Honey, I Shrunk the Egos

Back to Work

Mark sighed, staring intently at Darkiplier, who was standing on the kitchen counter, returning his intense gaze.

"You tried to keep him locked up, and he got out." Amy reminded. "And as far as we know, all he did was find Frederick, which was... actually kind of helpful."

Everyone was winding down for the night. Tyler had gone home hours ago with Chica, and Kathryn and Ethan had just headed home. Amy and Signe had been laying out bedding for the egos, on top of the coffee table, which now had a shoe-lace, rope ladder taped to the edge, when Mark and Sean had started up the conversation of whether or not they could trust all of their egos to have free range of the house for the night.

Sean groaned. "Anti, you have to give up your weapons if you want to be loose."

"Uh, we're in the United States of America right now. Freedom means being armed, here." Anti pointed out, smirking.

"Stop that." Mark hissed, finally breaking eye contact with Dark to look over at Anti. "That's not how it works. Wilford, it goes for you too. You have to give up your weapons."

Wilford gasped. "Wea-pons? I don't have wea-pons..."

"We all know you have a razor blade knife." Kathryn pointed out.

Amy nodded. "And I can literally see the outline of the needle under your shirt. Is it just like... taped to your back?"

Wilford glanced around at them, then suddenly burst into laughter. "Oh... THOSE weapons. I completely forgot." He tilted his head, grinning, looking from person to person, almost as if to see if any of them were buying it. Leaning his head back to a more normal position, he tapped his fingers against his chin. "But... I already named her Razzy!"

"Razzy the razor blade?" Mark grunted. "Cute. Hand it over."

"I don't have to take this shit from you!" Wilford growled, then ran forward, jumping down the makeshift stair case beside the counter and darted under the fridge, as Robin scrambled to grab him.

"Sorry." Robin sighed, leaning down to look under the fridge.

Mark shook his head. "It's not your fault, Wilford's insane. Thanks for trying..."

"Anti... why don't you show Wilford how it's done and hand over your knife?" Sean suggested with a hopeful smile.

"Does that sound like something I would do?" Anti glitched, glaring at him.

Sean sighed. "I mean... it was worth a try."

"I have no weapons." Dark declared, still watching Mark. "Does that mean I do not need to escape your feeble attempts to contain me?"

Mark shifted in Amy's hand, turning to look up at her. "I can't do this anymore. You decide."

Amy chuckled. "I think he's been pretty well behaved... for Darkiplier. He's earned at least a little freedom, hasn't he?"

"I guess." Mark groaned. "Can you stick a broom under the fridge and get Wilford back out here?"

Amy frowned. "I don't want to hurt him..."

Mark shook his head. "I don't think you can hurt him."

"You very much so, can hurt him. Just because he is no stranger to a bullet wound or two, does not mean he cannot feel pain." Dark boomed, glaring at Mark.

"So go under the fridge and get him!" Mark turned to watch Dark.

Dark cracked his neck, straightening up his doll suit as much as he could. "I, unlike yourself, am not about to force him to give up something that makes him more comfortable in this world."