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Chapter Text

It's dark in Dook's living room. Like, really dark. Y'know, usually he'd keep a light on or something, and he even had one on before, but that was before Teddy went to sleep. His brother had trudged into the two's shared apartment after his late shift and hung out with him for a little while before the weight of the day hit him and he was nearly corpse like on the other side of the couch. Definetly not in the mood for their Saturday night tradition of getting drunk and watching whatever cartoons Dook had taped the earlier mornings of the week.

So Teddy had dragged himself off the cushions before the squishy pillows could persuade him into a uncomfortable Dreamland that'd only result in his back aching like hell in the morning. His middle brother had gotten his feet under him, bid Dook a goodnight and shuffled off towards his room, swiping his hand down the wall in his journey and flicking the lights in the kitchen off. It left Dook with just the light of Sesame Street beaming from the ringing T.V into the darkness of the living room and casting deep haunting shadows across the carpet. He had Lula to keep him company at least, wherever that wrinkly little pet dog went.

Now don't get him wrong, Dook's not afraid of the dark. But already being pretty contently drunk, and a bit paranoid as a result, being in the dark wasn't the most comforting experience. He would've gotten up and turned on a different, less potent light source, but for some awful reason he was scared to actually put his feet to the floor and go across the room to the standing lamp by the door. He's a grown man! But the irrational anxiety licking at his nerves overruled his competent mind, and he was bound to his spot until he could work up the courage to just go for it.

Orrrrr, he could focus less on the living room and more on whatever the hell Big Bird was trying to tell the snuffleupagus trifling around in the snow. Dook propped himself up on his elbow on the arm of the couch, shuffling higher, positioning his legs better to the side of him. He snaked his arm, the one opposite to his goal, over to the small table on his left, patting blindly at the wooden surface. He kept focus on the musings of Sesame Street, squinting blearily at Grover's horrific looking snow woman. Everybody's got a type, right? She looked worse as she melted, somehow the fuzzy blue puppet didn't seem to notice his frozen friend deteriorating in the sun.

After probably the twentieth slapping of the table and no result, he twisted his head swiftly to look where he was going, floppy ear swinging back and hooking over his nose. He brushed it back and grappled the neck of the bottle he was aiming for, the clear alcohol inside it jumping up the side as it bumped against the arm of the couch. He tucked the bottle in the angle his legs made where they were resting near his stomach, the plastic of it cold through his t-shirt and old jammie pants. He rubbed his thumb against the neck of the plastic, scratching idly at the label. He gripped it tight as he leant over the side of the couch, wavering his other hand near the coffee table where another bottle sat. Something to dull down the acrid taste of vodka, soda or juice or whatever him and Teddy bought this time, cause he already forgot what it was and he couldn't read the label in the shadows. He let go of the first thing and placed his wavering hand on the edge of the cushion, other hand stabilized on the floor.

Dook leaned forward and snagged it off the table, setting it safely on the couch. Satisfied, he sat back, reaching down and moving a cup away from the bottom of the sofa. He proceeded to pour the two into the glass, not a lot of the clear stuff cause man did he hate the taste. Like drinking pure rubbing alcohol. Threw up the first time he tried to shot it cause one of his friends... buddy... That panther who'd taken the time to talk to the lone dog sitting alone at the bar and Dook had followed him around like a lost puppy.

He'd put a shot in his hand and Dook went for it like he'd known the stranger like one of his brothers. It was horrible, and with no chaser to boot. It'd made him gag, and he thought he was fine till his stomach pushed and had to run and find a trashcan to relieve his guts of the horrible taste. The punked out big cat laughed at him and pet down his head, swiping his ears back, and Dook half heartedly chuckled with him between heaves.

The two bottles were deposited on the floor in place of the cup, tucked close to the couch. He settled himself back on the cushions, taking a swig out of the glass. His snout scrunched involuntarily. He could still taste the vodka, though it wasn't unbearable under the fruitiness of what he'd have to guess is fruit punch? But he'd already filled the cup up and he wasn't no bitch. He was a bastard thank you. He risked a bigger drink out of the blue tinted glass. When he raised it to the light of the T.V, the red dye of the drink shone through as a deep purple, royal in it's hue. Another drink and he set it on it's bottom on the side table, turning back towards the glow of the CRT.

The VHS crackled and went dark, that segment of tape being a little wrinkled after the VHS player had tried to claim the VHS as lunch some odd weeks ago. Little white lines wobbled at the bottom half of the screen, the rest dark gray. The T.V buzzed as no audio came out. Dook sat in the dim lit darkness for a little while, hopeful. Distantly he heard something small being scoot around somewhere off to his right, near the kitchen. It's was probably his neighbors, it was a pretty odd hour of the night but he wouldn't be surprised if he was just picking up the noise through the wall. Their kitchen was on the same wall as him and Teddy's. His hearing was pretty good on account of being a dog. Big ears gotta have some advantage.

His neighbors sometimes were up late like he was but usually it was both of the couple also in their kitchen and he'd hear them talking. But listening in, he didn't hear that. Just the metallic little clanks of the bottoms of containers. Maybe just the husband rifling around in stuff. He left that train of thought where it was, his focus directed back on Sesame Street as it flicked to color. None of his business, he listened in on those two too much anyway. Kinda hard not to when they start yelling at each other, but somehow despite that they seem happy. He needs to get a life.

He snorted to himself, shaking his head. He snatched his cup up and drained a mouthful, swallowing it down as Grover stared solemly at his shrinking snow lady, piling more winter apparel onto the misshapen figure in misplaced kindness. The puppet patted the head of the snow comfortingly, though the lady remained silent as it always had, for the ten minutes or so it's been alive. An adult moved into shot behind Grover, talking something about the situation. Dook propped his chin on the arm of the couch, eyes trying to focus on the view outside the dark curtains of the window.

The glow of the streetlights had gone out a while ago, but one of the lights near the entrance of his complex was on, he could vaguely see the street through the crack of the fabric over the glass. The spaniel huffed, moving his arm out from under him to throw it over the couch arm, holding the cup in opposite hand against the cushions cautiously. It's pretty much the same view as when he looks outside normally. Same cars in their spots, his van still in the same spot probably. The neighbor across the street with the busted up lawn flamingos. That's about all he can see from here though. It's pretty late, might be edging towards 2:00 am. Not like he has work tomorrow. He's got the next day or so off but he's gotta get back to the junkyard by Monday cause he's gotta go to space somehow. And pay bills. And buy food.

Being an adult wasn't all it chalked up to be, really. You can smoke and drink and legally sleep with people but you're completely indebted by the government and that kinda sucks. Cause they could randomly just yoink your car or your house and you're screwed. But hey! There's no point in thinking about the negatives! So just shut that part of his brain off and he's good to go man! It's Saturday!

Dook sat up straight, leaning against the back of the cushions, legs criss crossed like a kindergartener. He quickly downed the rest of the glass and set it off to the table to get that over with. It fell to it's side, rolling around as it did. He reached back over and set it back up but his hands were a little unresponsive and it fell again as he tried to do so. He furrowed his brows and squinted, trying to get his vision to focus in the dark. He picked up the glass, and held it in the air. Slowly he brought it down, positioning it on it's bottom. He retracted his hand vertically, watching the cup carefully as it wobbled. It spun as it adjusted, settling against the wood. Dook grinned all goofy, tail wagging feeling all accomplished. Little task done with, he looks back to the T.V. it's just The Count, doing his Count things. Footsteps in the snow. In the living room something clatters near the T.V stand.

Dook startles, ears perked up horizontal, uncrossing his legs. He stares near the side of the stand, trying desperately to see in the darkness what it was. "Lula?" He calls out. Nothing. He clicks his tongue, patting the couch beside him. "Lula." He says firmer. On the right side of the couch, the pet basset hound snuffles and raises her head sleepily, looking up at him from her spot curled up on the far side of the couch. He meets her brown eyes and a dread flutters in his chest. He looks back to the T.V stand and is met with two little white dots where he was staring before. He freezes, and beside him he can see Lula tensing up at his body language, sitting up following his gaze, searching the room with her eyes. Dook patted beside him, fumbling around trying to find something. He felt something and grabbed it, in the light he could see it was one of Lula's dog toys, one of those hard chewing type ring things. He raised it up past his his head, taking aim and throwing it where he saw the dots.

The toy bounced against the carpet and hit the glowing things on its way down, the eyes, he now learned, flinching back. The thing jolted into the light of the T.V raising it's little foot and spreading it's big ears out and hissing hatefully at him. "Ay-tay!" It yowled. He scrambled to his feet on the couch cushions, just barely able to restrain himself to a series of suppressed little shouts instead of screaming and waking up the whole complex. Lula stood up on the couch and barked and bayed at the little furry intruder, it's pink and blue saturated fur now noticeable in the light and alerting Lula to it's presence. Dook followed suit with his hound dog and started barking at the little Furby, the white footed clawed thing hissing at the two of them continuously, it's silver eyes shining heinously in the glow. Lula howled out from her spot, rocking back and forth like she was gonna jump but never did. Dook got as far as he could from the thing by backing up to the corner of his side of the couch, still frightfully yapping, ears raised up high, trying to scramble onto the arm of the couch.

Down the hall came hurried footsteps, and Teddy turned the corner to the sight of his younger brother and Lula both barking at the floor by the T.V, both swaying on top of the couch from varying states of mental fog. "What?! What the fuck man, what?!" The pitbull had come out of his room, robe half pulled on. He adjusted the garment and flicked the light on in the kitchen. He clapped his hands at the two. "Yooo! Stop barking man it's late! Shut up! Lula!" Dook halted, eyes flipping rapidly from his brother and the Furby on his living room floor. He gestured palm out at it, stumbling on the cushions nearly falling. "S there! Whadda hell is it?!" Dook yelped as Lula bayed heartily into the air, still just as freaked out as her spaniel caretaker. Teddy glared down at the cotton candy fuzzball and shared that same look with his brother. "It's a Furby man! And it's a baby! It's not gonna hurt you! All you gotta do is pick the damn thing up and put it outside!" He held his hand out towards the thing, it's beak wide, still hissing, backing up into the corner of the T.V stand and the wall. "Youuu do it!" Dook pointed at him, still standing up on the couch.

His brother rolled his sleep glazed bronze eyes and huffed, storming over and bending next to the Furby. He plucked it up by the scruff of it's neck, holding it up and putting the other hand under it's cat like paws. "You're 23 years old dude! You 'Jaws'ed a dude but the little baby Furbies send you into a bitch fit? Come on, it's 2 in the morning, you're drunk, go to bed." Dook whipped his head around where he had glanced out the window and gasped, appalled. "M'not a bitch!" He spat. "I'm a bastard! Get it right!" Teddy held the thing up, walking over to the side of the couch as Dook tried to back away. He taunted the drummer with the wiggling pest as it hissed, holding it up towards him while Dook tried to scramble on the couch arm and failing, just resulting in messing up his balance.

"Bastard fit ain't any better! Babies man! It's a baby! It can't even bite ya it's mouth's so small! Lula shut up!" He shouted. Lula stopped and whined, trotting across the couch and sitting by Dook's feet. "Oh you drama queen, I never yell at you. You and ya daddy are pussies! It's a baby!" Teddy huffed, walking over to the front door. He twisted the knob and swung open the door, setting the thing on it's feet on the porch and swinging the door closed before it could scramble back into the house. Dook sat back down on the couch, Lula immediately proclaiming her spot in his lap as soon as he was settled. "There, it's gone! You're lucky you didn't wake up the neighbors man! It's not that bad, they like people! I dunno what you did to piss it off but they're like raccoons dude, they're just looking for food. Just be quiet man, 'm tired." The pitbull whined, yawning soon after. He smacked his lips, reaching over and clicking on the lamp by the door. He crossed the room, flipping the switch to the kitchen. "M sorry Teds." Dook slurred, petting the basset hound from her head down her back. Lula grumbled at Teddy all prissy-like, setting her head on Dook's leg as she laid down. "It's fine." He glanced back at the two floppy eared dogs. "You spoil that dog. Keep yo drunk ass in check. I'm going back to bed, night." Teddy turned and meandered down the hall to their rooms. "Night... Love you!" Dook called. "Love you." Teddy mumbled back, the door to his room clicking shut as he pushed the door behind him. Dook sat still for a little longer aside from the stroking motion along Lula's spine, ruminating in the guilty feeling he got from that whole experience. Teddy worked pretty late all the time, he shouldn't be waking him up like that. He leaned down and hugged the hound, careful with her small stature. She rest her head on his arm, used to this by now. He continued to pet her as he did so.

After a minute he scooped her up into his arms, shuffling lower on the couch till his head fit under the arm. He settled the dog on his stomach, idly stroking her head, and her back, and her ears. Lula got herself situated in no time, resting on his gut like the finest of silk pillows. Her purple collar jingled as she nudged against him, settling down for the night it seems. Dook turned his head to the side, the T.V still on the same episode of Sesame Street. It wasn't long before the two of them slipped into Dreamland, thought the soft and sweet comfort he would expect was instead plagued with visions of silver eyed creatures with beaks of yellow scratching at his front door. It'd be a rough night for sure.

The next morning greeted Dook like a slap in the face. Since he'd ended up falling asleep on the couch in his drunk stupor, the crack in the window was pulled just so and the sun outside beamed across his face, straight over his shut eyes. So he woke up squinting and with his head pounding from said light. He tried to turn over but Lula hadn't budged an inch through the night, still snoozing away on top of him. Dook threw his hands over his eyes and he whined high in the back of his throat, legs pushing out trying to stretch despite the roadblock of a basset hound on his gut. He continued to whine at the displeasures of this horrible world, a continuous pitched noise that just did not stop. Lula raised her head off of him, grumbling at the disturbance. She yawned and hopped off his stomach, jumping to the carpet below. As soon as he was free he flipped onto his belly, burying his face into the couch cushions under him. It didn't fix his hangover but it dulled the pain in his head enough to where he could think. His whining shifted to a rumble, shaking through his chest and up his throat as the new self soothing trait. He expressed his discontent lengthily, purring for the cushions.

Distantly, he felt the couch dip near his feet. He would've raised his head, but he knew better by now that it was Teddy, and if he exposed himself to the light he'd just make it so much worse. "Drink without me last night?" Teddy accused, poking at the paw beans on his bare foot. Dook jerked his foot away, kicking lightly back at the pitbull when he did it again. "Hey I asked if you were gunna join. It's Saturday man. Party day before the return to corporate slavery." Dook grumbled, raising his knees up by his torso. He turned his head to the side, revealing one lone sleep clutched blue eye. The spaniel laid his focus on the blank grey of the T.V, turned off sometime in the night, or morning or so.

"You been stealing words off Beach Bear again?" Teddy leaned forward, rising to his feet. He strode across the room, fixing the curtains shut. Dook shrugged, continuing to rumble his vocal chords between his words in a comforting manner, the dull whines interspersed between the purrs mixing into some sorta mental concoction that dulled his headache pleasently. "How would you know? You haven't met him." Dook huffed, placing his hands under him, pushing until his chest hit the couch arm and he put his chin on the fabric and cushions covering the hard wooden interior. Dook blinked rapidly, growing used to the level of light in the room. Teddy receded from the window, moving back to his spot on the couch from Dook's side. In his wake the toe of his boot caught against something, knocking one of the bottles to it's side on the floor. It had it's cap on though, so all he did was pick that up along with the other one, setting the two on the coffee table.

Teddy flopped onto the couch on the other side, twisting around and hooking his knees on the other arm. He leaned back, resting his head on Dook's outer thigh where his legs were stacked. "I met him! You pick out words from people, and Beach Bear makes you sound like a stoner." The spaniel huffed indignantly, turning his head to glare at his middle brother. "You saw 'im for maybe 20 minutes! And he's not a stoner, he has a degree." He defended, pointing at his pittie brother accusingly. Teddy just shrugged. "Degreeee..." He mocked. "That don't mean nothing, you don't gotta be stupid to smoke weed. How much would you even have to smoke to get high being that fuckin' big? How tall is he? I swear he nearly knocked himself out on the fan." Teddy pointed up at their ceiling, their lazily spinning fan the center of his focus.

Dook turned onto his back, Teddy slipping down and resting his head on his stomach between his legs. "He's massive, you ever look up at someone who's 8 foot tall standing next to 'em? Got me thinkin' I gotta thing for tall people. I'm 5'5, that's like 3 feet taller 'n me! Could pick me up an' throw me if he wanted." Dook raised his arms out in front of him, stretching out his limbs. His elbows popped with the effort, shaking as he re elasticed his muscles. He yawned great, tilting his head back as his chest expanded. "Sounds like you're inta that." Teddy snorted.

Dook folded his hands together and cracked his knuckles, shaking them out after. He lightly smacked Teddy's face, resting his palm over his similarly brown furred roommate. "Guess so. I dunno, it's kinda cool. Bein' that tall is prolly inconvenient but, I can think ah some uses." Dook looked off towards the blank T.V contemplating such advantages. "Big man big dick." Teddy reasoned, shrugging against his little brother's legs. Dook covered his face. "I don't need to think about Beach Bear like that." He whined, rubbing his rough hands over his snout liked it'd erase the raunchy mental images his brain immediately assaulted him with. "Oh my god..." Teddy's face split into a wide grin, near psychotic with it's force. "You're crushin' mad hard on the dude! You acted like that with Joshua!" Teddy shouted, twisting around like a hotdog so he could see Dook, chin on his stomach. Dook kept his face hidden, but he started grumbly whining as soon as those words left Teddy's mouth. Teddy's long tail thwapped against the couch, leaning in over his brother as close as he could like this, basically laying on him, Teddy's chest resting near the bottom of Dook's ribs. "When's the wedding? Are you gonna wear a dress? Is he? You'd look good in white probably. Don't get silver rings you look better in gold. Would Beach Bear look good in gold? Probably? How do gay weddings work?" Teddy paused as soon as he got to the end, looking off with furrowed brows. "They don't."

Dook rubbed his face vigorously and dropped his hands. "I don't even like him like that. He's just my friend, my only friend. He's cool but... I don't wanna... jump him. I don't even think he's gay, he's got a lotta girlfriends." Dook reasoned, scratching at his neck. Teddy sighed, settling back down on his brother. "There goes my excitement for the day." He said. Dook rolled his eyes. "My lack of a love life doesn't concern you man. Get offa me, I gotta pee." Dook pushed at his face, raising his legs up so he could position them once Teddy rolled off. "Alright alright, don't keep the piss demons waiting." He waved a hand, putting his palm to the couch and pushing off of Dook. The spaniel swung his legs over the couch, leaning over with his elbows on his knees. "What?? There'r piss demons???" Dook stood up off the couch, balancing himself on the arm before he could wobble and get sent back to the cushions. He steadied himself on the floor, waiting for the vertigo to pass. "There'r demons erywhere man, they're in the fridge, unda the table. In the cabinets, in the freezer, in ya room. In the walls. Or well, the fairies are in tha walls." Teddy got himself off the couch as well, though he was quicker than his younger brother of 2 years, standing off by the side of the couch. "I thought the fairies were in the closets?" Dook responded.

Teddy paused on his way to the kitchen, squinting at the kitchen window. He barked a laugh, cackling like a witch. "Get in there with them you man kisser!" Teddy howled. Lula rose her head at the disturbance from her spot laying by the door, a small low yap coming from her throat. Teddy turned on his heel, pointing an accusatory finger at the basset hound. "Don't you tell me to shut up Scuba Lula Larue Marine! You pick favorites! You only gonna stand up for your Dukey-Boo and not me? We got you off the streets together! You act like I don't like you!" Lula barked at him from her spot, not bothering to sit up. Teddy gasped, looking towards Dook. Dook swapped glances between the two dogs, confused. "What? I didn't see her I didn't pick that up." Teddy's jaw dropped. "I think she just told me to go fuck myself. She probably likes you better cause ya let her sleep in ya bed." He crossed his arms, staring accusingly at the chillaxed hound. "I just like hangin' out wit' her." Dook shrugged, making his way over to the bathroom door.

