I move my gaze to others, who are, somehow, enjoying this fluid. Just how!?

"Not all, just you, Ms. Accardi." His lips twitch up. 

He so doesn't know who he's messing with. This bitch is dying today. I lift my hands up, facing my palms towards him. And...BOO--nothing happens!? I stare at my palms, which should be glowing yellow, but they're still pale. 

I meet his mirthful eyes. He so did not! How do I atomise him now!? "WHAT THE FUCK, DEV!?" 

"Should've considered that before giving me this, Ms. Accardi," he hissed, pointing at his injury.

I should've just killed him when I had the chance. I huff and stomp to passengers' coach. Why, just why did Sylvino Fucking Accardi sign me up for this stupidity!? Can this get any worse?!

Okay, this just worsened. I gape at the completely occupied area. I don't have a fucking seat! Not to mention, it's all too loud! Like can't that old granny, singing in her screechy, tuneless voice, just Shut Up And Stop bursting my eardrums?!

Sighing, I turn on my ankle. "Dev!" 

The old man raises his eyebrows in return. "What?"

"I don't have seat. What do I do?" 

"Then get out." He shrugged. 

"Alright?" Good for me, honestly. I'd be saved from a tonne of stupidity. "But my powers? What about them?" 

"For them, Ms. Accardi, you need to complete Survival of the Fittest." 

Oh my Universe, now I need to get a seat or no powers? What like?!

"Dev, then please, I need a seat!" I widen my eyes.

"No."

I jut my lips out. Come on, old man! Vino, hell even Catalina, his three-year-old toddler, falls for this everytime.

"Your puppy face won't work on me, Ms. Accardi." He scoffs before turning around.

"Please, Dev!" 

"You know what? The only way you're getting a seat is if you make me laugh," he starts with that glint from before in his eyes. Okay, there's more to this challenge.

"But?"

The driver bends down and pulls out a small box. "But you can only use the objects in this box." 

I wave him off, taking the box from him. "Oh easy."

He shakes his head. Seriously, like, what now!?

I open the box. Okay, now I know what he means. One thing for sure though, Mr. Dev, aka the stupid old driver, is one quirky dude. My lips twist up. Think, Val, think. 

"Dev?" I call.

He faces me with a frustrated sigh. Rude.

I blow Trump into it's full size. Okay, that sounds wrong, but anyway. Then, I place everything in a line.

"You lefty or righty?" I cock up an eyebrow.

"Right," he replies, his face contorting with confusion.

I pick up the toilet brush. "Why do you never clean the toilet with your left hand?" 

"Because I'm righty?" His answer seems more like a question. 

"No." I shake my head, staring at him with deadpanned eyes. "Because a toilet brush works better!" I howl with laughter. His expression remains stoic, though. Come on, it's the funniest thing I've ever heard!

"Fine." I huff. "What did the egg say to the dirty underpants?" 

He rolls his eyes. 

"Your smell is egg-spiring!" I clutch my stomach, doubling up. I bet it's the best pun of the century. And he's gonna laugh, for sure.

I flick my eyes up. Mr. Dev, oh my Universe, I swear he was born without the ability to laugh.

"Okay, last." I sigh. "Imagine Trump--tramp." He raises his eyebrows, unamused. "Okay, okay, don't get your knickers in a twist." 

I start again. "Imagine Trump goes to a park with his girlfriend named Eggy. He sits on the slide. What does Eggy say?"

"What?" he questions. Damn, he sounds interested.

"Omlettin' you slide, M-egg-Donald."