And yet again, the world feels like a scarier place and I am so tired.

TEXT:

Evil helped him get steady again, but stayed with a paw on his shoulder. His brows shadowed narrow red eyes, his mouth a touch grim. Prozac closed his own eyes in annoyance. Now even Evil was worried about him. Time to shove the wallowing down deep so he could break open in private.

Evil sniffed, “You’re mumbling about exposed capillaries and dripping vitreous…sounds like my kind of party. Are we…good?”

Prozac glanced over at Evil’s forced grin, then Crack’s manic shaking, then Murder’s relaxed dozing face. How she could sleep in Crack’s quivering arms he couldn’t guess. “Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose. Maybe he’ll even stay sleeping and we can just shove the fish down his fanged throat.”

Evil’s eyes lit up! “Excellent! He might choke to death! It’s a glorious day to enact accidental murder!” Evil dropped the Trojan fish down the hole, then quickly lowered himself in after it. Prozac slid his butt through the gap and gripped the edges while his gaze slid to Crack. “Stay here until we can get that fish into him and he goes out.”

Crack straightened from his rocking and snapped off a jaunty salute. Murder lifted her head and nodded. Prozac dropped through the hole but was pretty sure he caught a glimpse of Murder’s tongue poking out and Crack’s muttered, “Holy Fuck, of COURSE I’m not going down there YET.” Perhaps those two were spending too much time together… but thoughts about Crack’s emerging assertiveness (asshole-ness?)  were diverting, and his mood lightened a little as he padded after Evil who was silently approaching the snoring lion, rotting fish dangling by the tail from his raised paw. Perhaps they’d all emerge intact from this adventure (abomination?)  and he could look forward to telling Crack off for behaving just like the others.