Teddy rolled his eyes. "I do too! You like me right Lula? C'maaan, I try witchu all the time!" Teddy crossed over the room to her, arms out, bending down by the basset hound as the door shut behind Dook. She grumbled as he crouched, looking up at him. He put his hand on her back and smoothed across her fur, rubbing at her side. Lula snuffled at his hand and rolled onto her back, belly up. Teddy scoffed. "Belly rub slut." But he did as she wanted, rubbing at her underside affectionately. "Are you mad at me cause I yelled at you last night?" He patted her belly. Lula tilted her head back and sneezed, her little stomach jolting with the force. She raised her head back up and licked at Teddy's hand, grumbling contently at his touch. "That looks like a yes to me. Look I love you baby, but you were throwing a fit at 2 something in the morning, I kinda had to tell you to shut up." Lula looked him in the eyes, their matching copper eyes, and she scoffed. She scoffed. He matched her response. "You are such a menace! But I love you, you're my little trouble maker, you keep getting in the trash and I'm gonna have to lock it or something when I leave." The pitbull cooed, rubbing at Lula's face where her ears would cover. Dook trudged out of the bathroom soon after the water in there turned off, turning back and tossing the towel back onto the sink in there. "Whatta 'bout the trash?" He asked. Teddy shrugged, occupied with the dog. "Prolly need to take it out before Lula decides it's breakfast. We forgot last night." Dook hummed in understanding, pushing the bathroom door shut with a foot. "Ill do it inna second." He told Teddy, turning towards the kitchen and heading off that way.

"When she start getting in the trash?" Dook called back, turned into the portion of the kitchen hidden from the living room. The spaniel squinted as he dug through the cabinet, trying to block out the light filtering through the door to the balcony. He grasped a cup and filled it up with water straight from the sink, chugging it down steadily. His head probably hurt so much cause he was dehydrated. He finished that and set the glass down on the counter, turning around and heading directly over to the trash can. He pulled the bag out of the recepticle, tying it up at the top. Teddy came up to the side of him, reaching up above him and snagging a box off a shelf. "No idea." The pitbull brought the box closer to his face, staring skeptically at it. He shook and, cereal fell from it to the floor. Teddy turned the box around in his hands, jaw dropping dramatically. He looked at Dook, turning it around to show him. "That Furby got in the cereal! The audacity! The confidence! That little rat!" Dook went wide eyed, staring at the box fearfully. "They can climb??? Look's like it's livin' in there!" He gasped, poking at the torn bag through the cardboard, the plastic of the bag shredded at the corner.

"I guess!" Teddy sighed exasperated, holding out the box for Dook to take and look over further. He took it from his brother hesitantly, head quirking as it swapped hands. He tilted it back, looking into the box through the hole. Pretty much just darkness, a bowl worth of cereal actually left after that Furby raided their kitchen. It felt odd though, heavy for how much was in the container. He flipped the box in his hands, smoothing his paw pads over the image on the front. Dook raised his head and took the box in one hand, holding it up by the shelf. He placed half of the box on the wooden surface, but he paused. If it's destroyed he shouldn't be putting it back. He inched it off the shelf again, holding it steady where it unbalanced. He'll just put it in the trash when he replaces the bag.

Behind him, where Teddy was clattering around in their kitchen, the pitbull bent down to get to a cabinet, his loose t-shirt hooking onto the handle of the pan on the counter. The metal disc slipped off the granite plastered countertop, brushing by Teddy's perked ear as it did. The pan flung over his shoulder, hitting the floor with a horrible ringing church bell like boom, spinning around in it's spot, lengthening the noise. The box in Dook's hands fell to the floor as he involuntarily slapped his palms over his ears, pressing his flopped appendages over his ear holes. As the metal continued to ring out noises as the vibrations shocked through the cookware, Dook hunched, turning to look under his arm at the owner of the noise. Teddy craned his neck behind him, arm positioned odd as a result. He reached back and pressed his fingers to the center of the disc, pushing it down to the ground and halting the dreadful sound.

He turned his eyes to Dook, who met his eye once he saw him looking, and swirled his hand by his perky ear. Dook slipped his hands off his ears, one going by his side, but the other remaining close as he dragged it down his face, palm over the back of his neck and rubbing his rough paw pads over his skin through his fur. The pan was plucked up by Teddy, hands wrapped around the handle. "Ooh, sorry man." He apologized, pushing the pan back onto the counter, less precarious than it was before. Dook huffed, "It's cool." He laced his fingers together and pushed, though he'd already cracked his knuckles before. Instead he craned his head to the side, furthering the motion until his neck cracked pleasantly. He bent down into a squat, hand raised out in front of him to grab the box. Just before he could lean forward and snatch up the cardboard, his entire body froze.

There, right on the other side of the box, lay yet another Furby. It's neon eyes pierced into his soul and injected dread in his heart, starting to thump mad. It had the same hateful eyes as the other one, though this one was cheetah spotted, blue tuft of hair at the top frizzled out like an agitated cat. It's ears were slowly raising up as they shared terrified glances, the white bellied little baby stuck to the spot much like the bigger dog-man. Dook kept his night blue gaze locked firm on the thing, dead staring into it's cold ice white eyes. "Teddy." The spaniel called hesitantly. His voice wavered with a cocktail of negative emotions flip flopping dominance in his brain. The pitbull, who'd stood up by the stove in the time it took for Dook to notice the Furby that'd tumbled out of the top of the cereal box, twisted his head over to him, brows furrowed at his tone.

He first laid eyes on his brother, squatting down, hand outstretched by the box, not looking up at him. He followed the tragectory of Dook's hand, trailing up past the box. His face dropped into something stoic, looking back to his spaniel roommate. "Dude. It's not gonna hurt you. Just, try to pet it." Dook refused to leave the eyes of the Furby, shaking his head. "It's gon' bite me Teddy. I swear to god, come get this thang." It felt like the shaved fur on Dook's arm was standing on edge. He pushed forward inch by inch even as his nerves cried anxiously, hand moving snail like in the air. As he inched closer, the baby opened it's mouth slowly. Despite his best judgement, he moved closer, hand near the top of it's head, just out of reach. "Just pet it." Dook glared at his brother. "Whaz it look like I'm doin'?"

He shifted onto his knees, and the thing jumped forward at him and hissed, hissed and snapped at his fingers. Dook yelped, hand shooting back and scrambling to his feet. The Furby tumbled back, raising onto it's toes, hissing frightfully at the massive figure. It jumped at Dook, latching it's cat like claws into his leg through his thin pants. Dook positively SHRIEKED, ears flying up and sticking there, shaking his leg out violently. He scrambled onto their little kitchen table, pushing a hand at it's face as it tried to attach it's rounded beak on his flesh, but it didn't let go! It clung to his leg painfully, lighting up the nerves and stabbing through his skin with it's kitten sharp claws. Teddy rushed across the room, halting as Dook's leg flung out near where he was going. "Get it off! Get it off get it off get it off! Grab it Teddy!" Dook yowled, whipping the Furby around as he flailed frightfully, whining cause it wouldn't budge in the slightest. "Stop moving Dook! Can't grab it if you're freaking the fuck out!" Dook flipped onto his tailbone, kicking his foot out trying to dislodge it from his leg.

He felt as something trickled down his calf, halting his movement as where the Furby had latched on burned with pain. He whimpered and laid back on the table, covering his face with his hands. Teddy grabbed his ankle and raised his own knee up on the edge of the table, propping Dook's leg up on his thigh. He snagged the back of the Furby's neck, or where it approximately would be, and snagged the scruff in his fingers firmly. With his other hand he slipped a finger under the paw of the Furby, between it's tiny paw pads, and squished it's foot, spreading out it's toes. He pushed up on the foot, and Dook gasped as the talons of the bird creature pulled out of his calf, continuously whimpering like a hurt pet as the Furby was still stuck. Teddy proceeded to do the same thing to the other foot, pulling the Furby baby away from Dook. He placed it's bottom on his hand, and slowly let go of the scruff, quickly petting down it's back before it could turn around and bite his fingers. He scritched behind it's perked ear, and it turned to jelly and slumped forward on his palm. He twisted his hand around to face the Furby, rubbing his thumb on the side of it's face by it's beak. The baby leaned into the touch, silvery eyes drifting up to Teddy's fuzzed face. It flinched minutely at the dog like features, but at the gentle touches it was soothed, purring gently in his hands. "That's not fair." Dook whined, pulling up his pant leg to check the damage. Three little holes on either side where the Furby was attached, sluggishly dribbling a thin trail of blood down his leg, darkening his fur slightly as it filtered past the strands.

Teddy tilted his head at the Furby, ear folding over from the hair of weight. "You just gotta be nice with em. They're really good with kids. Won't bite you if you're fast. Here just hold on a second." Teddy stepped forward, and Dook lowered his leg so it hung off the table like the other one, hesitantly looking towards his brother as he was leaned back with his weight on his hands. "What? Teddy, uhn uh, uhn uh." Teddy stepped closer, placing the baby in his lap, it's back to his stomach. Dook stopped breathing, trying not to move. The Furby shuffled on his thighs, trying to find a flat center on the curves. It's hidden nails caught and pulled on his pajama pants as it placed it's feet around. Dook huffed, sucking in air, chest starting to lightly heave. He shifted his weight on his left hand, his free hand shaking as he cautiously raised it up and manuvered towards the baby. Hesitantly he slid the back of his fingers down the Furby's cheetah patterned back, it's fur sleek and soft, untouched by age that'd turn it course. The Furby flinched, unaware it was settled on a person. His hand shot back and it swivled it's neck around at him, twisting like an owl. Dook whined involuntarily, shoulders shaking, breathing uneven through his nose as he tried to calm his unwilling hyperventilating. The baby looked up at him, locking gazes with the frightened dog. Teddy hovered near the two, watching the interaction heavily. "It's okay Dook," Teddy soothed, stepping over towards the entrance of the kitchen behind Dook as Lula trotted in, moving past the three of them to her bowls by the fridge. "Just pet it, you got it."

Dook's chest heaved hard, and mortifying enough, tears slid down his bare face, mouth dropping open slightly to breath since he couldn't figure it out through his nose. Teddy's eyebrows furrowed together, cocking his head, a light laugh escaping his throat. "Dude." Dook sobbed at that, trying and failing to get his breathing under control with deep breaths, but after those his lungs fought him, chest swiftly huffing up and down like a furnace puffer. The baby continued to stare into his soul blank faced, eyes inching just barely side to side. It's mouth was cracked open minutely, huffing like it was mocking him. It turned it's cylindrical body around, it's head not moving with it's body. It huffed with him a couple more times, and then opened it's mouth wider. "Kah ay-ay u-nye wah! Bar-bar! U-nye mee-mee dah boh-bay doo? Kah dah boh-bay too." It said, it's high pitched voice unusually loud as it reached his ears.

Dook whimpered and covered his eyes, legs twisted together at the ankle and tail tucked close to his thigh. Though his younger brother couldn't see it, Teddy's lips turned up at the edges, and eyebrow quirked down curiously. "He's tryna talk to you dude." He told Dook, stepping closer and resting his head on the spaniel's quivering shoulder. "He's not gonna do nothing, he's sweet." The baby turned to Teddy, looking between the two brothers. It looked up at the pitbull, eyelids wide in curiosity. It pointed a foot at Dook, poking at his stomach that flinched under it's touch. "Mee-mee Dah boh-bay. Doo?" Teddy snaked his hand over Dook's lap, petting the opposite side of the Furby that he was facing. It leaned to his touch but looked up at him expectantly, awaiting his answer. "I dunno what you're askin' me little man but you sound confused." The Furby seemed to frown somehow, opening it's mouth and nipping gently at Teddy's wrist. Teddy took his hand back, confused now too. The baby turned back to Dook and pushed it's face against his stomach, rubbing the side of it's head over his t-shirt. Dook jumped and trembled some more. The baby continued it's nuzzling, it's tiny body rumbling with a kitten's purr. Dook sobbed, breathing deep a couple of times. He peeked through his fingers, down at the cuddling Furby.

With it's head down, it was almost kinda cute. The baby pawed at him with it's other foot, like it was trying to pet him. "Oh my god that's adorable!" Teddy swooned quietly, his long bony tail whacking at the wooden tabletop he stood next to. Dook's own tail swished at the noise, and he scoffed lightly. The Furby stopped it's nuzzling, looking back up to Dook's tear filled blues. Something in Dook's chest twisted, near his heart, when he met those silver rings and he covered his eyes, gasping out of his control. Teddy's face dropped, brows together sympathetic. He reached over and scooped up the Furby in his hands, standing straight. He snagged the box of cereal off the floor, turned on its back. Teddy turned to the living room, striding quick across the room. He opened the front door and set the baby down on the walkway to the other apartments. The clown colored baby from last night stirred as the door opened, wiggling around on it's side pushing itself to it's feet. Lula pushed past them out the door. She trundled down the stairs out to the little field to the side of the apartments, doing what she came to do. After that she took the opportunity to trot out elsewhere in the field and roll around in the dry grass. Teddy dumped what was left of the cereal onto the floor in front of them, quickly pushing the door closed as he stepped inside before they could decide to come back in. He twisted the lock and walked back into the kitchen, throwing the box at the trashcan despite the lack of a bag and wrapped his arms around Dook, still in the same spot, resting his head on top of his. "I'm sorry dude, I wasn't tryna freak you out." Dook shook his head underneath him. "It's cool." Dook took the time to work on just breathing, untwisting his legs and rubbing at his eyes to rid himself of tears.

He sniffled and raised his head up, Teddy moving his chin over so he could do so. He wiped his knuckles over his eyes again and got up off the table, huffing a breath. Teddy stepped back and leaned against the wall, watching Dook, through his face was hidden by his ear. Teddy looked around the kitchen, taking inventory of their available resources. "You want eggs dude?" Dook laughed and sniffed once more, a gaspy inhale forcing itself past his defences. "Yeah." Distantly outside he heard Lula baying, and when he looked out the back window he saw her barking up at their window. "I'll go let her in." He said.

When he crossed the room and opened the door though, and was met with the eyes he so feared, he quickly slapped it back shut. He frowned at the wood, already completely done with this day and it hasn't even started. He's cried before noon, got scared the hell out of twice, thrice now by these rat demons, and they ate their cereal. He cannot WAIT to see the band again.

Chapter Text

Yeah so, it was a couple weeks before he got the opportunity to play with the band again, but it was well worth it. In the span of the past two or three weeks, the Furby issue had gotten worse. So much worse. Cause now, they were consistently popping up in their apartment, even more furbys, and raiding their kitchen, and they'd had to go to Mama Larue and get some old baby locks to put on all the stuff in the kitchen. Even the oven! Thank god they didn't know how to use the oven or the stove, but those baby bastards started piling in in the oven at night to sleep and narrowly avoided an untimely demise on the off chance that Dook looked in the oven before he preheated it. That was quite a horrific sight that had him waking up his neighbors at 5 in the morning with the volume of his shrieks. And cause he knocked over a wire shelf in his haste to escape the kitchen. He just wanted to make muffins man!

And just before he left on the roadtrip to Orlando, the babies, yes, the babies. For some reason it was mostly the babies that came into the apartment. But anyway, he'd left his bedroom door open when he fell asleep, and the babies had come into his room and burrowed under the covers with him. Cute right? Not for him. It was downright terrifying to wake up in the middle of the night to be greeted to a million glowing eyes from the streetlight outside. He slept with Teddy that night, twin bed be damned. The babies won the bed for the night. And probably while he was gonna be gone. It's gotten to the point that Lula's gotten used to the rainbow of Furbys that have come to reside in their apartment, and she just jumped in bed with the Furbys by the morning time.

They stopped getting into the food though now that it's locked up. They've resorted to stealing fruit out of the trees and he's pretty sure he saw one of them eating a worm outside, but they've started to come back into their apartment to rest. Him and Teddy have no idea how they've been getting in, and they've even told their landlord, but his landlord can't find out where they're coming from either. They're gonna get someone to come pick the Furby group up and bring them somewhere, but they don't really have the money for that yet, and the Furbys aren't that bad of a problem as much as Dook despises them. If they really want the furbys gone in the moment, they just throw some food outside and they scramble out the door. There's only like, 12 of them anyway. Teddy should've never given them food, but at least they could control that now. But they'd still come back and try on the occasion. Mostly they just get stuck trying to get in between the tiny gap the baby lock allowed and the rest of the babies would gather around Teddy's door and yell a mix of nonsense and barely English at the wood till he got up. They'd taken to waking the pitbull up at odd hours of the morning so his brother could pull a Furby out of the gap in the cabinet door after a failed attempt.

So basically, he's been terrified of his apartment for the greater part of a month and he's resorted to taking Lula for walks with him and going all over New Orleans cause he couldn't stomach the thought of coming home and seeing all those goddamn furbys staring him down again. They knew how to work the T.V! They both started unplugging that when they had to leave for work. It's just been a lot. And he's been sleeping awfully. So bad he nearly fell asleep at a park bad. He probably did fall asleep for a little bit but Lula started barking at some passing bikers and nearly yanked him off the bench with her little self.

So he couldn't be happier to get back in his van and jump on the highway to go meet up with the band and go wherever they were playing this time. He'd be gone for the next couple days. Got his drums in the back, space suit somewhere in the backseat, yelling along to Over The Border by A Flock Of Seagulls to keep himself from spacin', dressed up in shorts and a tanktop and barefoot cause his A/C was still busted baby! He even had his ears tied up cause it was getting really hot now that it was nearing full summer and he was sweatin' bad! Dark fur sucked. He could tell it'd be better if he was all white cause the white spot on his chest and his tail didn't burn as hot as the rest of him. He'd bet he'd get tan just from the sun beaming through the windshield.

By the time he'd gotten up to the stage behind his drums one last time, he was pretty tired. Hadn't slept well on account of the Furby's plaguing his nightmares. Even away from them he was haunted. He might start going grey with stress. Make him look like his dad. Or like Willie. Aww dang. Made himself sad. Well anyway, he'd finally gotten to play his drums again, and it was really just as amazing as it usually was. But... He'd missed a couple cues, couple endings, basically the whole band noticed something was up when he started spacing real bad in the middle of a skit and completely forgot how to talk. So that was fun. They just barely saved it trying to feed him lines with what they were saying and he kinda just nodded along. So, a little embarrassing. He'd take a little embarrassment any day though if it meant he could play his drums. He didn't get to play em much since the walls in his place were already paper thin and he'd get booted in an instant making noise like that. Just kinda sucked he was dead tired by the time he got to play again. Dook sat behind his drum set, curtains drawn after the show, head down rubbing at his face.

He yawned heavy, his cooled leather gloves smooth against his skin. Billy Bob and Rolfe migrated to center stage once the stage was hidden, congregating idly with the rest of the band about the quality of performances this time around. He peeked over his fingers, hands over his cheeks, at the group, their excited energy despite his tiredness enough to soothe his overwhelming longing for human interaction. It was kind of a constant thing with him, but it was nice to just sit here with people who liked him. A hand laid over top of his head, and he jumped, snout turning upward as he looked up. He squinted when he found nothing, looking lower, way lower. Mitzi furrowed her eyebrows, grinning a smile of diamond wide across her face. He smiled at the sight, blinking at her slowly. She rubbed her palm against his head, petting at him like she tried to do with everyone in the band. Her hand dropped down his ear and down his neck as she took it back to her side, staring into his eyes expectantly, almost making him uncomfortable with the sheer intensity of her youthful stare. "Well?" She asked. He cocked his head. "What?" Mitzi giggled, swinging her hands behind her back. "We haven't seen you in forever and you're sittin' here half asleep! Yesterday too! What's up with that?" She said, catching the attention of Billy Bob in front of them. He turned towards the two, a thumb tucked on the long cut arm of his overalls. "Yeah Dook, ya seem a little out of it. Somethin' botherin' you?" Billy Bob piped up, looking him up and down curiously like his mother would.

