Sylvester and Tweety Mysteries.

Ch11: Barney and the Holy Bubblegum of doom.

Dedicated to: @unknownfamousauthor

               •CHAD•

"Hey Chad," Brad said, lazily rolling his head over to face me. Currently, we were sitting on the couch watching Tom and Jerry in the gym and Ron was with us, munching on popcorn on the floor.

"What?" I responded, with the same tone.

"If garbage cans could walk, they'd be exactly like you." 

My brain hurts. After three whole hours of serious exercise, I wanted to let it rest.

Billy: Just say something snappy to shut him up.

"By garbage cans, I think you mean pizzas." And with that, I rolled my head back and closed my eyes.

Billy: So snappy, Chad.

Even without my shirt, I felt sweaty and exhausted, so I put my hands behind my head and placed it on the end of the couch. I threw my legs at Brad's shoulder.

Billy: Meaning, you kicked him.

No, my legs just gave him a high five.

Bully: on the shoulder?

On the shoulder.

He shot me an irritated look and shrugged my leg off. "I don't want your face on my shoulder."

But they're my legs.

"You say that as if there is a difference between your face and your legs." He retorted to my thought – which I might have voiced.

"If you want to tell me that my legs are as handsome as my face, you could tell me." I said, kicking him lightly and throwing my legs on his lap.

"I —"

"Shh. I don't have the energy to ignore you now." I said and lazily put a finger on my lips. I finally closed my eyes and slipped my arm back under my head, falling asleep.

In my dream, I was sleeping. And the only thing I could see was black.

🍫🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍫

I could say for sure that it was the first time that I had woken up without someone or something disturbing me awake.

My brain finally decided that it would do no harm if I get my lazy butt off the couch.

"What time is it?" I asked to whoever could hear me and I groggily rubbed my eyes.

"7 pm." Ron replied.

"Where's Brad?" I asked, sitting up, scratching my hair. At least, I tried to sit up.

"He's asleep." Ron replied.

"Thank you, captain obvious."

Brad was now sitting on my legs and he leaned back on the couch letting out monstrous snores.

Billy: They weren't monstrous.

They were grotesque?

Billy: No, they are too soft to even be considered snores.

Whatever.

"Ron, do you have a pen or something that writes?" I asked with a glint of mischief in my eyes. 

"I always carry a marker around with me."

You know, with Ron, you can never really tell if he's being sarcastic about things like this.

I narrowed my eyes on him, tilting my head slightly.

"That was sarcasm." He confirmed.

"Well, if I can't draw on his face, I can at least slap it."

"Poor guy – don't slap him." Ron said, almost feeling sad for my victim.

Almost, because he continued, "I should also slap him at the same time."

Add this to the top ten reasons why he is my best friend.

"3," I whispered, coming closer to him.

Ron caught the hint and copied me, "2," I swallowed my laughter, putting a hand over my mouth.

"1." Slap!

"Holy bubblegum of doom, what is wrong with you, Barney?" Brad yelled, jolting up straight and hitting my head in the process.

No sooner had he said that than I started howling with laughter, clutching my stomach. Ron wasn't in a good condition either.

"B-bubble gu-hum of d-doohom?!" I asked, laughing so hard I fell back onto the couch. I could see Brad's face heat up and that just made me laugh even more, if that was possible.

Ron was literally laying on the floor, kicking his legs and clutching his stomach. "B-b-Barney?? You dream about – ahhahahaAhha!" Ron tried to speak.

Brad groaned slightly, then got up and stomped out, muttering something about us being "useless bullies". I laughed so hard, I had tears spilling out.

Once we caught our breath, I sat up straight, taking Ron's high five.

"How do you deal with him?" Ron asked, chucking lightly.

"Easy – buy him a pacifier, a bunch of diapers and a lollipop." I said, getting up to the shower room.

Ron shook his head, still grinning.

We hit the showers and after a few minutes, both of us were walking back home.

"You do realise that, once we find his mom, you both wouldn't be brothers anymore?" Ron asked.

I had my hands shoved in my pockets and I was kicking random stones and twigs on the street. "I have been waiting for that day." I said, with a smug look on my face.

But really, I'm just helping him because I want him to be happy — with his mom. I can treat him like my brother anyways, if only he accepts me as his brother, and my family as his own family.