ARGHHHHH. WHAT IS WRONG WITH TAM! CAN HE NOT BE SUPER WEIRD FOR LIKE, TWO SECONDS!?
You know what? Keefe was gonna make the greatest neon yellow paint bombs anyone had ever seen.
Keefe angrily mixed the dry mixture and the wet together.
WHY.
Keefe empathized each angry thought with a very hard stir.
IS.
Bubble powder was starting to poof out of the bowl.
HE.
The batter started to splash dangerously along the rim of the bowl.
SO FREAKING ANNOYING!
The small parts of the batter started to splatter onto Keefe.
Keefe looked down.
He sighed and put down the whisk.
Some of the batter had splashed out of the bowl.
It was okay, he told himself. He still had enough left for the paint bombs.
Keefe looked for something to wipe the batter with.
He glanced across the table and was filled with the familiar feeling of disappointment when he saw the empty towel of paper roll.
He would have to go down 37 floors to find more.
Tears pricked his eyes.
Why couldn't anything be alright for once? He didn't want perfect. He just wanted sometimes okay.
Was that so impossible?
And now there wasn't any paper towel, and he messed up the paint bombs and Tam was gone and his life sucked..and..and...
His lip trembled.
And now he would have to go down 37 freaking flights of stairs to get paper towel!
Keefe burst into tears.
He knew it was stupid, and it was just stairs, but he couldn't stop himself.
He stood over the paint-bomb batter sobbing his heart out over the tragedy that was paper towel.
He tried to wipe away the rivers of snot running down his face but it was no use.
He needed to get a hold of himself.
It was just paper towel.
Keefe sank to the floor.
His fingers touched something sticky.
He looked down.
Paint batter.
It would probably stain the floor.
He needed to clean up that stupid batter.
He practically ripped off his shirt and started to aggressively wipe the floor between tears.
He was rubbing hard enough for a second he thought he might rip a hole in the floor.
He stopped and looked down.
The floor was still sticky and yellow, and now his shirt was stained.
He was a sobbing mess.
He angrily tried to wipe his tears away with his shirt.
The friction was starting to sting but he ignored it.
What was wrong with everything!
He tries and tries and tries to fix things and he just makes a bigger mess than before!
Keefe needed to get a hold of himself.
It's just a paper towel.
It's just batter.
It's just a stain.
It just hurts a bit.
He took a shaky breath.
This was fine.
He lowered the shirt from his face.
This was okay.
He would finish the batter. He would make the greatest paint bombs in the history of paint bombs. He would have the best April fools day ever.
He would be just fine.
Keefe stood up, still a bit weak, and started to whisk the batter.
Tam stomped down 40 sets of stairs, too mad to use the elevator.
His stomps echoed through the stairwell, like an opera house.
He could probably do a sick phantom of the opera reenactment here.
Keefe was horrible. He was going to mess everything up for everyone else, just because he thinks he's right.
IT SAID LIGHT YELLOW.
DOES KEEFE HAVE EYES?
LIGHT. YELLOW!
NOT NEON.
NOT SUNSET YELLOW.
NOT GOLD.
LIGHT FREAKING YELLOW.
ARGHHHHHHH.
Tam wanted to punch something.
He didn't, cause that would be really rude and he had some self control, but he really wanted to.
Keefe could do whatever he wanted, Tam didn't care.
Sure, go right ahead a mess up the entire recipe, mess up the April fools prank, heck, mess up the world! Tam didn't care.
He didn't.
In fact the only reason he helped in the first place was pity.
Not that he had any anymore.
Not for Keefe.
That stuck up, useless, rude, mean, selfish, ugly, stupid..
Tam paused. He was running out of synonyms. He racked his mind for more words. Aha.
Arrogant, cruel, idiotic, imbecilious-
He was so busy insulting Keefe in his head that he didn't notice that the stairs had ended, and he nearly ran into the door.
Tam screeched to a halt in the last second, before he face planted into the metal door.
He brought out his hand to push it open, and noticed that he had been digging his nails into his palms.
There were four red crescent shaped marks indented into his palm.
Ouch. It kinda hurt.
Tam grumbled and pushed the door open.
He quickly walked across the entrance hall.
He felt the gaze of Lord Cassius's many unflattering portraits pierce into his back.
There must have been, what, fifty life size paintings of Lord Cassius in different regal looking outfits. Each one looked stupider than the last.
Tam rolled his eyes and pulled open the door out of Candleshade.
He stepped out and took a deep breath.
YOU ARE READING
April Fools
HumorIt's nearly April Fools day, Keefe's favourite day of the year, and he has planned his greatest pranks yet. But when his plan gets destroyed, he is forced to team up with his worst enemy to save April fools day.