He wiggled in place, averting his eyes to the legs holding up his cymbal. "I jus' been." Dook sighed. "Sleepin' bad, havin' nightmares. Haven't really been able to get to sleep anymore causa these... Furbys." He spat, elbows bent, hands out, turned palm up and clenched like claws. "Furbys!?" Mitzi shouted, delighted. She bounced in place, hands clasped together in front of her chest. "They're so cute! I've never seen one before!" He huffed as he thought of the sheer amount of agitation and stress he's been put through just having to be near these things, how many times his dreams have been nothing but those eyes everywhere, those faces in the corner of his vision. "I've seen too many!" He shouted. He's going insane over these things and he can't imagine driving back home to that. He can't. Can't do it. He covered his face and sighed, shaking his head. "I can't sleep," Dook whined. "They stole my bed."

Beach Bear came up beside him, resting his palm over the back of his neck when he bowed his head. "That's rough." Dook nodded. With his other hand, Beach Bear flipped over his palm. "But like, just put it outside?" Dook whined, growing ashamed as he felt his eyes prick with tears that he fought off like hell. He sighed. "I can't. I can't touch it, I can't even look at it! They freak me out so f- so so bad. And they're in my house! I can't even be in my own house anymo' cause of those lil' bastards!" Mitzi gasped besides him and he huffed. "I know! I'll go to hell for swearing, I don't care! Not right now," he quelled. Mitzi shook her head, "How can you call them that! They're so sweet! They like wearing little hats and the babies are adorable!" She squealed, her hands shaking at her chest at the thought.

Mitzi furiously waved her hands up and down over her front, bouncing on her toes and squeaking in her throat. It made Dook's bones itch with the urge to copy her, clenching his fingers into claws rhythmically and fluttering his fingers together. He watched her rock back and forth on her heels to her toes, basically vibrating in place. His mind started drifting, not even thinking of anything, just a pleasant T.V static that fuzzed over his brain and made him blank, only thing filtering through being the touch on his neck. Beach Bear cocked his head down at him, brushing his thumb through the fur on the back of Dook's neck, turning to Mitzi. "Like little top hats? I'd kill to see that. I would probably actually stab somebody for that. I'd do jail time for a Furby in a top hat. Where do we get a little top hat? Can you make one? Can you buy one? How much would they charge for a little top hat? Would they be for hamsters?" He shook his head, hair flipping around everywhere, snapping his fingers at himself, blinking heavily. "Off track. You have a Furby infestation?" Beach set his icy blues back on Dook's head, since he still had his face down. He waited a couple of seconds, staring intently down at the dog's costume.

With the opportunity, he studied the jumpsuit, the fine glitters sparkling up at him in light refracting circles, blurred in his hazy vision like the cameras on T.V. He crossed his other arm under the one on the drummer's neck, brushing his fingertips across the sandpapery fabric. He flicked his hand, retracting it swiftly from the odd feel. He snapped his fingers near Dook's ear. "Yo, dawg, Furby infestation, you got it?" Dook shook his head minutely, still staring heavily down at the floor of the stage. "... there's only like..." He waved his hand non-committally. "...thirteen of em'." He mumbled. His eyebrows furrowed. "Dog? Whatchu callin' me dog for?" He finally looked up at Beach Bear, craning his neck. Beach Bear raised his eyebrow. "I call everyone dawg. You my dawg, man." Dook squinted at him. "I ain't yo dog. I got a name, I'm not no pet." He said. Beach Bear's face turned up in realization. "Oh! No man, like, you're my dawg, you're my homie. Like it's a, it's like," He turned his gaze up to the roof, like the stage lights could tell him. "It's like calling someone your brother. But they're not your brother, you're just real tight with em." Beach Bear turned his hand on it's side on Dook's shoulder, and back down. "Y'know?"

Dook blinked at him. He opened his mouth, sitting there for a second. "...Yeah, I dunno whatchu talkin' about, but dat's cool." He shrugged. Beach Bear clicked his tongue. "Yeah, right, anyway-! You need help getting rid of em? I don't got nowhere to be anytime soon, haven't seen mucha New Orleans yet. Might as well knock that off the list and help you get the evil furbies outta your bed." Mitzi jumped out of her fluff inspired stupor, clapping her hands together. "Ooh! Can I come? I wanna see em! I'll help you get them out!" She offered, stepping closer, nearly boxing him in on both sides with the two of them. Beach Bear, unfortunately, slid his hand off him and held it on her shoulder, keeping her in place before she could step even closer. "Jeez Mitzi calm down." He laughed. She smiled sheepishly, backing up a little, smoothing her hands down her skirt. Dook took the time to process their conversation, working it out. "If ya guys want to you can. Just gotta ask your mom." He tilted his head to Mitzi.

She rushed off without another word but a happy squeak, jumping off the stage into the game room in search of a phone. Beach Bear replaced his hand over Dook's shoulder, rubbing at the shoulder pad he had on. "I'll ask my mom too." He offered. Dook snorted. "Go ahead." Beach Bear shook his head. "I needed a chance to get on my bike again anyway. The highway is my therapy." The polar bear raised his free hand up towards the ceiling, eyes closed. Dook gazed up at him, dark sapphire stare soft. Beach Bear resumed his earlier position, head back down at the spaniel. Beach smiled warm at him, prompting Dook to do the same. Though his was more wobbly. Beach had crows feet by his eyes. Dook hadn't noticed before. He was too far across the stage usually. It made him look a little older, despite his similarity in age to Dook. Same age as Teddy, 25. It didn't look bad though, not at all. All the lines of his face were just little stories, quirks of his. Like constellations. It probably meant he smiled a lot, or maybe it was squinting from the sun. He did look tanner than when Dook last saw the polar bear. Beach Bear tilted his head, blonde hair falling past his eyes, smirking now. "You like what you see?"

Dook turned impossibly red as Beach Bear started cackling beside him, the spaniel turning his face down into his hands. The surfer gasped from the force of his laughs, continuing his own amusement. Dook huffed shakily, heart pounding against his ribs like a door to door salesman. He raised his head back up before he gave himself completely away, looking off to the left where Beach wasn't. Unwillingly his voice slipped lower, some sorta goofy impression he'd defaulted to before, somethin' like Marvin the martian. "Haha, yeah I gotta get rid of these Furbys! I had to put baby locks all over my kitchen!" Dook cracked his knuckles as he got up, stepping off the little platform his drums were on.

Beach Bear caught his breath in the meantime, nodding at him. "Hoo, yeah, they get into stuff, had a friend in college with em too." He stepped around the front of the drums, coming up next to Dook again. The curtains ruffled and Mitzi poked her head under them, pushing herself onto the stage with her hands. She got her feet under her and bounded over to the two of them. "I can come! My mom'll come get me on her way back home." Beach Bear raised an eyebrow. "What's your mom doing outta state?" Mitzi shrugged. "She said she was in a meeting and she couldn't talk a lot." Dook nodded, patting at his sides.

Beach Bear dug in his pocket and held out a pair of keys, jingling them near Dook's ear. His ears bounced. "Oh, right." He took the offered object. "I'm sewing pockets in this thing." He pulled at the leg of his jumpsuit. Beach Bear clapped his hands. "Alright, we all ready to go? Mitzi who you riding with?" He pointed his hands at her. Her eyes went wide, lips turning up even as she tried to suppress it and perhaps seem less childlike. "Can I come with you? I haven't been on a motorcycle before!" She clasped her paws together. Despite being 15 now, she was just as cute as she was when they first joined the band, 11 years old and so full of energy and excitement. It was already 4 years being in this band, huh? It didn't feel that long to Dook, though at the same time, it kinda did. It's an odd kind of emotion, a sense of time deprivation maybe. If that was the right word anyway.

"Yeah, I think you're old enough now, I was fifteen when I got on a bike." Beach Bear shrugged, and Mitzi jumped up and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you!" She shouted. Beach Bear laughed, and Dook smiled beside the two, folding his hands together around his keys. He was a little glad anyway cause he had to get out of this jumpsuit before he started driving and it'd be easier to get it off in his van. He had his stuff he was wearing before on under this in preparation cause the drive was LOOONG. He wouldn't be surprised if Mitzi ended up changing her mind along the way and jumping in the van with him. It was just the reality of band life. Gas was basically the first thing in mind, at least for him.

So the three of them were outside after Beach Bear and Dook talked to the manager of the place for a little bit. Finished up what they were doing in the building, got their instruments loaded up and headed back out. The rest of the band wait outside, Fatz and Billy Bob talking by their cars, Looney Bird perched directly on top of Billy Bob's head, Choo Choo saddled on the grizzly's hip. The bird wobbled on the brown bear, but he didn't fall, he beat his wings to stay upright a little better, surprisingly stable for probably being a little goofy on the gas. Choo Choo tried to reach up and grab Looney Bird's toes from below.

Rolfe leaned against his pristine cherry red ride, rubbing at a spot on the trunk with a rag that Beach Bear had seen him pull out of his car before. Rolfe usually ended up waiting outside his car until he saw the rest of the band drive off, watching them all go by one by one. He wasn't... always a jerk. It was kinda hard to remember that Rolfe was controlling Earl and probably putting on an act, but Rolfe could be cool sometimes. A little bit after Dook had gotten stabbed, long story, it was around the time they first started the band, it turns out Rolfe had gone off around the mall investigating and getting reports from workers at the mall and he sued the absolute hell out of the place. Dook didn't know how that ended up going, cause he only heard about it through Beach Bear, who heard about it from Mitzi from Fatz from hearing a phone call from Rolfe. Yeah Dook had a bit of a hard time understanding that part from the polar bear.

Mitzi hurried up to the two chatting bandmates, waiting as they finished up what they were talking about. Fatz put his hand on her shoulder, sighing exasperated, but amused. "Now what are you bouncin' around about for? You look like ya dancin' on hot coals!" Billy Bob chuckled beside him. "We're gonna go get the furbys outta Dook's bed!" She squeaked. Fatz laid his hand on her forehead. "Are you gettin' a fever?" Mitzi pushed his hand off her. Billy Bob shook his head, Looney Bird squawking as he was jostled. "Is that's what's botherin' Dook? Furbys in his bed?" The grizzly laughed. "Is he havin' nightmares or somethin'?" Mitzi nodded, "Yeah! That's what he said. But they're in his kitchen! And they stole his bed! Real ones! Baby ones!" Billy Bob went wide eyed. "Real ones?" He smiled. "The babies won't do nothin', they love people. What's stoppin' 'im from leavin' em on the porch?"

Mitzi raised her hands palm up. "I dunno, he said he's scared of them. I just wanna put one in a top hat." Fatz huffed, and Choo Choo babbled something that vaguely sounded like "Mixspy." But it was hard to tell through his unhearing induced accent. "Well, you three have fun wit' that, I'm assumin' you got Beach Bear tangled up in that mess. I'm getting going here soon, I'm tryna get home befo' my baby Esmeralda gets the chance to soak her bunions! Stinks up the whoooool' house! Hoo! I gotta open the winda's myself, cause she neva' remembers." He put his fists on his hips, sighing somewhat fondly. Billy Bob smiled, patting at the hood of his own car. "I'll prolly follow yew out after a whil', me 'n the Looney Bird, and little Choo Choo, are gonna go see Granny sometime soon. She been writin' us a buncha letters, I think she's gettin' lonely." Looney Bird wobbled above him as he lowered his feathered head closer to the rest of them. "Yeah! She's goin' coo coo! She saw a tiger in her backyard today!" Looney's grizzly bear buddy laughed. "That was a kid Looney." The bird shook out his wings. "Right." Choo Choo clapped his hand, reaching up and snagging an avian toe. Looney Bird squealed, ripping his foot away.

Beach Bear and Dook started walking up to the group, Beach Bear holding up a red jacket. Dook stared distastefully at the dyed leather. "Smells horrible." He said. Beach Bear furrowed his brows and raised the jacket to his nose. "Just smells like my trunk, jacket smells like it always has." Dook crossed his arms. "Smells like Ariel." Beach Bear shrugged. "I mean, it was her jacket so I'm not surprised. What, didja not like her or something?" The dog took his focus off the garment, looking to the asphalt. There was a lot about Ariel he honestly didn't like, mostly cause she was a cheating liar, but it went in before that. She just had this nasty vibe to her, it made his skin crawl anytime Beach Bear had brought her around to their shows. Clinging to him and dragging her nails through his pristine white fur. He couldn't exactly say why it irked him. She also just, smelled awful. Like the under the surface kinda smell. It was too horribly sweet, fake. "She cheated on you? An' she gave me bad feelin's when she looked at me. Medusa." Beach Bear stopped walking, making Dook do the same. He paused a second, thinking.

"No, like, when you first met her," He tapped his face. "And after that too, kinda looked like you, like really genuinely hated her, right off the bat. Was the feeling that bad? Bad choice from the start?" Dook tilted his head. "I didn', think I did. I dunno, she just, felt really fake. It didn't feel like... she..." He shrugged, at a loss for what he could realistically say. "I dunno. I can't... read people, too well." He flopped his hands to his sides, palms out in front of him. Beach Bear contemplated that, turning back and walking again. Dook followed after a second. "Ah, well. It should fit Mitzi at least. I don't wanna get her on there without something on the top. Kneepads fit everybody but jackets, not so much. Might be a little big on her though." He held the ruby red leather up to the sun. Admittedly, Dook did think the jacket was pretty, it was almost brand new looking even being in the trunk of Beach Bear's bike for nearly a year now. If he remembered right Beach Bear had given it to Ariel sometime after they got together so they could get on the bike together safely, but then they'd broken up, and Beach had his sad period and had it covered up in his trunk, but he never got rid of it cause it was expensive and reusable. And cause it really was pretty, Dook'd probably wear it himself even with the jewels.

Beach Bear had sat down and meticulously sewn rhinestones onto the lapels and up the sleeves, even though he had no idea how to sew. He had called Dook at 3 in the morning asking him how he was supposed to do it, and kept Dook up for three hours more talking about nothing in particular. It wasn't like Dook was opposed, it was nice to talk to him. It was just that he paid the price the next day working, cause he sliced his hand open when he was fighting with a really rusted and busted up car he was scrapping and zoning out at the same time. He tried pulling on the metal stupidly and the jagged edge dragged down his palm pad. Yeah, stupid him, cause he took his gloves off and forgot to put em back on cause he thought his hands were slipping on the wrench he was working with before with sweat. It was freaky looking at the deep wound, had to get it stitched. Still has the scar down the middle of his right hand. Like it'd go anywhere, right?

He was brought out of his musings once the two of them got over to the other side of the parking lot where the band was. Rolfe's ears perked up once he saw the two of them past the other cars, the rag thrown to the side before they came up. "I knew my nose couldn't be deceiving me! I thought she took that fabulous thing when she stormed off the last time I saw her. She could never coordinate her outfits with it. Never! Red and green before it's Christmas? It's an atrocity, It's a spoken rule to not pair red and green until the holidays! Common sense!" He turned his nose up at the travesty. Beach Bear shook his head. "Rolfe man, you don't even wear pants. And you're wearing flannel, is that not Christmas?" Rolfe crossed his arms hautily. "You don't wear a shirt. And flannel is not inherently Christmas, it's a nice pattern over a solid color shirt, it pops. One without the other would look ridiculous!" From inside the trunk of his car, a growly voice rang. "You always look ridiculous Rolfe! Only geeks wear flannel! It's for pajamas!" Dook pointed at the car wide eyed. "How'd th-" Rolfe slapped at the car. "If it's not in season then why did I find it in the summertime when I bought it?"

There was a smaller whap on the car. "You found it in a senior formal store!" Rolfe turned to the both of them. "Don't listen to Earl." Beach Bear nodded slowly. "Riiiight. Well, we're gonna go soon." Rolfe shrugged, though a small smile turned up at the corners. "Good riddance, back to the Arctic?" Beach Bear scoffed playfully. "I'm not going back to that wasteland. Not until Christmastime. Full circle huh? Do you wear flannel on Christmas too?" Rolfe snorfed. "Of course. Green flannel pants, red satin night shirt. Every year. I look so fabulous every time I could never change it, it's tradition! Little Earl has a matching opposite set!" Dook chuckled at that. "Lil' pajamas for the puppet? I should do that for Lula." Beach Bear cocked his head. "Lula?" Dook looked up at the polar bear. "Yeah, didn't you see her when you came over that one time?" Beach Bear shook his head. "Nah man, I dunno who that is." Dook mirrored Beach Bear's look. "Oh. She mighta been outside, you weren't there long." "She? You gotta girlfriend or something?" Dook shuddered. "Ew, definetly not. That's gross Beach Bear. See ya Rolfe." The polar bear furrowed his brows, eyes to the wolf's brown as Dook walked off to the others. "What?" Rolfe leaned back on his car, waving half hearted at Dook's back. "Dogs. Pack animals."

Dook stopped next to Mitzi, Fatz's eyes rounding on him. "Dook! There ya are! Mitzi here's tellin' us about Furbys, that true?" Fatz double checked, pointing in his direction. He shivered. "Yeah, too true. They keep gettin' in somehow." Choo Choo twisted around on Billy Bob's hip, reaching out for their drummer. Dook held his hands out for him and Billy Bob let him take the baby, and Dook swung him onto his own hip. Immediately Choo Choo started batting at his ears, and Dook bopped them around as the black bear swung his tiny arms. Beach Bear strode up to the group, dropping the jacket on Mitzi's head as he went to stand by Dook on his right side. She bent down a hair, swiping it off her head. "Got an old jacket you can wear on the bike." Beach Bear reached over and rubbed a hand over Choo Choo's head.

Mitzi marveled at the garment, running her fingers across the stitched on gemstones. They glimmered in the sun, though a little dull from being in a dusty sandy trunk for a while. "It's really cute!" She slipped it on over her sweaters, zipping it up, holding out her arms. Choo Choo swiped his paw over Beach Bear's palm, grabbing at his long black nails curiously. Dook reached over and flipped at the belt on the bottom of the jacket, having seen Beach Bear tie it up before he left before. Mitzi looked down when she felt it move, grappling the strips and looping them into each other, pulling it tight and securing it. "It's sorta big, but it fits. It'd probably fit you better." She smiled, poking at Dook's collar bone. He raised his arm. "Mm, I got my van to drive. Maybe some other time I'll try." He flicked his eyes up towards Beach Bear for a second. "If ya ever want a riding buddy sometime." He added, hopefully. Beach Bear grinned. "Hell yeah man, that sounds great." Billy Bob stared hesitantly. "You're bringing her on the motorcycle? It's pretty far ain't it? She ain't never been right?" He looked between the polar bear and the mouse, searching. Beach Bear scratched at his neck. "Yeah, but we'll be safe,"

Mitzi nodded confidently by his side. "And she can switch to Dook if she wants." He added, and Mitzi frowned a little. He caught her look, patting her head between the ears. "It's 9 hours, if you wanna stay on you can, but you got the option." She nodded, tracing her nails between the lines of the white rhinestones on the sleeve. A chain over the right side glimmered and shone in the light, a metal seashell hanging from the lapel where the chain and the keychain were snapped down. Like the poem, where the girl turns into seafoam? Beach Bear thought it was cute. Ariel did too. Mitzi held the adornment up with a finger, admiring the intricate painted pink swirls on the silver shell. Beach Bear sighed. Dook stared up at the guitarist, and rest a palm on his arm. Beach Bear caught his eye and smiled. "She missed out." Dook said. The hot morning sun beamed down on them, making the dog's face grow red. Beach Bear shrugged. "Yeah, she wasn't worth it." Mitzi piped up to their lefts, directed towards their older bandmates. "We'll be really safe! Dook will be with us too to make sure." Dook's face turned skeptical, cocking his head. Mitzi quickly backtracked. "Beach Bear is a responsible adult!" She said. The two older band members shared a look, and Beach Bear rubbed his neck. The group stayed silent for a minute. Dook kicked at the ground with his boot. Choo Choo grabbed at his ear, and got his hand gently batted away.

