Rody Lamoree never thought he’d start his morning by tripping over a *baby basket.* He stumbled outside, only half-awake, and promptly stubbed his toe on it.
"OW! Wh—?" Rody squinted down, rubbing his toe and blinking at the sight. Inside the basket, a baby in a blue onesie stared back, unimpressed.
"Richard!" Rody shrieked. "There’s a *baby* outside!"
Richard stumbled into the hall, yawning. "Rody, if this is another ‘emergency’ involving your shoelaces—" He stopped, staring down at the baby, who now looked between them with clear judgment.
"Where... did you *get* this baby?" Richard asked, folding his arms.
"*I didn’t get him,* he’s just... here!" Rody pointed frantically. "And he’s got a note!"
Richard leaned in, reading the scribbled message. “*His name is Vincent. His father should take responsibility.*”
They exchanged a long, horrified look.
"Do you think he’s yours?" Rody asked.
"I’m very single, Rody. And, no offense, but I don’t think this baby’s yours either."
"Hey! Why not?" Rody demanded, but Vincent’s little face scrunched up, almost as if he agreed with Richard.
"Well, he’s here now," Richard sighed, picking Vincent up gingerly, holding him at arm’s length. "So let’s... bring him inside, I guess."
Vincent immediately slapped Richard on the nose with all the righteous indignation of a tiny, furious nobleman.
"Ow!" Richard flinched. "Alright, kid, take it easy!"
"Well, *I* like him," Rody snickered, following them in.
---
Once they got Vincent settled on the couch, they stared at him, and he stared back, giving them both a squinty-eyed glare.
"What does he want?Money?" Rody whispered to Richard.
"He’s not a vending machine, Rody, he’s a baby. Babies need, like, food, I think."
"Right! Food!" Rody rushed to the fridge and returned with the only thing he knew babies drank: orange juice.
Richard watched in horror as Rody began unscrewing the lid. "Are you seriously about to give a baby *orange juice?* Rody, no!"
"What? It’s fruit!" Rody protested.
"Babies need formula!" Richard snapped, grabbing his keys. “I’ll go buy some; you stay here and... babysit.”
Rody looked back at Vincent, who was already reaching for the remote. "What am I supposed to do until you get back?"
Richard shrugged. "Just keep him out of trouble."
Rody sighed, turning back to Vincent. "Alright, little guy, looks like it’s just you and me—HEY!" He lunged forward, grabbing the remote out of Vincent’s tiny hands just in time.
Vincent glared at him, brow furrowed like a tiny old man. Then, with all the confidence of a villain, he leaned over and promptly *bit* Rody on the hand.
"Ow!" Rody hissed, clutching his finger. "Alright, fine, you little gremlin—*fine.*"
Vincent just gave him a smug little look.
---
Richard returned with a bag of baby supplies just in time to find Rody with a makeshift pillow fort barricade around Vincent, who was in the process of trying to dismantle it.
