Tiny

Armless

"Oh Syringeon~! You home~?" A sing-song jovial voice called out, and that was enough to make the frown on Syringeon's face go deeper.

The fuchsia-colored Mutant narrowed his eyes, debating if he had time to pretend to be too immense in his work to hear Bittergiggle's voice calling out, or whether he should just chase the jester out himself just to get some peace and quiet.

He was leaning towards throwing the sharpest object around him to scare the jester off when Bittergiggle's face appeared around the door frame, the grin half of his face growing wider when his miss-matched eyes landed on the four-armed surgeon. "Syringeon! There you are, old buddy!"

"Go away, Bittergiggle. I'm not in the mood fer any of your jokes."

"Aww, but I came up with a really good one this time!"

"Bittergiggle–"

"It's one I'm sure you'll get a real kick out of!"

"Bittergiggle–"

"I promise you'll–!"

"Bittergiggle." Syringeon hissed, narrowing his eyes at the jester while activating his tools.

"... one joke for an entire year of none?" The jester offered meekly.

Syringeon glared at Bittergiggle, before sighing and turning off his tools. "Fine. ONE joke."

The grin on Bittergiggle's green side grew and he eagerly began to tell his joke. "What do you call someone when they stick their arm between a door?" He waited, though Syringeon didn't bother to answer. "Armless!"

The surgeon groaned as Bittergiggle let out a series of giggling fits at his own joke. "Terrible. As usual." He said as he turned away from the door. "Now leave me alone. I'm busy."

"... um, Syringeon?"

"If yer goin'ta say another joke, I'm goin'ta clock ya right in the jaw."

"I-It's not a joke. I promise no jokes after that one, remember?"

"Ay, fer a whole year." The surgeon kept his back to the door, searching around his desk for something. "Carol! Bring me batch eight from sector E!"

"R-Right. Um, well, funny story about that joke, you see–"

Bittergiggle didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. Whatever Syringeon was looking for on the desk, he found it and pressed it. The doors swiftly closed, locking Bittergiggle out on the other side.

The grin half of his face dropped as well as his frown half deepened as he stared at the door. "... well that was just plain rude." He sighed, looking down at the severed snake arm in his hand.

In all honesty, perhaps he should have shown Syringeon the arm first. That certainly would have caught his attention, though Bittergiggle wasn't quite sure if he'd help.

The surgeon never really got along all too well with Bittergiggle. Even when he wasn't telling jokes, Syringeon couldn't stand being in the same room with him for an hour. Bittergiggle wasn't sure what he did to make Syringeon hate him so much.

He wasn't sure what exactly he did to make everyone dislike him. Was it his jokes? Or was it his personality? Or did they not like the way that he dressed?

What was wrong with being fashionable? He was a jester, he was supposed to look like one. They shouldn't care about all the little details or extra features he added to his clothes! ... Maybe he should cut back on all the extravagant details and designs?

Be a little less flashy and showy? Would that make people like him a little more?

Maybe. Maybe not.

People were just so hard to please these days.