Beach Bear offered a hand out to the two. "I swear on my life nothing's gonna happen. No risky stuff." Fatz took his offered hand. "Hey, it's her momma you gotta deal with. You keep this ragamuffin safe. We need our female vocalist." They shook on it and Billy Bob took his hand. "I trust yew, just have fun and be safe. We both are gon' head out now, we gotta get back to our loved ones it seems." Fatz nodded, holding his hand out to Dook. The spaniel took his hand off the polar bear and wrapped their hands together, shaking, and doing the same when Billy Bob offered. "Yeah, I gotta get back to my Esmeralda. She'll be waitin' all day for me." Billy Bob jumped a tad as Mitzi wrapped her arms around his stomach, returning the favor as well.

"Bye Mitzi. Bye you guys." He took the baby black bear back from Dook, turning and shuffling around the front of his truck, Looney Bird dropping off his head onto the hood and hopping onto the roof. Beach Bear reached over and opened the passenger side door, Looney Bird squawking a thanks and a goodbye as he dropped and scrambled into the vehicle, pulling the door shut with his beak. Billy Bob got Choo Choo settled in the car seat, sliding in next to him and swinging the door closed. The rest of the band shuffled out of the space between the truck and another vehicle, standing by the rear of the small car beside them. Billy Bob waved at them as he pulled out, Looney Bird watching them out the back window as the truck turned. Mitzi pulled the leather jacket off, hunching as she raised her sweaters off her, fixing her loose tank top underneath. She held the three things in her arms, probably waiting until they got on the bike to put the jacket on in this hot 9am weather. They had to come back to this Showbiz to talk with somebody, but they all ended up playing a extra show or two this the morning for a paid offer.

Fatz bid the rest of them goodbye, patting down his tux jacket for his keys as he walked off to his car. He turned quickly, hustling away. Though it wasn't fast enough to avoid Mitzi's hugs of terror. It left the three of them to their own, free to go whenever. Mitzi head past the way she came before, back to Rolfe, surprising him before he could do a thing. He froze as he leaned away, allowing her to continue to cuddle him. He sighed and patted her head, telling her goodbye. Beach Bear waved Rolfe off as they passed, making their way to where their modes of transportation lay waiting. Beach Bear grabbed a helmet off the back of the motorcycle, pushing open his trunk and swiping around. He pulled out another leather object, laying it over the bike.

Mitzi skipped over to the side. "You can fit this on right?" He gestured towards her plate like ears, and towards the helmet, flicking the visor on it up. She dropped her stuff and grabbed the headgear from him. She pushed it over her head, her ears flattening against her forehead, covering her eyebrows. "Yeah it fits. Looks good right?" Beach Bear grinned. "You look like a biker, yeah. It's cool. There's a strap under your chin, you gotta tighten it probably." He swiped his pointed nail over his own. Dook leaned against the side of his van, watching the two. Beach Bear stepped over to her and she tilted her head back, letting him fumble with the unlooped strap. He clicked it in place on one side, and she pulled at the helmet, fingering between the strap. She raised her thumb up. "Alright good." He patted the top of the hard plastic, reaching over the bike to grab Mitzi's sweaters and throw them in the trunk. "I'll take you around a little bit before we jump on the highway. It's kinda weird turning." Beach Bear told her, looking towards Dook as he slipped his legs into these leather half-pants over his beach shorts. He buckled the chaps at the top around his waist, pulling the belt comfortable against his fur. They really framed his figure, it reminded Dook just how big Beach Bear's legs were. His hips were right around where Dook's upper arm was, if they were standing next to each other. It was kinda cute seeing the funny pattern of his shorts peek through the cut of the leather in the front.

Beach Bear shrugged on the black jacket he usually wore on his bike, buckling the belt over the open zipper. Mitzi copied him, putting her own jacket on. Beach snapped his fingers, pulling Dook from his haze. "...Yo! We're goin' around the block, shouldn't be more than 10 minutes, if that." Dook raised a brow. "Yeah man, I heard you the first time." Beach Bear shrugged, slipping on those gorgeous matching finger cut gloves. "Didn't hear me the second and third." The spaniel hummed dismissively, pawing blindly behind him at his van door. "Oh. Huh, yeah, I'm gettin' outta this befo' I sweat to death. You guys have fun." He pulled at his door handle, cracking it open and slipping in. Beach Bear squinted at his back through the darkened glass. Mitzi offered the giant bear a look of her own. "Furbies are getting to him." She said. Beach Bear tilted his head, sighing. "Guess so." He pushed his own helmet on, swinging a leg over, saddling the bike. He pushed it up straight where it was resting on it's kickstand, holding it steady. He pointed out the foot stands lower to the sides of the back seat, the seat itself slightly raised compared to where Beach Bear was standing over. "Put your feet there, you can hold onto me but there's handles too." Mitzi put her foot on the stand and hopped up on the back, resting her hands on his shoulders. "You're gonna have to lean with me when we turn." "Lean?" Mitzi squeaked.

Dook kicked off his boots, shaking his hat off his head and pushing his gloves off in a quick few seconds. It was even hotter in his oven of a van, instantly making him sweat as soon as he'd gotten in. He put his arms over his head and swiped at the back of his neck, pulling off the big collar circling his head and pushing the zipper a portion down his back. His arms swung down, reaching behind him the other way so he could pull the zipper down and push the whole space suit off of him, shaking his tail out after it was pulled through the hole in the back. He threw the outfit to the other side of the backseat, sprawling out on the seats and huffing heavily.

It felt weird having his tail shaved. It was 50/50 on whether or not he shaved it when he shaved all his fur off, but he did it again after a while and it felt odd. It usually had long, feathery furs hanging off the underside, but it's getting hot out and the fur was getting real long so he clipped it off. Dook's ears perked as the engine on Beach's bike roared to life, and he watched as Beach Bear and Mitzi backed out of the spot, eyes trailing them as they did so. The polar bear flicked his visor down, pulling his feet up off the ground as they rode down the lot. Dook watched them go until he couldn't see them out the back window, sitting back and scrubbing his hands over his face. He was still a little tired, but it wasn't the kinda tired where he'd end up conking out in an instant after insisting he's fine, like he'd done many times while drunk. Nah, this tired just got on his nerves, making his eyes water and making him yawn heavy, and he just wanted it to stop. Nap be damned, he just wanted to get home to his bed. Furbies be damned actually, those rats'll have to get out of his bed one way or another by the time he went to sleep.

Dook climbed over his center console and into the driver's seat, opening the door. He reached over and put the key in the ignition, twisting it and listening as the engine turned over. A thumb pad pressed over the A/C knob, and as soon as he twisted it, he jumped out of the van, punching the door shut as the horrible screeching of the air conditioner commenced. He jumped around as his bare feet touched the burning hot asphalt, yelping and hopping onto the side bar on his van, clutching the roof even as that also burned him.

He glared at the stovetop hot surface, pointing at the ground. "Now that's too damn hot! I dunno why Motha Nature's pissed off, but I didn't do nothin'!" Dook put his palms on the roof of his van, pulling himself up backwards and settling on the hot metal. It burnt his thighs as he sat, but it'd fade soon enough. Rolfe poked his head past the other cars he was saddled behind, double checking the noise. He strode across the lot over to Dook's van, watched by the spaniel, and leaned over the hood. Dook shuffled, pointing himself towards the front of his vehicle. "What's goin' on witchu?" Rolfe waved a hand, elbows on the hood. "Everybody else left already, I'm just figuring out where I'm going after this." The wolf huffed, resting his chin on his folded hands. Dook tilted his head, contemplating. "Why dontcha try to get back in that club they kicked you out of? It's been a year or two right? They might not remember you by the time you start tellin' jokes." Rolfe scoffed. "Like anyone could forget this charming complexion. They couldn't understand good comedy if it hit em in the head with a frying pan. That clubs full of losers." He flopped a hand in front of him, palm down.

The wolf tilted his head, chin resting on his hand, fixing Dook with a firm stare. "You know what bothered you about Ariel?" Dook's eyebrows furrowed up, leaning back despite his distance. "Huuuh?" Rolfe rubbed his nails over his vest, his black nail similar to Dook's own manicured nicely, nails blunted smooth and short, a shiny sheen over the top. Rolfe had bragged about nearly everything, but he'd yet to do it with his nails. It was surprising with how nice he kept them, it was what stuck out to Dook the most with Rolfe. The wolf tapped the tip of his nails over the metal, scratching at a dent, picking at the one spot of white paint left on the hood. "Why do YOU think you didn't like her? I noticed as soon as she came in the first time." Dook cocked his head. "You watching me or something?" Rolfe shook his head. "I watch everyone. What stuck out to you?" Dook looked off to his right, at the empty parking spot. He shrugged. "I don't know. She just made me feel weird." Rolfe leaned back on his heels, arms slipping off the van.

He came around to the drivers side, stepping up and resting his arms on the top of the van regardless of the awkward angle. He peered up at Dook, smirking heavy. "She had what you could never have." Dook narrowed his eyes skeptically. Rolfe tilted his head towards him, brushing his ear on Dook's leg. "We've all howled up the wrong tree before, read the signs wrong." He hesitated, something Dook hadn't seen him do before. Rolfe stared into his night sky irises, something odd in his gaze. "Hounding after a man, straight as a pole."

Dook's eyes went as big as dinner plates, head jumping back, taken by surprise. "You're gay?" He said. Rolfe laid a hand on his leg, shushing him even as Dook had nearly whispered. "As the rainbows above. Seems like you're in the same spot I was, my little fledgling. I knew as soon as I heard you about the jacket. She smells bad, because she's your rival. You want to fight her, because youre fighting for something bigger, a prize. I see how you look at him." Rolfe gestured with a cock of his head behind him. "You'd go belly up at a mere chance of approval. You can't let him breeze past you. You'll only regret it as the years pass." Rolfe told him mystically, never parting from their intense stare down. Dook had leaned back slowly as Rolfe had gone on, hands on his van roof leaning far away. He nodded swiftly. "Uh huh. Yeah, couldja maybe back up a little bit, you're kinda," He swiped Rolfe's hand off his thigh. The wolf shuffled over to the other side of the bar he stood on. "Mmhm, that's better, that's perfectly close enough." Dook fixed his legs closed. "Yeah uh, that's great and all, but, I can't really do anythin'. Cause uh, I don't, like Beach Bear like that, and, he's, a woman-dater." He pointed at the empty spot.

Rolfe stared him down. He raised his hand over his mouth and snickered. Dook frowned. Rolfe turned away from him as he giggled, shoulders shaking heavy though his sounds were restrained. He leaned over the van and howled with laughter, covering his face as he roared. Dook's jaw dropped, the sheer audacity. "Now I am sick an' tired of being the joke, what the hell's so funny now?!" The grandiose wolf giggled as he hopped off the step up bar of the van, patting at his vest. "You're more clueless than I thought!" He bellowed. Dook hopped off the top of his van to the scorching ground, marching up to the front of the wolf as he laughed. "What's so funny? I ain't in the mood to put up with your cryptic bullshit! Are you messin' with me? What's your problem?" He pushed at the taller man's shoulder, though he was only 6 foot to Beach Bear's 8. Rolfe stumbled back, still laughing, but he stood up a little, hand on his furred thigh holding him up, wiping at his eyes. "You wouldn't be able to tell a wombat from a whale! " The wolf wheezed, his tail whipping amused behind him. Dook growled at him, tail much the same as the ventriloquist, for a way different reason. "I'm not stupid Rolfe! Didja come over here just to make fun a me? Were you lyin' ta me?" Rolfe continued to laugh, making his blood boil. Dook cracked his knuckles, waiting ten, maybe twenty seconds as Rolfe tried to catch his breath. He put a finger up, chest puffing, bent over.

Rolfe stood up, shaking his head. He took one more look at Dook, and promptly threw straight back into cackling. Dook stepped forward, jumping quite close to Rolfe's face as he barked at him. Rolfe gasped and flinched back, wrapping his hand around his snout as the spaniel snarled. "You are NOT going to bark at me, you're not an animal!" Rolfe scolded, squishing his jaw closed. There was a split second of of rational thinking that flashed through Dook's head, but his sleep deprived, stress clutched, agitation fueled mind worked for him, twisting up his fist and he swung with as much force as he could muster, aiming for anywhere that wasn't directly in the face, though that wasn't much of a help. He caught him right under the eye, hitting hard bone against his knuckles. Rolfe jolted back, feet backpedaling quickly as he hovered his hand over his injury. The silver wolf blinked rapidly, tears in his left eye from the force. He said nothing as he was hit, recovering as he hunched. Dook waved his hand lightly, heart pounding, whole body quivering with a fierce emotion shocking through him he couldn't quite discern. "Stay the hell away from me." His voice shook something bad, wavering despite his intent. "We ain't friends right now." Dook went around the back of his van, ducking in from the rear door. He twisted the key, van powering off, pushing himself to the floorboard of the backseat and resting his head and arms on the seat. He pressed his paw pads over his muzzle, eyes slipping shut, trying hard to quell his breathing.

Beach Bear and Mitzi rode down the street from the lot, demonstrating all wobbly like how they're supposed to turn as they ventured out of the parking lot and turned down the street. Mitzi squeaked as they leaned, fighting against it the first time. "Yeah, that's the opposite of what you wanna do." Beach said as they straightened. Mitzi jumped forward and grabbed his waist, much preferring that form of stability to the back handles. "Sorry!" She yelped. Beach Bear nodded. "It's cool! It feels weird, I know! The bike isn't gonna fall, it's gonna wanna go straight causa momentum!" He shouted over the wind. No matter how fast or slow how went, the wind would always drown you out.

Mitzi leaned experimentally to the side to see to their right, trying to balance her weight on the center. It was cool to see the rest of the city on a bike instead of a car. Like it felt realer. She looks down and she can see the road passing under them, little rocks they go by. The little segments of grass whipping behind them. Looking up and she can see the clouds unblocked from the interior of a car. The wind breezed past them heavy, ringing past the white helmet on her head. She rest the side of her head on Beach Bear's back, ghosting a manicured nail down the front of his jacket, the texture smooth, but cracked. The helmet she had on had a muzzle, but Ariel didn't have a snout. She was a human, nothing there but a nose. Did helmets have removable parts? Did Ariel wear a helmet with a snout on it? Would that be more or less dangerous to wear? Mitzi tapped her nails against the leather, fingers catching on a chain on Beach Bear's jacket. She untangled her digits, thumbing over the metal loops.

She wrapped her arms firm around Beach Bear, focusing more on the world around them than the chain on a jacket. Beach Bear tilted his head, catching her attention. He waved a hand behind him, not looking back, as an extra measure, putting it back fast. She held on tight as the two of them leaned into the turn, leaning heavy on her right. Her heart went a tad weak as they went a little farther than she expected, but they straightened out soon enough. "That's perfect Mitz, you got it down!" Mitzi grinned. "That's good!" She shouted. They coasted down the street for a bit, turning left. She leaned unprompted with the bike, looking past Beach Bear's arm to the road ahead. On a whim, she looked behind them, a little surprised to see a car behind them. It was weird seeing the car right there, and not through a window. Her tail blew in the wind off the back of the bike, though it wasn't long enough to hang off the back and touch the wheel. If they stopped though, it'd probably touch the ground and maybe get caught that way. She held tight and brushed her hand by the base of her tail, hooking her fingers on it and pulling her pink tail closer to her torso, lifting her leg and pushing her tail to rest pushed against the bike by her thigh. It kept it from moving freely and potentially getting caught, though not the most comfortable. She'd get over it. The two of them cruised down the road, warm wind blowing through her short fur on the back of her hand. It snaked up the sleeves of her leather jacket, but it didn't venture past her elbows. It swirled over her skin, cycling the air in and out, cooling her down a little as they rode.

Beach Bear flicked something on the bike, and they tilted as they turned into a gas station, Beach Bear walking with the bike a bit as they stopped near the gas pump, pushing the kickstand down. "Hop off a minute." He told her. She jumped off the back of the motorcycle, unstrapping and taking her helmet off. Beach Bear stepped off the vehicle, doing the same with his helmet. He hooked the strap on the handle of the bike. "That fun?" The polar bear asked. Mitzi nodded happily. "Yeah! It's really fun! It's kinda like horseback riding, but a whole lot smoother." She laughed. She set her helmet on the back of the bike. "Yeah probably. Bikes can't jump. Unless you hit something. In which case you'd be flung to hard concrete instead of grass. You think getting kicked off a horse is on par with that?" He grabbed her helmet, opening the trunk and grabbing his wallet outta there. He set the headgear back, shoving the square holder between the belt on the chaps and his fur, regardless of the three or more pockets on his jacket. He didn't even zip it up, but it is pretty hot still. "I dunno, it hurts pretty bad." Mitzi shook her head out, ridding her ears of that stilted feeling. They perked up just the same as before, high to the sky. She kinda messed up her hair though, a curse of helmets that Beach Bear knew too well. "I gotta get gas, then we can get back to Dook and get going down that way." He waved vaguely where they'd come from, but it was too far away to be specific. He stepped around the the back of the bike, messing with the pump so he could get gas and they could be on their way. He got the bike filled up in no time, going across the lot and stepping into the building to pay for the usage.

Mitzi took the time Beach Bear was gone to look around the place, but y'know, it's just a gas station. There's a couple of cars at the pumps too, silver truck, a sleek car but that one's beat up and mint green. It looks vintage actually. It's really pretty, but there's a horrible dent on the trunk and honestly the car doesn't look driveable. So why it's at the gas station and not a repair shop, you couldn't ask her. The wheels all looked straight at least. She doesn't know enough about cars to declare the thing operable or not. The gas station building had a buncha posters plastered on the front, but the building itself was white, lines of teal and purple on the side. Its definetly been there for a minute, there's paint chipping off, revealing some old dusty red color.

Beach Bear came out of the building, three water bottles in hand. He moved over to Mitzi and the bike. "Water." He held one out. Mitzi took it, untwisting the top. She took a couple drinks from it, putting the cap back on to save it for the rest of the trip. Beach Bear placed the white helmet where he'd been sitting, opening the trunk and putting the other water bottles in there, along with the wallet. He pushed it closed, rolling his wrists till they clicked pleasantly. Mitzi reached over and put her own water bottle in the back, rubbing her fingers over the sleeves of the red jacket. "You think you're good on turning?" Beach Bear brushed his condensation wet hands on his face, cooled from the cold water. "Yeah!" She pulled her fingers through her pigtails, detangling the wavy strands. Beach Bear pulled his own hair out of his face, pushing his helmet back on. "Let's go then."

It took them no time to get back to the Orlando Showbiz, turning into the lot, cruising down the aisles till he got to the one they were in before. They snuck down the way, light on the gas. From behind a car Rolfe peeked his head, hand on his face. He was a bit far down, but once they got closer, they stopped behind Rolfe's car, where the wolf stood. Beach Bear idled the bike. "What are you still doin' here? You get bit or something?" He pointed towards where the comedian was holding himself. Rolfe scoffed. "Why don't you go ask your dog?" He slipped his hand off his face. A red crescent framed his eye, starting near the middle of his eye underneath, stretching over by his eyebrow, or where it would be. Beach Bear knitted his eyebrows, palm raising up from his handle. "We were gone for five minutes...?" Rolfe pointed over at Dook's van. "Yeah. Ask. Your dog." The wolf snagged the rag off his car, turning his back to them and going around to the front of his car, busying himself with a spot on the hood.

Beach Bear huffed, continuing to drive. He backed the bike up into the spot backwards, holding it stable. Mitzi swung her legs to one side, dropping off the back. "I don't think Dook would've hit him for no reason." She stated. Beach Bear shrugged heavy, kickstand being kicked down and him hopping off the bike. "Yeah, I dunno, shit happens and I gotta fix it. It happens." He put his helmet on the bike, not caring as it rolled off the other side. He waved a hand at it, clicking his tongue. "See, stuff happens. It's fine, nothing's gonna break." Beach Bear stepped around back and peered down the other side of the van. Unsatisfied he hopped up on the side bar, checking the roof. He stepped down and grappled the back door handle. He swung it open, and Dook's ears shot up, though he hid his face in his arms, facing the other way once the door opened. Beach Bear put his knees on the seat, hunching in and swinging the door shut behind him. He slumped to the side, resting heavy on the backseats and shoving his legs out of the way so he could fit his head under the roof comfortably. He laid on his hip awkwardly, swinging his elbow over the backseats. As he shuffled, the seats creaked, and the leather he was wearing did the same, making him quite the noisy guest. Dook didn't move at all though, keeping his position he'd adapted once the door had opened. "I barely fit in your van at all dude. Can you imagine me in a clown car?" He joked, patting at the interior. Dook remained quiet.

