grass is always greener on the other side-

chapter four-

Quackity is losing his goddamn mind. He's out of scotch, and happiness evades him apparently.

"I'm just saying, I think if we re-painted the place we could reignite people's interests!"

"Charlie, we run a casino. I don't think people are forgetting what Las Nevadas is." Quackity sighed, his wings beating wildly in agitation.

Charlie rocked back and forth on his heels. "Our sales are going down though! What else could possibly be the problem?"

"The fact people are messing with the machines and figuring out which ones are rigged. Which, there's only like one machine that isn't." Quackity grumbled, pulling out his phone before he heard a few tiny taps, his wings going stiff

He turned to see the window, seeing a little crow with a letter in its beak.

"Oh, a letter?" Charlie clapped his hand as he walked over and opened the window, letting the little guy hop in.

He grabbed it and looked at the seal, blinking in surprise. "It's from the Syndicate!"

Charlie pet the bird's head gently as Quackity came over to take the letter.

Quackity sighing a bit. "The hell do they want now?" He asked, tearing off the seal and opening the letter. "Couldn't call like a normal person."

"Who's a good boy? Here, I'll get you some corn." Charlie cooed at the crow who cawed at the slime hybrid and nuzzled into his hand before Charlie walked away. The crow flew up onto his shoulder to be with him.

Quackity rolled his eyes again and began to read the letter.

'Jester,

I know that we're not on the "best" of terms-'

"Aaaaand, fuck that, and fuck you. I knew it was that fish bitch." Quackity sighed, shaking his head.

"Who?" Charlie asked, walking back in with a handful of corn the crow was picking at.

"Siren. Only he has the gall to send me a letter via crow like a frail Victorian child after we blew each other up." Quackity crossed his arms.

"Well, maybe you should write back to him. You two are kind of friends, aren't you?" Charlie hummed.

"Mutual disrespect, Charlie. It does not equal friendship. That guy's an asshole." Quackity huffed and pulled out his lighter, setting it on his desk and letting the paper ignite.

"His overbearing fathers are to blame for that. Seriously, I don't think the guy was allowed to have actual human interaction until he was an adult."

The crow seemed a bit annoyed and flew over to Quackity, landing on his shoulder and pecking at his head.

"Oh." Charlie muttered and stifled a laugh.

"Hey- Ow, ow, ow- motherfucker!" Quackity squawked himself, grabbing the crow and taking him to the window and throwing it out.

"Aww…Goodbye crow." Charlie muttered sadly.

Almost comically, the fire alarm pierced their ears and caused the sprinklers on the ceiling to kick on, soaking them in seconds.

"God fucking dammit." Quackity muttered.

—--------

"What's taking him so long to respond?" Wilbur grumbled as he paced around the room, in a circle around their living room while Phil was reading a book on the couch, one wing stretched out to accommodate Wilbur if he decided to sit down.

"Mate, it's been a day, give the guy a bit to respond." Phil hummed, trying to pay attention to his book with his lanky ass son's footsteps pacing all around him.