ALWAYS, kotlc

the great fitzy fail test

"We are not pranking Fitz."

"We are so pranking Fitz," Keefe corrected brightly, already scribbling happily in his notebook.

Sophie sighed through a smile and leaned closer to peek at the notebook title: The Amazing Hunkyhair Pranking Journal! Underneath it was a subtitle printed in bold, ice blue script: For Ideas To Challenge The Great Gulon Incident!

"Are you ever going to tell me what The Great Gulon Incident was?" Sophie asked hopefully, watching him write furiously. His hand was moving so quickly that the page nearly ripped.

"Nice one, Foster. Don't think I didn't notice," Keefe added, finishing his sentence and ending it with a messy scribble. He beamed at his writing and looked up at her. "We're ready!"

"Ugh. You are kidding," Sophie tried. The images of a shrieking Fitz, his pants in flames, sprint-hopping through the Foxfire halls, and Keefe cackling behind him, definitely made her plea a little more half-hearted than she wanted it to be.

"Present, and un-kidding!" Keefe reported happily, pressing the open notebook into her palm. Sophie read over his entry wearily.

The Great Fitzy Fail Fest!

That was the only five words Sophie could make out- followed by a mess of scribbles and three beautifully crafted drawings that made her eyes burn with laughing tears.

The first one showed a detailed drawing of Fitz- except he didn't look like Fitz. He looked like a mush of green scales and purple spikes and his facial expression made him resemble a constipated gulon with purple chicken pox. And from the way he was fanning his hand near his... bottom, Sophie had the idea he was either shaking away a fart or his butt was on fire.

The second one- somehow even more hysterical than the last -was a picture of a furious Lady Galvin, waving what looked like some sort of cylindrical wooden object at Fitz's head as he waved one of her precious, jewel-encrusted capes and raced through the hallways, looking terrified. Sophie was pretty sure Keefe had purposely drawn his hair flat on his head to prove that The Hair would forever remain superior.

And the final one was perfect and simple in it's own glorious way: Fitz standing on the Foxfire podium, hundreds of prodigies and parents facing him. His cheeks were flaming- colored a deep, crimson red -and his eyes were looking in opposite directions, giving him a strange expression.

And from the swirly squiggles scribbled haphazardly towards his backside- (and the tiny drawn Keefe on the side of the stage, pointing and laughing with one hand, and holding his nose with the other) -the mess of pencil lines was most likely another fart...

"There is no way," Sophie announced, trying to be a good friend, even though her mind was chanting Prank Fitz! Prank Fitz! Prank Fitz!, and her eyes kept darting to the three drawings, and her lips kept curling into a smile, "That I'm doing that to Fitz."

"Come on Foster!" He pouted, and Sophie thought her heart might melt. "Please! We all love Lady Feisty Fos-Boss!"

Sophie hesitated- and then she had a beautiful, glorious, Keefe-esque idea... "Fine, Hunkyhair. But with one exception."

"Anything, Foster."

"I get to call you Keefey the Kangaroo for the rest of the day!"

Keefe looked traumatized.

Sophie held up his notebook and waved it tauntingly. Keefe hesitated.

Finally, he smirked and blew her a kiss. "Fine, Feisty Fos-Boss."

Sophie tossed him his notebook. "Fine, Keefey the Kangaroo."

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