Beach Bear sighed, resting his palm on the seats and pushing his legs to the floorboards, wiggling around until he fit himself between the front and back seats. He put his arms on the backseat, turning his head to the side and resting them over his leather sleeves, copying his position as he could from Dook. The dog sat on his knees, tail pushed against his calf. He hid his face in his stacked arms, his ears hanging over from his barricade. Beach Bear leaned over, sitting up, resting his left arm on Dook's back. The drummer huffed, poking an eye out, but he didn't look at Beach Bear. He focused intently on the stitching of the seat. It wasn't for long anyway, he snuck back into his comfort a couple seconds after that. "Hey." Beach Bear tried, voice as low as he could get it without actually whispering.

He saw the muscle in Dook's ear twitch just slightly, but nothing else. He scratched circles with his nails on Dook's back, something he'd done for Choo Choo usually when he'd start getting fussy. The weird texture of the tank top caught on his nails, swirling the fabric around with him. Dook shakily breathed in. "I know. I shouldn't of hit Rolfe." He said. Beach Bear rubbed his palm over his shoulder blades. "That's not what I'm worried about." Beach tapped his nails, picking his words carefully. "It's there somethin' bothering you man? Like in your life? You just seem, kinda off." He decided, resting the side of his head on his palm. Dook shrugged. "I dunno." The spaniel shifted, moving his weight onto his thigh, switching his legs to his side. "I just..." He shrugged again. "It's been... Just really hard. Everything. Even before tha Furbys. I don't know." He sighed, turning his head to the side, facing Beach Bear with his eyes to the seat.

"I don't..." He flipped his palm up. "Everything is just so... I don't even know. It all just kinda sucks. Like, I got a house. I got Teddy, got Lula. It just kinda feels... Worthless?" Dook tried. He huffed. "What do I have left in this? Whaddo I do now? I mean, I'm saving up for college, but that's years off. I'm stuck. It's just me n Teddy. And I love Teddy, but it's still bad. I don't know," He rubbed at his face, shrugging. "I don't know." He repeated. Beach Bear watched him as he talked, head turning down as he thought. He was quiet for a minute, a little longer than that. He tapped his nails on Dook's back, rubbing at the odd texture. "Are you lonely?" Beach Bear asked him. Dook shrugged again, a huff of a laugh at the bluntness. "I'm sure I am. The only friend I have is my old lady neighbor and my landlord." He said. The polar bear tilted his head. "I don't count?" Dook looked him in the eye, though brief before he went back. "I didn't know if you considered me a friend or not." Dook scratched at the seats. Beach Bear scoffed, surprised. "What? Dook, dude you're my friend, I'd make it really clear if I didn't like you. You're like, my only consistent friend. You get me like I get myself." His naked brows drew together. "You're my best friend man."

Dook turned his head to face his door, huffing weakly, lifting his head up. "I been tryin' not to cry all day." He chuckled wetly. "I dunno why. Woke up like this." He finally twisted around, looking Beach Bear in the eyes, though his vision was blurred through the tears. He sighed heavy. "It's just been a bad couple months. Nah, bad year." The polar bear rest his hand heavy on Dook's back. It took him a minute to gather his thoughts, looking to the car seat like it'd help him. He rubbed at his face, shifting on his elbow.

"Maybe you're," Beach Bear tapped his cheek. "Love deprived. There were like, these experiments in the 60s. They got monkeys, took em from their moms. Put them in cages with two, monkey doll moms, and y'know, they thought that monkeys only stayed with their moms for food and shelter n stuff, so they wire a wire monkey, and a stuffed monkey. They thought that the baby monkey would stay with the wire monkey exclusively, cause the wire monkey had a bottle in it. But the baby monkey basically only stayed with the soft monkey and only went to the wire monkey for food." He raised his palm up on Dook's back. Dook blinked at him, tears running past his smiling face. "I dunno what the hell you're talkin' about." He huffed.

Beach Bear fumbled with his words for a second, looking off to the front seat. "It's uh, well. It's, you, there's a connection I swear!" Beach Bear laughed. He giggled at his own antics, leaning back and looking at Dook again. Dook shook his head. "I'm a baby monkey, is what you're saying?" He pointed to himself with his fingers. Beach Bear shook his head too. "What? No man, it's, there's like actual studies behind it, like you can go crazy. Or, not crazy, but like. Depressed. Basically your skin like actually needs contact from other people, or your brain gives you the sad chemical." Dook flinched back, eyebrows furrowing up. He started laughing, surprising himself. He chuckled low, progressing into high pitched giggles at the sentence. "The sad chemical? Why is my brain giving me the sad chemical??? That's not fair! It's bad enough I'm lonely, my brains gotta make me sad too?" Dook whined, giggling and whining with the mixed emotions trying to fight for the dominant emotion. Beach Bear laughed with him, poking at his ear. "Sad from lack of bitch." The guitarist drawled gravely, poking the sharp tip of his nail into Dook's ear. The spaniel dropped to the seat and cackled, shoulders shaking up and down with the force of it. Beach Bear got louder with him at the sound of his laughter, throwing his head back nearly catching the door. The two of them howled with laughter in his warm van, Beach Bear clutching the back of Dook's tank top like an anchor. Wasn't like he was going anywhere, he was pretty sure he was stuck like this now. Bound to the floorboards.

Dook wheezed, brushing the back of his hand over his face, wetting the fur. "Too damn true. I ain't picked up nobody in a minute. My game, it's flying out of my hands! How'd I get lucky with Joshu- Josa- Josephine?" Dook's heart stuttered hard as hell, thumping against his ribs harshly. Beach Bear looked suprised. "When'd you date a Josephine?" Dook rubbed at his neck, turning his other palm up. "It didn't last long, barely remember her name!" He chuckled weakly. "She uh, I met her at the bar." He pointed. "Like all great relationships." He huffed. "Uh. It was, twoooo, years ago? Sometime after I turned 21, dated em for, 4 months?" Dook half shrugged. "Got me to try vodka. I think they were messin' wit me though, I'm pretty sure they knew it tasted bad." He said. Beach Bear twisted around in the floorboards, "They?" He put his hands on the seat, pushing himself up a little bit so he could push his back against the door. Dook looked back to Beach Bear. "Right, yeah, she. She had a group of friends kinda watchin' us." He conjured up, tapping at his chin. "Didn't last long, dated 'er for three months, maybe more near four. It's getting kinda hot in here. We should get going soon?" The dog pushed himself out of the floor boards, turning back and sitting on the back seat. Beach Bear looked at him all funny, pushing his elbow to the seat so he could try to raise himself up. He put his knees back under him, hunching as he got onto the seat, grabbing the headrest. "I need out of this toaster. We're talkin' about Josephine when we get there, you got somethin' you ain't sharin'." Beach Bear accused smiling, poking his shoulder. Dook gasped, mock offended with a hand to his chest. "I'd neva' lie to you!" He said, just a hair off from the truth. "Yeah, uh huh. You're a shit liar man, you're so obvious." Beach Bear pulled the handle on the door, pushing it open carefully. He swung his legs out backwards, pulling himself out of the van. Dook followed him out the door, crawling through the floorboards like the dog he was. Beach Bear clapped the door closed behind them.

Mitzi leaned her elbows on the bike, chin in her hands. Her tail swept along the ground, swiping anxiously close to the wheel. She looked at the two expectedly. Dook cracked the knuckles on the hand he hadn't before. "I got the sad chemical." He told her. She tilted her head to the side. "That's why you hit Rolfe?" Dook nodded, then he shook his head. "Yeah, er, no. No, I hit him cause." He tilted his own head, looking to the concrete. "I guess he thought I was stupid, cause he was laughin' at me. Said something like that." The two other bandmates faces scrunched up similarity, looking much too like siblings for being unrelated and completely different animals, opposite even. "Well that's dumb." Mitzi put her hands on her hips. "He's said a buncha stupid stuff, but we don't laugh." She huffed. Dook shrugged. "Nah, I laugh at him. I Musta said it funny. I don' really care too much, Rolfe's Rolfe. And I got him for it." Dook rolled his wrists, pushing his arms out in front of him. Beach Bear patted the dog's head. "Thank god. I would have killed him if I did the same. Only reason he hasn't caught these hands." He flipped his hands over, palms covered by the gloves. He had some big hands though, probably cause of his animal features. They were slightly webbed in between the fingers, but he couldn't see it through the glove. It was something Dook had noticed sometime earlier before, but it'd always intrigued him a little bit. Like how it'd feel to spread out your fingers with the webbing. Or wear gloves. Among others. "How does that..." Dook started, waving at Beach's paw. "Does that not feel weird? Like, the uh, the fish hand thing. The paddle hands? With gloves." He poked where he knew the webbing probably was. Beach Bear flipped his hand in a so-so motion. "Doesn't really feel too different. I've always kinda had it so it doesn't feel that weird." Mitzi stared skeptically at his palm. "Paddle hands?" Beach Bear slipped off the glove, holding out his hand to her. She poked at the weird thin skin, moving his fingers around. "It's kinda gross." She said, rubbing at it with her fingertip. Beach Bear took his hand back. "It does look a little weird. Good for swimming." He put the glove back on. "Alright, we should get going. It's 8:00 now, if we get there in time it should be near 5:00, but realistically I'd say, ooh. 7:00 would be pushing it but that's the latest it should be."

Beach Bear walked around his bike, checking the ground for his helmet. Mitzi held it up, and he took it. Dook nodded. "I wanna get home before it gets dark. You guys can stay the night if you want but we got the living room and my room to figure out sleeping." Dook offered. Mitzi nodded. "Good. I was a little worried about that." Dook scoffed. "I'm not gonna kick you out when it's dark. Maybe Teddy'll join the sleepover." He added. Beach Bear lit up. "Oh you got me at sleepover. There's no way I'm not staying now." Dook's face split with a wide grin. "Alright! Yeah let's get goin' I'm ready to be on my way." Dook turned and opened up the driver's side door, hopping up into the van, "I bid you both safe travels." He said mystically. Beach Bear laughed. "You too man." Dook smiled at the two, swinging the door closed. Beach Bear and Mitzi got themselves saddled back on the bike, and they three of them were off. They made their way out of the lot, and onto the road. It's gonna be a while.

Chapter Text

It was just as hot on the way back, if not hotter. It had Dook regretting not being able to cool his van down for very long, since Rolfe had come up and Dook'd hidden after that whole ordeal. So it was still really hot in his van, even when he rolled down the windows while he was driving. Beach Bear and Mitzi ride in front of him, cruising along with him. Yeah. It's a really long way back. He's just glad he didn't have to drive in the middle of the night. His mind liked to play with him when he drove down unfamiliar roads, shooting fear down his spine even though he knew there was nothing there. There was a time a while ago when he was driving back home, probably when he was driving through Alabama, he'd freaked himself out something bad. He'd been going down the interstate, same route he is now, nothing special. He was driving through, and there was a little forest like portion he went through, dark trees on the sides. Swear to God he saw something in the trees, like an actual person. But really, reaaaaally tall. And they didn't look like they should've been that tall, cause it looked like a human. Either way, it'd instilled the fear of the unknown into his very soul for years to come, and he had to get Lula come outside with him when he took out the trash that night.

He was completely right about before, Mitzi ended up hopping in the van with him around the 5 hour mark. She had slunk into the passenger seat while the three of them had stopped at a gas station, and he was getting gas. Mitzi had scared the bejesus out of him when he got back in, cause he hadn't seen her get in whatsoever. Nearly gave him a heart attack. She sat flopped against the door, red leather jacket still on, pulled open wide. "It's hot." She whined. Dook was pressed to his own door, hand to his chest over the seatbelt, breathing heavy. "You're gonna kill me befo' we get there! Heat's nothing to a stroke!" He huffed. He settled correctly in his seat, pulling the seatbelt across himself. "You got a jacket on, ya wonder why you're hot." The spaniel twisted the key, starting the van again. Mitzi slipped her arms out of the sleeves, leaning back and placing the leather on the backseat. She sighed, a weight on her exhale. She grappled the seatbelt and clicked it into place, flopping as she could in the restriction. "Tired." The mouse huffed. Dook reached over and twisted the volume on the radio as they started moving again. Something wet pressed against his arm, and he flinched. His eyes flicked down briefly, a water bottle held in Mitzi's hand. Slowly, he took the offered bottle, setting it to the side where there was a cup holder. Mitzi leaned back again. "Beach Bear forgot to give it to you earlier." She explained. He smiled. "Oh. Cool, thanks. I'll have to tell 'im when we stop." Mitzi yawned. "Yeah."

The rest of the way to Dook's apartment wasn't horrible. It was still a little hot, but it cooled off significantly as the air circulated through the hot vehicle and carried off the heat. The A Flock of Seagulls cassette he had in his van really got it's use in, playing on loop the whole way back. It was good that Mitzi seemed content with it. Even though she was half asleep, she still talked with Dook a little bit, talking idly whenever the song would change. She had her arms resting on the center console, head on her arms, hunched to the side. Her ears flicked against his arm every so often, drifting in and out of sleep as they coasted along the interstate.

Anyway, they finally finished the brutal trip, and they finally got up to Dook's apartment. At 6:32! There's not much left of the day, but Dook would take 6:30 over 2:00 am any day. Dook slipped out of the van, slapping the door shut. He leaned heavy against the side of the vehicle as Beach Bear followed them into another spot. The bike was flipped off, Beach Bear frantically fumbling with the strap on his helmet. He pulled the thing off immediately once he could, huffing great. "Fresh air!" He cheered. "I'm never doing that again. I can't ride 9 hours straight, I'm never doing that again in my life." The white bear breathed, setting his forehead on the handlebars. Mitzi came around the front of the van yawning, standing between the two adults but on the sidewalk. She rubbed her palms over her eyes. Dook shrugged. "That's what I shoot for. Day a travel, day to rest. I'm not driving for four hours to stop at a hotel and drive five more. My money's going to gas, I'll sleep in my van first." Dook twisted his torso around, pushing until his back popped. Beach Bear shook out his frizzled hair, strands flipping around and hanging off his ears all kinds of messed up. Dook twiddled his keys in his hands, the clinking metal ringing out between his fingers. Beach Bear sighed. "In a van maybe. Motorcycle? Uhn uh. I think I've gone numb." He looked downwards, and Dook swiftly looked off to his apartment door, visible from here. "I bet." Dook responded, tapping his nails on his house key. Beach Bear pushed his arms behind him, the leather jacket slipping past his wrists onto the seat. He pushed the kickstand and leaned off of the bike, stepping off. He hooked his thumb under the tuck of his belt, pulling it free and unlatching it from the buckle. He slipped the strips apart and let the chaps fall, bending over and grabbing the leather. Both of those garments were picked up and dumped unceremoniously into the trunk of the bike. Mitzi's sweaters were dragged out of the back, and with a flick of his wrist, they landed on Mitzi's head. He backed up, and flicked his arms out, shaking his head a couple times. He continued to do that until he worked the shake through the rest of him, shaking off like a dog. White furs flung off of him as he shook the loose strands free, a decent cloud of little pinpricks of alabaster furs drifting to the parking spot below. The polar bear huffed, catching his breath, pointing at Dook. "You gotta teach me how to do it good." Dook shrugged. "I just shake, man." The dog followed suit with the guitarist, shaking out, tail whipping around behind him with the force, slapping the metal exterior of his van rapidly with the tip. His own puff of fur followed the movement, floating around carried off by the hot wind. Beach Bear sighed. "I hate shedding." He ran his fingers down his arm, even more white strands pulled free by the soft movement. Dook shrugged. "I got a vacuum."

The three of them pushed themselves to brave the stairs up to Dook's shared apartment, the sidewalk was nothing, but the daunting stairway halted their tired trek. Dook theatrically whined, glaring at the wooden slats. Beach Bear patted his shoulder. Mitzi couldn't really care less, she took one look at the stairs and put her hands on the second step. She pushed herself up the stairs on all fours, sitting crouched at the top, watching the two of them. She flipped her hands over below her head, checking them over. Thankfully, her nails were pristine and unchanged. Dook tilted his head, consideration. He put his hands to the stairs and clambered up the wooden support, taking his place next to Mitzi much the same way. Beach Bear stared up at the two smaller animals, hands on his hips, disbelief clear on his features. "Here I thought we were civilized animals! Delegated to walk on clean hands." Beach said hauntingly, paws turned to his vision. Mere seconds after saying that, he dropped his weight onto his palms, making his own way up the stairs. He scrambled his big self past the obstacle, crouching down, facing the doors. "Nahhhh." Dook grinned, manic. "I'm a street dog." He turned down to the apartment doors, "standing" straight and padding across the wood on his hands on his journey to his door. Mitzi scuffled quickly to his side, fast on all fours even though Dook had never seen her do it. Beach Bear took up the back, just a little bit behind the dog, stumbling clumsy on his limbs. It was like he couldn't figure out how to place his feet, switching between standing on his toes and on his full foot, and swaying when he would. The three of them got to the door though. Dook took his hands off the ground, standing up straight. The teen mouse bounced to her feet, resting her palm on the wall. Beach Bear rose to his height slowly, pushing on his knees. "I don't wanna be old." He whined, working his joints free from the ache. Dook put his key in the door, twisting it to the side. He took it out and turned the knob. The three of them stepped into the apartment, packed into the entry way as Dook stopped.

