Happy New Year and happy back to school :D
Feeling a little anxious about 2025…I think Prozac’s face says it all…

TEXT:

Prozac lurked behind the cave of the lion enclosure, worrying. He worried about staking a large part of the plan on Crack’s fragile state of mind. He worried about Evil’s arm and a distressing amount of blood loss. He worried that they’d under-dosed that idiot Lionel. He worried that Murder would get side tracked, or didn’t understand his instructions because…goose. He worried that Steven would betray them. He worried that Cara had already been torn apart by lions. He worried that he was wasting time worrying but he couldn’t seem to snap out of it. Should he wait for Murder to get back? Should he go spy on the hopefully a tea party and not a massacre on the other side of the cave?

He wasn’t used to this paralyzing level of indecision. Everything felt suddenly too much: too much pressure, too high the stakes. He was used to feeling responsible for 9 idiot brothers (with vastly different degrees of idiot between them) but the first time Cara’s presence overwhelmed him. He loved everything about her (even the monstrous bits…especially the monstrous bits) but he suddenly resented the way her being in danger made him freeze. Was having her making him less? Was it a betrayal for him to feel that way? What could he possibly do about it?

His ears swivelled at a new sound, heavy breathing and scuffling steps. Prozac slid lower behind some bushes, edged around the cave, and groaned. Tanked wobbled by, hefting a cooler almost as wide as he was tall. The little bear was heading for the rest of the group in front of the cave, smiling wide and listing sideways as the contents of the cooler shifted and pulled his balance off. He was probably going to drop the whole thing and crush his foot. Then get eaten by lionesses.