On the couch, packed tight on the cushions. A pile of furbys. A pile. There were easily 20 furbys all cuddling together on one side of the couch. Their eyes opened and head rose once they were disturbed, staring dead at Dook. The two anthros behind him seemed to pause. Mitzi dropped her sweaters and stepped past Dook, hand brushing over his shoulder as she moved. She stepped a little bit closer, but stopped midway. She stared awestruck at the group of baby furbys. Beach Bear blinked, resting a palm on Dook's head. "That's a lot of babies." He said. Dook nodded weakly, feeling a little bit like the blood had drained out of him. "Mmhm." The dog moved out of the way, standing frightfully over by the T.V. Beach Bear stepped out of the alcove by the front door, pushing the door shut, crossing the room and standing by Mitzi. The mouse drifted over and hunched by the couch, hand reached out cautiously. One of the babies, blue eyed, lavender and purple striped fur, it crept closer to her hand, raising it's beak to her finger hesitant. It seemed to smell her, breathing falling briefly inconsistent as it did. The baby pulled back and pushed itself under her hand, rubbing it's face on her thumb. Mitzi stared starstruck, eyes as wide as her ears. She pet the Furby now that she knew it was okay, rubbing her fingertips on it's skin. The baby purred, and the rest of the other babies scrambled out of their places, swarming Mitzi's arm, jumping at the chance for a little attention. The teenage mouse squealed under her breath, dopamine jumping around in her like a trampoline, hesitant to disturb the bird creatures. From down the hall, Teddy drifted, blinking bleary like he'd just woken up. The pitbull was clad in jeans and his work shirt though, so. Teddy rubbed his eyes, hand dragging across the wall as he walked. He got to the living room, and he jumped. His eyes went wide, and he shook his head lightly, scrubbing his eyes with his knuckle. He was quiet for a second longer. He cleared his throat. "Yo. Uh." He looked to Dook. "We got guests?" He asked. Dook faced his brother. "Huh- Yeah! Yeah, they guests. You met Beach Bear." He points, not really looking, at the polar bear. Beach Bear raised a hand, waving a little. "Yo, what up man? Here for the sleepover." Teddy returned the half hearted wave. "Oh cool. Not much, just woke up to furbies attacking my toes." He huffed. Beach Bear tsked. "That's rough." Dook tapped the T.V stand, nails clicking on the wood. "Yeah, and..! that's Mitzi." He pointed to the mouse, now laying back on the carpet with Furbys clambering across her excitedly. She smiled wide up at the pitbull, waving both hands once they were freed. "Hi! You're Dook's brother?" She asked. Teddy nodded. "Yeah, basically raised 'im myself." He slapped at his chest. Dook's face twisted. "You did not. I thought I was a "Momma's boy"?" Dook quoted. Teddy shrugged. "Yeah, but I watched you when she worked. Every day besides Friday. That counts." Dook crossed his arms. "Willie watched both of us." Teddy paused, looking off for a second, tapping at his jaw like it'd help. "Like he'd do what mom told him." Teddy rolled his eyes, sarcasm thick on his tongue. "The one time I remember him watching us, he got you to jump out of your window. Out the window! Billy should've had someone watching him." Teddy huffed, looking to the ground, face dropping a little. Dook scratched at his neck, eyes to the ground like Teddy. The two of them stayed like that for a minute, but a little bit after, Dook turned to their guests. "Yeah uh. That's Teddy." Mitzi sat up quickly, dumping babies in her lap. "Ooh, ooh, wait, I gotta question!" She practically vibrated in her spot. Teddy caught her eye. He tilted his head. "Uh?" Mitzi crossed her legs, petting blindly across the heads of the Furbys. "Why don't you look like Dook?" She blurted. Teddy snorted, "Cause Imma pitbull. I'm not a-" He waved his hand over at Dook, squinting as he thought. "Something... King Charles spaniel. I don' remember the first thing." He said. "My dad, and also Willie looked like Dook, kinda, but I look like my momma." Mitzi beamed at the pitbull, ears twitching, all curious. "Who's Willie?" She asked. Dook piped up from beside the T.V, trying desperately to keep his vision free of Furbys. "Our older brother." He said. Before Mitzi could speak again, he added. "He's uh..." He tapped his face, trying to find a less blunt way of saying it. "He doesn't... live on Earth anymore, he's uh... in it?" He cringed at himself, scratching lightly at his skin. Beach Bear's face dropped, lips pulled back, sucking air through his teeth. Dook continued. "Yeah, so, he's not, livin' anymore. But!" Dook swiftly crossed the room, reaching behind Teddy somewhere in the hall, picking up a vase, googly eyes stuck to the front, a little mohawk on the top. He held it up in front of his chest, grinning insanely wide. "He's still here!" He cheered, holding it up higher. Teddy cupped his hands in the air near the urn, cheering along with Dook.

The two bandmates stared at the brothers in shock, Beach Bear frozen incredulous where he stood. His lips turned up, shockingly enough. "What???" He laughed, just out of the pure confusion. "That's like, so horribly terrible and funny. Why??? Why does it- why everything? I'm so confused." He dropped his head in his hands. Mitzi watched dimly the urn in the air. She pet one of the Furbys soothing soft pelt, easing just barely the emotion settled in her heart. "What'd he look like?" She asked. Dook's smile fell, eyebrows twisting together at her tone. He lowered his hands, setting the pot back on the table in the hall. "Mitzi it's okay, 's been a long time." Dook said, plucking a picture off the wall. Beach Bear sat down next to Mitzi, on the couch instead of the floor. One of the furbys lost it's balance and tumbled across the couch to his leg. He set the thing back on it's feet, and it crawled onto his thigh. Dook walked over, and despite the proximity to all the furbys, he gave her the picture, stepping back to his brother quickly. Beach Bear leaned over, looking over the teen's shoulder. Mitzi brushed her thumb over the glass. The picture in the frame was of Willie, leaning back against a marbled kitchen counter. He looks around Dook's age, a little younger even. He's got the same floppy ears, fur shaved down short like Dook's. But he's grey, all of him it seems, he's decked out, so it's hard to tell past all the clothing and such. He's very obviously punk, the bright purple mohawk kinda gave it away. He's got a leather jacket, Beach Bear can barely tell the color of it through all the decor, patches tacked onto every square inch. Where there weren't patches were random swirls of paint, colorful patterns twirling across the surface. He had purple pants, black and red band shirt, red gloves pulled on. He was looking off to the side, but the same night blue eyes as Dook were clear through the age of the photo. A couple of facial piercings, lip pierced, nose, double eyebrow. Mitzi's eyebrows drew together, swiping her thumb over the slightly dusty glass. "He looks happy." She swiped the gathered dust off with the back of her fingers. Beach Bear reached past her neck, tilting the picture frame where the glare was blocking his vision. "Mad style points." Beach Bear drawled. Teddy chuckled from his spot, raising an eyebrow at Dook. The spaniel whapped his brother's snout, able to read him without a single word. "That don't mean nothin'." Dook glared. Teddy shrugged. "Sure." Dook frowned at him. "Don't you "sure" me. I'll put you in the trash." Dook threatened, pointing at the pitbull. Teddy crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. "I'd looove to see you try." He said low.

Beach Bear's head jerked up as Teddy shrieked, the pitbull grabbed around his narrow waist. Dook struggled with his brother for a minute, as Teddy flailed trying to free himself from the spaniel's grasp. "Dook no! I'm kidding, stop it!" He whined. Dook got an arm around his chest, hooking the left one around Teddy's knee. Teddy hobbled unsteady, arm wrapped around the back of Dook's neck trying not to fall. "Ah, dude stop! You're gonna fuckin' drop me-!" Teddy squealed as he was hefted off the ground, free leg kicking to keep his balance. Dook wobbled greatly, huffing, switching his balance to the one leg, leaning on the wall. He raised his other leg up, quickly switching Teddy's legs to the right side. He lowered his leg and Teddy basically dropped into position, held up in Dook's arms bridal style. Teddy clutched his brother's neck, tail tucked close to his leg. "Dude you're gonna drop me put me down!" Dook bounced him up in his arms, settling him better. "I'm gonna drop ya if you don't stop movin', ya ass-!" Beach Bear watched the two as they fought, amused, confused, and a little bit dumbfounded. "Noooo!" The polar bear mock wailed. "What did Teddy do???" Mitzi hopped up onto the couch, furbys falling from her as she leapt. "Get him Dook! Put him in the trash!" She cheered, pushing herself up with her hands on the couch arm, pulling herself higher. Dook took a couple steps forward, Teddy heavy in his arms. The pitbull clung to Dook tighter at the words. "No Dook no! You're gonna break the trashcan, we can't afford anotha' one doing stupid stuff!" The drummer walked him all the way to the kitchen, all the way to the back door. He turned, and Teddy basically howled, whining and trying to climb his spaniel brother as they inched closer. "You wanted me to try-!" Dook huffed. From down the same hall, Lula bounded, more power walked, her nails clicking on the kitchen tile as she sped over. "Where'd the dog come from?! What the hell?!" Beach Bear threw his arms out in front of him, now completely baffled. Mitzi whooped even louder, finding great entertainment in this spectacle. Dook turned and dumped the pitbull into the trashcan. Teddy fell back first, yelping terrified, falling into the canister. The trashcan pushed up to his thighs, stopping at his knees and at the back of his head. He clung to the sides of the can to avoid dropping further, staring horrified at the shelf above him. Dook peeked his head past the rim, smirking down at him. Teddy frowned deep, breathing heavy. "That was terrifying." He said. Dook laughed at him, standing up straight as he chuckled. Lula barked and bayed at her now not absent owner, jumping up and putting her paws on his legs, wagging hard and poking her nose into his skin. Dook gasped and he dropped to his knees, cushioning the blow with his hand on the floor. Lula crawled into his lap, her paws flat on his thighs, wobbling as she stood on him. Teddy struggled to pull his upper body out of the can, succeeding in hooking his elbow over the rim and trying to push himself up. "Lula my baby girl!" He cooed, rubbing her face lovingly. Beach Bear huffed at the lack of answers, watching the mess of a home life go down in front of him. Teddy shouted as the can tipped over, but thankfully he got his arm out in time to catch himself. The trashcan toppled to the floor, Teddy in tow. The pitbull wiggled himself out of his prison, pulling his body free. He placed the can back up straight, throwing the untouched trash that fell out back in. Teddy rose to his feet, creeping close to stand behind Dook, cold calculating stare burning the back of his head. He hovered behind him like a ghost, eyes narrowed greatly. Dook looked back at his brother, craning his neck up instead of to the side. Teddy slowly raised up his hand, trying to keep it from view. Hand up, he brought it swiftly back down, whacking him across the snout. Dook flinched, staring boldly right back. "Ya real confident for someone in twisting distance." He faked Teddy out with a swift jerk of his hand, making the pitbull jump back. "Uhn uh, we banned that shit!" Dook glared at him. "You're the one who started it! I thought you were gonna rip my shit off!" Teddy sighed exhasperated. "I was 9! I had no knowledge of a fair fight! Nobody taught me no no regions." Dook looked at him funny. "I woulda been 7! You put the fear of- of-" He struggled, lacking a better, more safe word. "Crotch injuries in my head for the rest of my life!"

Mitzi blanched, and behind her Beach Bear fell back against the arm of the couch and howled with laughter, absolutely tickled pink with that mental image. Dook gaped at his two friends, picking up his dog, getting to his feet. "It was horrible!" He emphasized. Lula groaned as she was hefted up, huffing once she was settled in his arms. "I had bruises!" He pointed his finger at Teddy's snout, poking him. Teddy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and ya punched me for it. I had a black eye. Sounds even to me." Dook scoffed, turning away from his brother, walking back into the living room. He stopped a good nine feet from Mitzi, avoiding that mess. "When'd we even- when did this happen? I thought there wuddn't that many when I left?" He waved his hand at the mouse, upper body flopped over the couch arm. There was a Furby on either side of her head, raking their claws through her golden pigtails. Another on her back, a bunch of them rolling around where her legs rest. 22 in all. Beach Bear pat the one in his lap, twirling it's yellow and orange fur between his fingers. The lazy Furby flopped over, burying it's face into the thick fur on his leg. "I like this one." Beach Bear gently pet it's little tail, the appendage twitching around at the touch. Dook pet the hound dog in his arms, glaring at the little yellow Furby. "Where we even gonna bring em? Do animal shelters take Furbys? Do we got one in New Orleans?" He looked back to his brother, who shrugged. Beach Bear tilted his head. "Yeah I didn't really think that far. I'm here for the furbys in top hats." The polar bear made himself comfy on the couch, shifting lower, resting his calves against Mitzi's back. The Furby tumbled down as he acted essentially as a ramp, slipping down to his stomach. All the baby did was roll back over and nuzzle it's beak through his transparent fur. Mitzi brightened, patting herself down. She pulled a small top hat from the waistband of her skirt, elastic and light. She held it out on her palm. Dook cocked his head to the side, ears drooping with it. "Where'd ya get that?" He pointed. Mitzi looked at him, sheepish smile drifting onto her face, eyes turning hopeful. "The prize counter." She said. Dook's eyebrows furrowed together. "Have you been stealing from the Showbiz's we go to?" Mitzi put her hands on her hips, frowning at him. "Now don't you paint me like a thief! It's the first time I've done it! And the last ." Beach Bear shrugged. "Just don't get caught. And y'know." He waved a paw. "Don't steal. But, just a little thing won't bother nobody, will it Dook?" He turned his gaze to the spaniel, eyelids low, moving his legs open wider so he could actually see Dook past his long limbs. Dook's eyes flicked downward and back to his friend's stare, face gaining a little more color, hand drifting up and rubbing at his neck. "I don'," Dook sighed. "I mean, once maybe," He quickly pointed at Mitzi. "But you know stealin's wrong, a little top hat ain't gonna hurt nothin', but it's a gateway to bigger things. I don't wanna turn on the news an' see you in a prison jumpsuit." The dog said, eyes narrowed at her. Mitzi put her hand over her heart, other hand up. "I'm not going to prison, swear on my life." She offered. Dook stared at her skeptically for a minute longer, and she laughed at his 'serious' face. "I'm not!" Mitzi giggled. She twisted around on the couch, leaning over and placing the small pencil topper on the Furby on Beach, sat on it's orange puff of hair. A wide grin slapped onto Beach Bear's face, and he slipped a finger under the Furby, wiggling the digit, coaxing it into standing. It got to it's feet and Beach replaced the hat on it's head, petting it's side like a reward. "This was worth 9 hours." Beach Bear settled. Mitzi cooed at the little Furby, scritching it's back gently. "Yes it was." She hummed.

Dook sighed, setting Lula back on the floor. The basset hound stretched, standing by his side. "Y'know we gotta get rid of em'?" Dook told the two, stretching his arms out. "They're rats. Monstas. You wouldn't think they wa cute if you had to live with em." He huffed, leaning back against the wall. Lula's collar jingled as she shook off, trundling across the carpet. She made her way over to the two anthros on the couch, putting her paws on the cushion and jumping up between the two. She pushed a passage across the bandmates, walking over Mitzi's lap. She put her full weight on Beach Bear's stomach, hovering over the Furby, getting right up close and sniffing his face skeptically. The polar bear cringed back just a hair, groaning at her heft, but allowed her to continue to smell him. He raised his hand up, and the basset hound boofed bossy at him, tail wagging behind her. She pressed her snout to his chest, snorfing at his fur. Beach Bear patted her shoulder blades, stroking her back even when she jumped a little. "Yeah, you're prolly smellin' all that unfamiliar land. You ever been to the beach?" He asked the pet. Lula snorted once she was content with the new person in her domain, settling down heavy on Beach Bear's stomach. He groaned, patting her side. "Ooh, you're big. And wrinkly. You look like Dook." He turned to the drummer, comparing the two as Dook scoffed. "Mm, no, you're definetly a little cuter. Not by much." Beach Bear leaned and winked at Dook, turning his focus right back to the hound.

The spaniel went completely scarlet, making incomprehensible noises as he stared at the bear. Beach Bear scrubbed his palms over the dog's sides, her loose skin jiggling with it. Beach Bear chuckled. "Yeah, she's cute, but I'm not into pets. You got higher standing." Dook's eyebrows furrowed, utterly and horribly confused. "I'm-" He looked to his brother, then back. "It's good you like me better than my dog?" Dook said, perhaps more of a question than a statement. Beach Bear snorted, catching Dook's eye again. "Yeah, speaking of that, why do you have a dog? Like is that not weird? How does that work, like, family wise? Relationship wise?" He squinted at the spaniel, trying to maybe think of how it is himself. "Yeah! Why is that?" Mitzi added. Dook looked off, considering that. "Mmmh..." He hummed. "Well, it's kinda like, we're roommates? I take care of her 'n all, but she just, does what she wants. She's a pet, but she's got... higher ranking. She's got as much, authority? As we do." Dook waved a hand in the direction of the basset hound and then back behind him to Teddy. Lula raised her head, like she could tell what he was saying word for word. Beach Bear tilted his head, thinking. Mitzi leaned over Beach Bear's leg, holding her hand near Lula's nose. The pet took a considerate sniffing of the back of her hand, resting her chin on the mouse's fingers once satisfied. "Can you talk to her? I think I can hear what mice say sometimes, can you do that too?" Mitzi asked. Dook rubbed his paw pads together. "A little bit. Teddy's better. Sometimes I pick words up, but I usually just hear random barking." It was kind of a mixed bag on what the two variations of dog could pick out in their different languages. Like dog language, it's a lot more of body movement and tones than actual words, but with English, it's just words. Like dogs are looking more for movement, and the way things are said, but Dook is looking more for the sound of the words he can understand. Or barking that's consistently used when doing certain things. It's complicated. Teddy walked closer to the three, standing next to Dook at the entryway. "I hear her all the time." Teddy started. He pointed at the hound. "She calls me some rude things, cause for some reason she picks favorites. Y'know she told me to fuck off this morning?" He turned to Dook for that second. "Cause she stole my spot."

Lula borfed low at the pitbull, snuggling her head on Beach Bear's ribs, nudging the Furby where it laid. Teddy glared at the hound, muttering something low. The polar bear scritched her head with his long nails. "Dawg that's awesome. I wanna talk to a real, like animal polar bear. They seem chill." Dook laughed, shaking his head. "Real polar bears ain't chill. They attack people, and they got a bad swing, they got real big front feet. And a lotta teeth." Beach Bear raised his eyebrows, smiling wide. "Yeah man, I see it in the mirror. You researchin'?" Dook flipped his hand around. "Mmm, found a doca- uh, docud- documentarine. They can just, not eat for 8 months. And their paws are built to not slip, cause they got little bumps on em so they don't slide around. And their skin's black." Beach Bear cocked his head, eyes narrowing in thought. He brushed his palm up his arm, the strands parting to show his skin. "Nah man, I'm double white." Dook chuckled, staring curiously at his band mate's arm, squinting as he thought. He tapped his claw-like nail on his lip, shifting his weight to the side. "It's, probly causa human genetic stuff. You'd prolly get real hot if you were completely black wit' all that fur. But it's not like there isn't any black polar bears. Skin tone genes maybe?" Dook decided. Beach Bear seemed to accept that, tapping his nails on Lula's tag. "Mmm... I've been around an animal polar bear before." He said. "My mom. She was a hippie, but she was like, insane. So we lived in the Arctic. Straight up. She wanted to try to raise me like an actual polar bear or whatever, that's a whole 'nother thing. But sometimes we'd run into real polar bears, and she'd try to talk to them." He brought his hands up, framing his head. "I swear to god it worked. She can talk to animals like nothin'. It licked me! It had babies! It was really really soft. It's like, the most defining moment of my childhood. I think it thought I was a baby, I was like, six." He ended. He brought his hands back down, ruffling Lula's ears. Mitzi put her hand on Beach Bear's arm, staring starstruck. Beach met her gaze. "Take me with you." Mitzi whispered. Beach Bear put his hand on her arm. "My mom's crazy." He whispered back. Dook had a similarly starryeyed look to him, set on Beach Bear, almost downright lovestruck. "That's life changin'." He tilted his head, off guard. "Your mom tried to raise you like a polar bear?" He squinted. Beach Bear huffed, though he was smiling. "Yeah, I don't know! It was really weird, and really terrible. I hated every minute staying there. I love my mom, but she scares the absolute hell out of me." He rushed. "But yeah. It was, really lonely." He tilted his head sympathetic towards Dook, shifting on the couch, sitting up against the arm. "Cause nobody wants to live in the Arctic! We were literally the only ones there. I'm sure there's a town out there or something, but we didn't find it! Well, not on a map anyway. It was really really far away. I'll have to tell you all about it sometime, but it's not gonna be fun." Beach Bear waved a hand, flicking his hair out of his face. Dook nodded, clicking his tongue. "Mmm, will do... So um. We should get these furbies outta here, right?" Beach Bear shook his head. "Haha, right. We should do that before it gets dark."

Mitzi pushed off the guitarist's leg, flopping to the other side of the couch, furbies squeaking as they scrambled to avoid her. They hopped on her once the threat was avoided, patting their little feets on her tank top. Mitzi giggled, brushing her hand over the group of furbies. "Aww," she cooed. "They're really cute though. I'll take em!" She offered, brightening at the thought. Dook stared at her incredulous, pointing at her, and then all around the room. "Do ya- do ya know, how horrible this is? I've been, terag-" He circled his paw, working it out. "Terrified! For a month! You guys are lucky you didn't see me the first time." Dook crossed his arms. Teddy barked a laugh beside him, giggling as he remembered. He looked to the two guests. "Oooh, it was bad. I thought there was a robber cause both him AND Lula were goin' batshit, barking at a little Furby on the floor not even the size of your face." He pointed at his brother. Dook frowned at him. "I was drunk!" He reasoned. "And it was dark. Sesame Street doesn't get that bright." On his side of the couch, Beach Bear shakes his head. "Wait wait wait. Sesame Street? Why Sesame Street? Is it better drunk?" Dook shrugged, thinking. "I dunno! I love Sesame Street. I just put on cartoons if I start drinkin'." Beach Bear considered that, swinging his legs off the couch, raising to his feet. The animals laying on him slid to the cushions below, settling in mere seconds. Beach Bear raised his arms above his head, fitting them against the ceiling, stretching out wide. Teddy scoffed, watching the polar bear with curiosity. "That's ridiculous." He huffed, smiling. Beach Bear's icy eyes shifted to Teddy's, eyebrow quirked. "Huh?" Teddy put his hands out. "You're touchin' the roof! You're fuckin' massive!" He yelped. The polar bear had his head just barely lower than the ceiling, ears almost brushing the rough paint. Beach Bear's pointed teeth shone as he smiled wide, arms back to his sides. "My dad's taller. 9 foot. It's so inconvenient. But, ya get used to it." Teddy crossed the living room, standing directly in front of Beach Bear, eyes following from his ribs up all the way to his face. Beach met his stare, smirking down at him. Teddy scoffed. "Yeah, just." He circled his hand around the polar bear. "Gigantic. Ginormous. I'm speechless honestly." Teddy raised his hands out. "You are a giant teddy bear." Beach Bear put his hand to his chest, nodding slowly. "I'm honoured to be accepted. I... claim my title, of the giant teddy bear. You have truly enlightened me Teddy. I join you in the ranks of Teddy Bearlandia" The pitbull tapped his chin in thought, smiling, looking between the polar bear and his brother. He looked the both of them up and down skeptically, squinting as he did. He turned back to Beach. "You could probably pick Dook up. You're strong right?" Beach Bear turned his eyes to Dook, and Dook felt something funny, like a star bursting, happen in his chest, the polar bear looking him down excitedly. "Oh dawg I know I can." He said. He raised his arms out as Teddy stepped towards the couch beside Mitzi, Beach making grabby hands with his clawed fingers. "I'll hold you like a baby." He offered. Dook smiled sheepishly, and he shrugged. "Okay." Starting to wag like the fool he was.

Beach Bear crossed the room to stand in front of him, and Dook stepped away from the wall, stepping around to Beach Bear's side so they couldn't hit the wall. Beach Bear turned and bent down, squatting low, arms around the dog's thighs. He lifted him easily off the ground, adjusting him, and quickly standing to his full height. Dook yelped as he conked his head straight into the ceiling, clinging tight to the polar bear's neck. Beach Bear gasped and bent down. Dook dropped his forehead to Beach Bear's shoulder, hand rubbing gently at the spot. "Aww I'm sorry man, that sucks." Beach Bear sighed, fixing his arms into a better position. Dook whined, less excited now. "I feel bad for your girlfriends." The dog blinked the stars from his eyes, closing them shut tight. "Exes." Beach corrected. Teddy cackled beside Mitzi, dropping to his knees like it was the funniest thing in the world. Dook whined and flipped his brother off blindly, but Teddy just laughed harder. "That's karma!" The pitbull shouted. "Aha! That's what you get!" Dook's throat rumbled against Beach Bear's shoulder as he growled, head twisting around to glare at his brother. Teddy waved his hand. "Growl at me." He told him, unbothered. Lula barked brassy at the pitbull, joining Dook in growling like the follower she was. Teddy turned his attention to the hound, pointing at her. "Favorites! You're not involved." Her little body jumped when she yapped at him, dropping to the floor off the couch and hurrying over to Teddy, putting her paws on his calf and pushing at his leg like that'd do anything. Suddenly Mitzi gasped, pointing upward. "There's one on the fan!" She said. Brown ears slapped across Beach Bear's face as Dook's head shot to the ceiling fan just a foot away, meeting eyes with the same blue and pink Furby that started it all, a fan blade away. Dook went wide eyed and tried to perhaps put some distance between him and the silver sighted menace, but he couldn't do a thing where he was saddled in Beach Bear's arms, just barely shifting to the polar bear's side as he wiggled. The Furby raised it's ears up, beak opening wide as a heinous hiss escaped it's mouth. Beach Bear quickly set Dook on the ground, the dog putting himself behind the giant polar bear as soon as his feet touched the floor. The clown colored baby backed up on the fan blade, scooting till it's tail hit the base of the fan where the mechanics were. It seemed to raise onto it's hidden knees, swiftly scurrying across the fan blade and swan diving off the wooden slat. It dropped with a determination, slipping past Beach Bear's outstretched hands and tangling it's claws into the fur on the beach bum's calf, dragging down the strands and falling to the floor onto it's feet. No hesitation, immediately it shot over, jumped up, and latched it's beak onto the end of Dook's tail, jerking it's little head around, using that support to reach up and grip it's claws on his appendage. Dook howled in fear, scrambling away from the wall to the middle of the living room where he could see, trying to reach behind himself at his dangling tail and the Furby along with it. "Little dude's viscious!" Beach Bear shouted, moving forward trying to swipe up Dook's tail. Dook twisted around in circles trying to get his tail to swing the right way, yelping continuously as the Furby dug it's sharp beak into his skin. It bit as hard as it could, damage the only thing on it's mind. Dook shouted as the baby's beak slipped past the slight cushion that was his fur, sharp edged beak pinching the skin of his tail with it's horrible jaw strength. Mitzi jumped off the couch, scurrying to Dook's other side, trying along with Beach Bear to grab his tail while the owner of it flailed like he was being electrocuted. "Ah ah ah ah ah ah!" Dook yelped, attempting to swing his tail around with his hips and dislodge the baby. It just jerked in place, burning pain where it's jaws locked tight. Mitzi caught his tail, and Beach Bear wrapped an arm around Dook's own arms, pulling him against his chest, holding him still. Mitzi grabbed the Furby around it's body, holding it up. She stared panicked at the baby, trying to turn it so she could see where it was biting Dook. She pulled the Furby hesitantly, but it didn't give. Dook whimpered at the tug, holding onto Beach Bear's arm like a life support. "It hurts." He simpered, turning his head to press against Beach Bear's chest, soft furs gentle on his face. The polar bear patted at his shoulder. "Aww, he's got you good man, he's pissed." Dook whined at those words, bouncing his leg rapidly on the carpet. "I knowwww..." The spaniel groaned, turning on his feet so his back was to the mouse. It might've made it easier since his tail was facing her all the way now. Mitzi tried to wiggle her nail between the furby's mouth, attempting to pry it's beak open maybe. Whatever she was doing wasn't working, more or less just scratching at his tail, baby still stuck and biting harder than before. Dook flexed his fingers on alabaster strands at the horrible sensation, huffing shakily and trying to keep himself calm. Teddy hurried forward, next to Mitzi. He brought his hand up, and scratched behind the furby's ear, nuzzling its fur gently with his nail. The baby's jaw loosened just a hair. Teddy kept up the act, rubbing his fingers along the furby's back. It's little claws flexed, but didn't let go. Teddy moved his other hand to the baby's paws, repeating what he did to the cheetah patterned one weeks before. He got one paw off no issues, and the other one was removed with a little resistance, kicking it's free foot back at the pitbull when he reached for the other. Teddy pet along the animal's spine, brushing gently it's fur with his fingers. Mitzi hesitantly started to pull the Furby towards her, now that it wasn't biting Dook, more resting it's teeth against his flesh. Dook's tail followed as she pulled, stopping as the bone couldn't bend farther. She pushed her finger against Dook's tail. The baby slipped slowly away from his tail, beak dragging on his skin. The Furby blinked it's little eyes open, realizing what trickery it'd been exposed to. It clamped right back down where it had been before, biting down hard on his tail. Dook yelled, eyes tearing up, burying his face in soft furs, and he swore he felt the skin pop as the Furby's beak sank deeper than where he'd ever be comfortable with, the yellow of the baby's mouth turning a scarlet orange as the blood bubbled up over it's face. At the foul taste, the baby finally let him free, retracting from his tail, and Mitzi pulled it away swiftly. She held it at an arms length, looking between the two points of interest. His tail had two crescent wounds on the top and the underside, small, but rather deep and red for how small the baby was. His tail dropped back behind him. Dook whimpered continuously, a sharp throbbing pain thumping at the site of the attack. "I can't stand these things!" He shouted, voice clutched with emotion. Beach Bear let him free, and Dook grabbed the base of his tail, shaking hand slipping lower down it so he could hold it up in the light. He investigated his wound, checking himself over. Beach Bear sucked air through his teeth, resting his hand on Dook's head. "Man, that's bad. You gotta clean that out." Dook huffed high pitched, chest puffing lightly. "It's the one that jumped me in the living room!" He sobbed. Embarrassingly enough, tears dribbled down his face, swiftly wiped away by his hand. He couldn't even tell why he was crying now, the pain of the bite or just the pure exasperation towards it all.

He turned his head before the rest of them could see, gaspy little breaths coming past his throat, and he tried to steady his breath before he could send himself into a fit. A couple deep, resetting breaths allowed him to keep his composure enough to not look like a fool, holding his tail up lightly as it throbbed. He tried to keep his breathing steady as he turned to the hall, making quick work of padding over to the alcove to the bathroom door. He pushed it open, leaving it there as he swiped his hand up the wall, the lights flickering to life. Bulb needs changed. Beach Bear strode up and hovered in the doorway, leaning down to see past the frame. He didn't say nothing, just watching. Dook could hear the other two debating about the Furby, but he couldn't find it in himself to care right this minute. He dropped into a squat, pulling open the cabinet under the sink. A bottle of rubbing alcohol lay on the wooden bottom, plucked up by clawed fingers and placed on the top of the sink. He dug around in there for a little longer, pushing around a bunch of random things him and Teddy had thrown under there at some point. He found bandaids, but after looking the bandages over, they were definitely too small. Dook dropped his head into his hands, resting his forehead on the sink's base. Beach Bear's claws clicked against the tile as he stepped into the bathroom. The polar bear hunched down to a similar height to Dook with a sigh, swinging his arm around his band mate's back. He swiped his thumb slowly across Dook's arm, tilting his head to rest on the dog's own. Dook huffed, breath coming out shaky past his paws. Beach Bear reached over with his other hand, pushing the cabinet door open wider. Though it wasn't what he was looking for, he snatched a washcloth off the bottom of the cabinet. He reached over and put it on the spaniel's knee, reaching back into the cabinet to push some things out of his view. He swished the clutter in the bottom around, but most of it was just empty bottles of body wash n stuff. Beach Bear pushed the door on his side shut. "You don't have any ace bandages do you?" He sighed. Dook shook his head. "Uh uh." Beach Bear clicked his tongue, looking over to Dook's side of the cabinet. Contemplating the choices he sees, he grabbed the roll of tape under the sink, the impromptu repair king perfect for their back alley quality hospital. Beach Bear patted Dook as he got up, putting the tape on the sink. Dook stood soon after, scrubbing at his face before his hands fell. His face was little more red than usual, and maybe a bit more wet, but Beach Bear didn't call attention to it if he noticed. It was clear he did though, since he was making direct eye contact with the dog, opposite shades of blue locked not so uncomfortably. The bear's sea colored eyes shifted minutely as he searched his face, but never left him. It was quiet in the bathroom, other than the buzz of the air conditioner and the water flowing through the pipes, the only thing Dook could hear was his heart steadily speeding up in his chest. Dook folded his hands together, rubbing his rough paw pads against themselves. His lungs stuttered, gasping lightly from their mistake. Beach Bear hesitantly stepped forward, moving closer to the dog. He came closer, maybe a foot away when he stopped. He rest his palm on the porcelain edge of the sink. Eyelids lowered, his head drifted downward, slow as could be. Dook separated his hands, one inching over, towards the sink. The dog hovered his paw over Beach Bear's hand, eyebrows pressing together, moving just an inch closer to him. Dook could feel the surfer's breath on his skin, it made his face heat up, flushing a brilliant scarlet that Beach Bear would love to see on a gemstone around the dog's neck. The polar bear's eyebrows furrowed briefly, sniffing just a little, flicking his gaze away from his to behind him. His eyes went wide. "You're bleeding on the floor." Beach pointed out. Dook gasped, mind having completely blanked in those 20 seconds of bliss. He twisted around, looking down to find a dollar coin sized puddle of copper on the white bathroom tile, the pain in his tail returning fully now that it was back to the forefront of his brain. Dook quickly bent over, wrenching a towel out of the corner of the room. He dropped the cloth over the puddle, trying to sop up the dark crimson off the tile. Beach Bear stood up quickly, narrowly missing the light fixture. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it behind his ears. A couple curls slipped past his fingers, falling into his eyes. He flicked it away as soon as it came, dragging his hand down his neck. Dook raised the towel off the ground, a reddish orange swirl where the puddle was. Beach Bear swiftly reached over and flicked on the faucet, cupping his hands under the flow. Halfway filled, he bent low and dumped the water onto the floor over the soon to be stain, and Dook quickly replaced the towel on it's clean side, trying to get the blood to wipe away. "My landlord'll kill me if stain her floors!" Dook whimpered. Beach Bear turned off the water, flicking his hands free of the droplets that remained. "Dook it's cool, you're bleeding!" Dook lifted the towel, thank god the tile was back to it's previous off white hue. "You need to wash it off in the sink before it gets infected." He emphasized. Dook stood, throwing the towel back to where it was. He turned and hopped up onto the sink, sitting on the edge. He dragged his tail into the bowl of the sink, smearing red across the white rim. Beach Bear spun the knob again, lowering the force, and Dook lifted his tail with his palm under the tip, letting the cold water run over his wound. The water ran pinkish as it washed away the scarlet, the water making the injury pulse lightly at the disturbance. He twisted his tail around closer to the base of it, hesitant to exaserbate the bite. The other side of the bite was drowned free of the blood, just a weird looking crescent mark that turned red farther in. Dook turned the faucet knob to the right, the water sputtering off. Beach Bear picked up the washcloth, gently raising his tail and wrapping the rag loosely around the tip, the tip of his tail actually stained a light orange from the exposure. The bear very lightly squished his tail, trying to press the water from his tail so his appendage wasn't soaking wet when he had to stop the blood flow. He was careful to avoid pressing directly on the wound, rubbing gently at his fur, coaxing the water out of white and brown strands. Dook leaned to the side, holding his weight up with a hand on the edge of the basin. He reached down and snagged another towel off the side of the sink, hanging from a little hook. He held it in his lap. Beach Bear squeezed a little firmly, making him jump where he sat. "Oops, sorry." He said. The rag was thrown to the corner with the other towel, landing on top of it. Dook grabbed the rubbing alcohol, lips turning downward at the mere thought of what was to come. He pushed the top off, clicking as it released.

Before he could hesitate, he dumped the alcohol over the wound, the little stream dribbling right into the injury. He gasped unexpectedly, flinching back at the feel. His tail shot back behind him. "Ooh shit!" He yelped. Beach Bear grabbed the alcohol as it slipped through his fingers, spilling a thin trail across the sink when it fell. "What?" The polar bear asked, shocked. " 's never hurt that bad befo'!" Dook tilted his head, unsure with that wording. "I didn't expect it to hurt like that." Beach Bear rest his hand on his leg, chuckling soft. "Yeah, it's cleaning it." Dook raised his eyebrow at him. "Course it's cleanin' it, I know that! Better be cleanin' it, hurtin' like it do." The guitarist giggled at that, turning the alcohol bottle in his hands. Dook snagged the bottle from him, flicking the top back open. He snagged and flipped his tail, drizzling the alcohol over the other site of injury, holding strong as it burned. Beach Bear pat his thigh. "Brave soldier." Dook snorted, putting the bottle to the side. He grabbed the cloth in his lap, placing it over his hand. He grabbed his tail, and wrapped the towel around the tip of it. He held his tail firmly, though not enough to make his nerves jump, it was hopefully enough to staunch the blood flow. "I caught those bastards in the bathtub once." Dook said out of nowhere. Beach Bear looked to the closed curtain, and back. "Yeah?" He leaned against the sink. Dook nodded. "Yeah. I just got back from work, and I go in the bathroom, and they're just everywhere, all of em'. The big ones too!" Dook yelled, raising his hands near his head. "I can't, I can't take the big ones. I hate them so much!" He shook his hands out, flinging them violently up and down in front of his chest, clenching into fists as he seemed to force himself to stop. Beach Bear reached over and grabbed his tail, holding it against the cloth for him. "They had the whole gang in my tub! Water all ova', all the goddamn laundry detergent in the bathtub, on the floor. I can't stand these things but I can't even touch em! I had to wait until Teddy got home and I nearly pissed myself cause it was two hours!" Dook ranted. "Ooh, just. Oooooh, I hate these things." He looked over to his side, catching eye with Beach Bear. The polar bear nodded solemnly, tapping his nail against Dook's tail. "Dook, I swear to you, I will not leave until the furbies are vanquished from your house." He stared the dog down, hand out. Dook looked at his outstretched hand, a lifetimes opportunity open to him should Beach Bear stick to his word. He debated himself with what he'd even do with that, decidedly he was too shy to do anything and it'd be another wasted opportunity like however many other times since he'd joined this band. Dook took the surfer's paw, wrapping their hands together tightly. They shook on it, and Beach Bear smiled like a shark. "Needed somewhere to sleep tonight anyway. I can even make do with the floor." Dook cocked his head. "Don' you have an apartment?" He asked. Beach Bear shook his head. "Nah man, I been sleepin' at the beach. I was livin' with Ariel when we broke up." Dook flinched, taken aback. He raised a finger. "You have not been homeless for a- a- a year! Where's your stuff, your board???" Beach Bear scoffed, more a laugh, looking off for a second, and then back to Dook with a sheepish smile, huffing and shrugging. Dook gaped at him, absolutely bewildered. "Youja- you- wh?" He stuttered. "What kinda answer is that??" Beach Bear shrugged again. "You said I wasn't, I don't know man! I don't have much to begin with, I left my board at the Showbiz in Orlando." His grin fluctuated, either like he was trying to hold it down or stop himself from frowning. "And I'm not... like you don't gotta let me stay here, I won't bother you with that. I know there's landlord stuff and all that 'n y'know I dunno Teddy that well n he don't know me. Y'know what, it's cool man, I got, I got a. I got somewhere else I'll go it's fine." Beach Bear looked off to the door, having drifted his gaze basically all around the bathroom but Dook as soon as he started yapping. Dook put his hand on the guitarist's arm, looking up at him. "What? No, Beach Bear." He patted his arm, coaxing the bear into looking at him. "You can stay here as long as you want, long as you need! I don't care what my landlady says, she can go to hell if she cares. But she's nice though, we're like, her favorites." Dook shrugged, smiling up at Beach Bear. "But, no, I dont, I don't care, I'd love if you stayed here. I'm lonely man." Dook admitted, laughing as he did. Beach Bear snorted, shaking his head. "Well, if you don't mind, I mean..." Dook nodded. "I could not care less. You... are awesome, like Teddy can get on my nerves, but you chill." Beach Bear smiled down at him, nodding. "Thanks man. You're cool too." He held his fist out. Dook returned the gesture, bumping knuckles with the bear. Beach Bear smirked as Dook waved his hand a little. "Yeah, you got Rolfe good, I didn't know you had it in ya. What'd he say to piss you off like that?" Dook blanched, looking off. He gathered his thoughts, thinking of what he could possibly pick out to say and not have to lie to Beach Bear. Again. "He um... Well... he was laughin' at me, cause he thought I was stupid I guess? I don't really know. I um." He tapped his lip, treading carefully. "I said that..." He squinted, trying to remember. "I said you was a woman-dater. He called me stupid and he laughed at me. I don't- I can't tell a lot of things, but I know when someone's laughing. At. Me." He put his hand on his chest. Beach Bear's lips disappeared, looking to the ground in thought. His face turned a little sad, surprisingly. He frowned. But then he got a little angry lookin'. He crossed his arms, and Dook held the rag in place again. The bear tapped his claws against his arm, huffing. "Yeah, no, I. That's fucked." He sighed. "I thought he was done being... like that! But I guess not. You can't-" He turned to Dook, one hand raised up by his face. "You can't trust comedians. And I don't even wanna be like that, but you really can't! I've never met a truthful comedian." Dook furrowed his brows. "Huh? Why, what happened?" Beach Bear tapped his foot, clicking his teeth together repeatedly. "Mm, yeah no." He shook his head. He tapped his nails on his face, kicking the bathroom door shut. "Nah, no, he's gonna make me really pissed. I think I'm shaking." He said suddenly. He looked down and held his arm out, sure enough he was trembling. Dook grabbed his friend's arm, hands drifting down to his paw. "Beach, it's okay." He tried to say low. Beach Bear huffed. "It's not! Cause if he. If he ends up telling everybody that I-" He stopped, staring dead straight into Dook's eyes, almost kinda scary with how small his pupils were. "You're cool yeah? You won't- you won't get mad if I tell you something, right?" Dook jumped back, completely struck with emotional whiplash. "I- Yeah I'd never get mad at you." Beach Bear nodded, shaking hand tapping against his face. "Yeah uh," He laughed. "So I'm... Well, I'm not..." He started rapidly bouncing his leg. Dook flexed his fingers, bones itching just watching the bear. Beach Bear huffed. "So I'm gay." Dook blinked at him, looking off to the shower. "And um." His voice started shaking once Dook turned his head. "I don't-" He sighed heavy. "But I like girls too! I'm cool with both but I just- I told Rolfe. Cause y'know, I thought he was gay!" He whispered loudly. Dook cut in. "He is." Beach Bear's head shot over to him again. Dook continued. "He came over to me talking about, fledgling stuff, like, he said he like, saw me... Hounding after a straight guy like he had?" Dook said point blank. Beach Bear cocked his head, mouth falling open. Dook looked away. "I don't... I don't hound... And I..." Dook slipped his thumbnail into his mouth. He stared off towards the wall, heart pounding against his ribs, anxiety quickly turning to fear. "We should be getting the furbies." He slipped off the counter, quickly stepping towards the door. Beach Bear grabbed his arm tight, pulling him back. "You're not gonna tell them are you?" He asked, looking downright terrified, tears in his eyes, chest heaving absolutely horrible. Dook shook his head wildly. "No, no! I don't care that you're gay, that's fine, I am too! I just-" He covered his mouth, too much already said, looking back to the door. He twisted the knob, pushing it open a crack. "I can't- talk right now." He basically ran out of the door, trying his best to avoid the other two's attention where they were trying to wrangle furbies into a box, crossing the living room swiftly. The door to his room clicked shut behind him, and immediately he snagged something blue off his bed, getting to his hands and knees, and shoving himself under the frame, holing himself up beneath the mattress. He held the Grover to his chest tight, head bowed as he curled up on the carpet under his bed. He laid there, and he shut his eyes, just... breathing.

In the bathroom, Beach Bear, decidedly, did not breathe. As soon as Dook left he pushed the door back shut. He slipped down the sink, hands over his face, chest heaving and heaving but nothing seemed to process. His hands drifted up, head slipping lower. He dragged his fingers through his hair, pulling tight at a tangle that frustrated him. If Rolfe ended up telling, or hell, even just acting all weird like he does and letting it slip, Beach Bear's life could just be kissed goodbye. Like he had one to begin with. Never drink with Rolfe again! Cause apparently Beach Bear gets blabby when he starts drinkin' and the secrets come out! He took a chance with the wolf, and he got his soul crushed and grinded up and put into spaghetti. Or pizza sauce. Who does that kinda stuff??? Being gay himself he should know damn well to keep that kinda stuff under tight, tight wraps. Showbiz Pizza Place is a very fun and welcoming place, they're run by some cool understanding people. That doesn't extend to the families that go there, or even the owners he hasn't met. Not even just his job at stake, his family. And there's no chance Rolfe would blab to his mom, cause he doesn't know her, but word gets around doesn't it? He has no idea how his Mom would act! Beach Bear cried out, trying to get his breathing to work at all. He couldn't even deal with how Dook reacted right now, just thinking of that might make him completely pass out. He dragged his nails down his neck, not hard enough to leave scratches, but enough for red streaks. He huffed, trying maybe to rationalize his thoughts. Cause, at the end of the day, it's just Rolfe. Tying into that, who's gonna believe Rolfe? Beach Bear has a buncha girlfriends, automatically shut down. Dook didn't really seem to care about his sexuality, more about what Rolfe said, right? Stuffs fine, right? Yeah? What does he care if people know he's gay, he's got some fists right here that'd love to do some talking. He circled his fists in the air, fake punching the air. His breathing was so out of whack, but it was getting a tad better. Kind of. He sobbed once, gasping, brushing at his face. He can work with this! Couple deep breaths. The air expanded in his lungs, out his nose like a dragon. Cause soon enough he's gonna have to go work out what Dook's dealing with and figure that out. And get the furbies. Whole lotta not that going on. Yeah, he's a big boy, and big boys have their big boy fits, but they're big boys so they can deal with fits on their own. Sometimes. Yeah. Cause that's how he was raised. What he was really curious about is what Rolfe said to Dook to make him act like that when it's brought up. He could deal with Rolfe later, he can't do nothing 4 or however many states away. He wiped his hands down his face, quickly bringing himself to his feet. He shook out his hair, definetly not perfect mentally right now, but okay enough to function. He turned around to face the mirror, face a little red, tears still in eyes, but nothing he can't deal with. He gave himself finger guns, looking himself up and down. "Ayyyy, still hot!"

He dropped his hands, sniffling.

In the living room, Mitzi held up a box. Teddy was to her side, picking up furbies off the couch and placing them in the box. Yeah, that's what they came up with. Cause those two are still in the bathroom as far as they know, doing whatever. Teddy's not stupid, it doesn't take that long to dress a wound. Him and Mitzi have already started getting all buddy buddy with each other, jokes at the expense of the other two, gossip from school, stories of baby Dook and Teddy. Basically Mitzi had wiggled into the good graces of Teddy and she was coaxing as much information about Dook and his brother as she feasibly could. Mitzi giggled as the furbies climbed out of the box onto her shoulders and above, the little cretins squirming around in the bottom of the box trying hard to do the same. Teddy whined, placing even more furbys into the box, one by one, but they just kept climbing and falling. "It's not working but I can't think of anything!" Teddy simpered. Mitzi brushed a couple off her head, tumbling back to the box. "Yeah, it's taking them a while." She glanced off towards the door, the alcove on the wall of the living room the T.V was. Teddy scoffed. "Yeah, they're probably too busy mackin' to come wrangle babies." Mitzi groaned, giggling. "That's gross." She said, bending to pluck a Furby off the floor. When she lowered, the babies took note, jumping out of the box to the floor. Mitzi quickly rose up and one of the babies that was on the edge tumbled out of the box, falling to the ground below. Miraculously it was caught by it's brethren, landing on their heads. The group of furbies tumbled to the floor. Mitzi slapped the box over the disoriented furbies, dropping to her knees and folding her arms over the top. Teddy cackled, dropping to the floor beside her. "Like we need them. We got a whol' box full wit' no help!" Teddy pat the top of the box, prompting a mass shriek from the babies. The pitbull flinched back, flicking the box. "Although, this doesn't look very... caught." Mitzi stared down at the box, and she huffed. "It's good enough!" Beach Bear came back out into the living room, rubbing at his face, tape in hand. Teddy's mood brightened once the bear came into view, tail slapping the floor a couple times. "Finally! How's the tail? Broken? I hope not, we can't afford dat." Beach Bear scratched his neck. "Nah, it's fine, I just need to put tape on it cause it's... a rag. Where's he at?" Teddy squinted at him, and Mitzi tapped at the box. "We thought he was in there with you?" She said. Beach Bear shrugged. "Nah he left before I could get the tape on, cause um. He thought he saw a Furby but it was just a towel." Teddy snorted. "Wow. I dunno, prolly in his room, the one on the right." Teddy pointed behind himself, emphasizing the direction. Beach Bear nodded, taking his word turning down the hall. Mitzi cocked her head, eyes narrowed at the polar bear's back. Teddy clicked his tongue. The two of them continued on with their Furby collection, discrepancies ignored, trying to slip babies under the box instead.

Beach Bear pushed open Dook's ajar door, letting it creak on it's hinges for a second before he swung it all the way open. He took one look around the room and was hit with the decor. First of all, glow stars stuck to every inch of the wall he could see. Millions of em. All over the walls, on the ceiling, on the ceiling fan. The furnishing was sparse, a bed, a nightstand and a dresser basically. But on the dresser, it was covered in a bunch of random things. Tiny metal figures, old busted up vintage and more modern cameras with varying degrees of dirt and dust, some of the camera guts strewn haphazardly, some kinda metal pen looking thing. Beach Bear plucked up one of the little sculptures, turning it over in his hand. A bird made from rusted iron, origami in it's style. He set it down on it's wire feet. He scanned the room, searching for it's owner. He rapped his nails against the dresser top, like a knock almost. "You in here?" He asked into the silence. He rubbed his fingertips over the wood beneath his hand, scratching at a residue where a sticker was before. He was met with more silence, other than a tiny shuffle. Beach Bear leaned, looking past the side of the bed. He caught a glimpse just as Dook pulled his tail under the bed with him, washcloth abandoned beside him. Beach Bear made swift work of meandering over to the side of the bed, getting on his hands and knees to peer under the frame. Dook shifted his face into the blue fur of the worn puppet, exposed eye turned to the carpet. "Are you okay dude?" He asked, first and foremost. Dook stayed quiet, picking at the carpet. Beach Bear sighed, patting at the floor. "I'll get under there with you. I swear on it, I'll get under there if it's the last thing I do." He joked, scratching at the carpet strands. Dook snorted, but he just looked in the opposite direction, holding tight to that raggedy old Grover. Beach Bear huffed, scooting forward and putting his head under the frame. He dragged his upper body under the bed, a little cramped with a couple of boxes down there. The polar bear pulled himself until he was up to Dook's ribs, resting his head on his pale arm. "I'll sit wit ya if you want. If you want me to go you can just, tell me to leave?" He rubbed his fingertips over the scratchy carpet. "I'm sorry I dumped that on you, I didn't mean to freak you out with all that." Dook shook his head, resting his cheek on the head of the stuffed animal. Beach Bear continued. "I don't... If you're not cool... with me... I dunno, I'm still, me. Like I'm not gonna change cause you know now, I just, am me." Dook shook his head again, meeting his eyes. "Nah... no man, I really don't mind it. Ya heard me before, didn't you? I'm kinda... in the same spot." Beach Bear cocked his head. "I thought you were just freakin'." He admitted. "No, I... I knew I liked guys for..." Dook clicked his tongue. "Well I didn't care about guy or girl much as a kid. But I, buried it for the longest time, cause my uncle's weird about it. So I dunno how my dad is, I didn't wanna, make them hate me. Uncle Fido's cool other than that." Dook tapped his nails on the Grover's plastic eyes, paint chipped away to an almost all white and amber. "I found out I was gay causa, hmm. Well I found out about specifically being gay, 'cause when I was a kid, or, in highschool," Dook shifted a bit, swinging his tail over to drape on his leg. "I found, two boys in the band closet. Neva' trust the band closet." Dook pointed. "There's always sometin' you don't wanna see." Beach Bear laughed. "Yeah, I'd be doing some heinous activities in some band closets." Dook tilted an eyebrow at him. Beach Bear continued, adding to the information. "I didn't go to school but hell if I didn't try. I just, I was trying to run away for like the fifth time, but I ended up drifting by a town after threeee days and I went to school for a month. Like I just jumped on a piece of ice, and I was gone. My mom thought I went on some "man's expedition" once someone's dad realized I wasn't supposed to be there and brought me back." Dook blinked at him, working on that. He tapped his nails on the slats holding the mattress up, cheap material clicking on his nail tips. It's how he kept his nails blunt. Or, it's a byproduct anyway. "My mom'd yell at me till her lungs gave out if I did that. A month??? That's horrible, I'd be devasted if I didn't see my kid for a month." Dook wrapped his arms around the lumpy plush of the doll, resting his head on it's forehead, scratching at the fur a little, untangling the tiniest little tangles with the small edge of his nail. Beach Bear tilted his head side to side. "You don't have kids? She didn't really care. I guess she wants me to be independent, I'm not sure. She did a fine job of that." The polar bear grumbled. "Yeah, anyway, sorry. I'm cutting in, what about the band closet?" Dook shook his head. "Mmh! So, I caught two guys in there, and I kinda thought they were fightin' or somethin' at first so I said something, I don' remeba what. But they wasn't fightin'." Dook looked off for a second. "Ran off after th' door shut. I never really thought about guys liking guys. I thought I only liked girls for years, didn' think of being gay. I didn't really think too hard about who I loved growin' up until I worked out I got the fluttery feelin' around both." Dook shrugged. Beach Bear shifted under the bed, laying flat on his stomach, moving one of his arms over his head, the other at his forehead. He looked over to the other side of the bed above him, but not much to see, just some clothes strewn lazily and a tool or two. He contemplated those words. "Yeah?" He asked. Dook clicked his tongue. "Yeah. Y'know. Feels like your heart's flippin around cause you found someone 'couple a degrees too hot." He flipped his palm up, grinning at Beach Bear. "Like uh, oh!" He said suddenly. The surfer lifted his head. Dook adjusted again, tucking his legs close to him. "Josephine! Josephine, is Joshua. I never dated a Josephine! So Joshua, panther, maybe a couple inches taller 'n me. Kinda dresses like Willie did. But uh, when I first saw him my heart tried to bounce outta my chest 'n put a leash 'round his neck like, "This one's my favorite!"." Dook cleared his throat, picking through his options. "So I ended up sleeping with him." He said, blunt. Beach Bear raised an eyebrow, but Dook continued. "Mmh, I mean, not really? It wasn't... sex. Eh? Not important." Dook waved his hand and shook his head, looking off. "We got all couple-y after that for 4 months? But, he cheated on me, caught him and some bulldog on our couch. Tried to make it work after that but he wasn't havin' it and he left. I guess he had a thing for dogs." Dook heaved a great sigh, stretching his legs out from under the bed. "I dunno." He ended. Beach Bear chewed on that, trying to get his own thoughts gathered before he could blurt something stupid. He scratched at his face, rolling the tape on it's roll around his finger. "Huh." Beach Bear patted the ground. "I didn't think you'd like cats. You talk about Poodles a lot." Dook snorted, lips turning up again. "I do love me some Poodles. But, nah, I just kinda, like everythin'. Tall, short, black, white, brown, red, orange, blue. Bear, cat, dog, parrot, human. I couldn't really care less, long as you love me blind." Beach Bear chuckled. "I'll keep it in mind." He continued before Dook could speak. "Do I fit your criteria?" He asked brazenly. Dook's heart jumped, but he smiled anyway. "Mm, yeah, I said everythin' didn't I?" Beach Bear grinned, pulling himself further under the bed, face to face with the drummer. "You did." He reassured. Dook kept up the eye contact, scratching at the eye of the Grover. He stared long, searching. Beach Bear did much the same, locked on the spaniel. The bear's hand moved on it's own accord, ghosting across the carpet, fingers settling on Dook's arm. "Do you have any favorites?" He inched closer. Dook held the Grover firm, tucked to his chest like a school girl's diary. "I-I." He refused to look away, refused to let another thing go. Even as he stuttered. Dook huffed, breathing in a little shaky. "I like... blondes." He tried. Beach Bear laughed a little. "Really?" Dook nodded hesitantly. "Yeah." The polar bear tapped his fingers on his shaved fur, the bronze color peeking between his digits. "What else?" Dook pushed away from the wall behind the bed, scooting an inch or two closer to the middle, closer to him. "Mmm," Dook swiped his thumb over his bottom lip. "Big." He tapped his finger. "All of 'im I mean. Tall." His hand slipped down, nails ghosting across his copper toned neck. The Grover in his arms was slung over one arm, splayed out on the carpet. Not a single avoidance of the bear's crystal pure eyes. "Outdoorsy." Beach Bear rubbed his palm over the spaniel's skin. "You like hiking?" Dook shrugged. "M Sure I might." Beach Bear moved even closer, arm resting against Dook's stomach at the proximity, inches away. "I like..." Dook continued. His heart beat against his chest like his snare, bumping throughout him with the bass of a marching band. "Uh." The bear's hand drifted lower, dragging down his arm, his palm settling right on the curve of Dook's hip. He rubbed his thumb over his skin through his shorts. Dook's tongue peeked out as he wet his lips, laughing just barely under his breath. "I uh." He paused. "I like white fur." He shifted onto his back, Beach Bear was leaning so close to him he couldn't see all of the beach dweller when he was on his side. Beach Bear hovered over him, his hand slipping off of Dook to instead support his weight on his elbow beside the dog. As he did, he lowered, pressing his bare chest to Dook's tank top. It was not at all unpleasant, and even though Beach Bear probably weighed double Dook did from height and muscle alone, the heft that was saddled on his chest was warm syrup, like the warmth of an oven, hot and heavy and full of gooey sugar. " 's that all?" Dook shook his head as soon as he could. He breathed heavy for a moment, chest pushing against Beach Bear's. "I..." His eyelids were low, low as could be when the dog had a headed gaze to begin with. Beach Bear's other hand pulled Grover out from under them, set to the side with care, and he gently laid his paw over Dook's cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the point of fur under his eye. "I love everythin' about you." He finally admitted. Beach Bear smiled wider, wide as he could, sweet rose lips like a flower bud filled with thorns. "I love everything about you too." His eyes slipped downward, and they drifted shut as he leaned in, head shifted just barely to the side. His lips pressed to his, and Dook let his gaze fall closed, hand jumping up to the back of Beach Bear's head, tangling his clawed fingers in golden tresses. The other slipped around the polar bear's side, rough paw pads sliding up his back, strands catching on his ridgid palms. Beach Bear pulled back, eyes of rock candy, full of sweet love and the same shade of crystallized aquamarine. "I lo-" Dook pushed his head back down, stealing his words, smacking his mouth to the polar bear's own. He deepened the kiss, tongue poking out and slicking across plush skin. The dog nipped at his bottom lip, worrying the flesh with gentle bites intermittently. Beach Bear complied, none too disappointed with the change of plans from the needy dog. Beach licked into his mouth, allowed access with ease, slipping across a sharp canine. He dragged his tongue against Dook's, wrapping them up in each other, pushing as close as he could to the spaniel. A brown paw slid lower, below his shoulder blades, pushing his fingers through thick cloudy furs. Beach Bear pinched his sharp teeth to the edge of Dook's tongue, soothing the marks with a swipe. The polar bear shifted back, smacking his lips to his repeatedly. He dropped his head down, nudging his snout against the bronze fur of the drummer's collarbone. Dook jumped as he licked up his neck, but he whimpered hard when Beach latched onto his jaw, suckling a deep red bite mark on his tan skin. He nipped at his work, and Dook gripped his hair tight, pulling blonde strands firmly. Beach Bear made a surprised little gaspy noise against his neck, resting his forehead on the dog's jaw, huffing his hot breath over his skin. He risked another lick over the lovebite, retracting away from the dog for good. Dook looked absolutely smitten, the fur on the side of his face ruffled under his white hand, entire being flushed an almost unnaturally bright shade of red, eyes glazed over with stars like the glossiest top coat. The dog panted below him, eyes just barely open. "I'm never gonna get out of here if you keep doing that." Beach said. Dook huffed, hands never moving off the bear. "Good." Beach Bear kissed him again, holding there. He forced himself to move his head away from the dog, instead he shuffled down, resting his cheek on Dook's chest. "They're gonna come get us any minute." Beach Bear told him. Dook whined, pushing his fingers through golden hair. "Noooo..." Beach Bear shook his head. "You think I want to? If I had the choice I'd be showing you all I know." Dook stared him down, eyes widening. "That a promise?" Beach Bear copied his look, but he scoffed, smiling. "If you wanna see it that way, yeah. But we gotta get the furbies first." Dook looked up towards the other side of the bed, hickey just slightly visible under his jaw through his dusty brown fur, and with a heavy huff he patted Beach Bear's arm. The bear moved off of him, and Dook flipped over. He dragged himself out from under the bed, raising to his feet. He bent down and dragged the Grover off the carpet, throwing it onto the bed like before. Beach came out from the other side, backing up on his knees. He snagged the rag off the floor as he stood, and he bent back over to grab the tape from under the bed. "You gotta wrap that man, you're gonna bleed all over your apartment." Dook looked down, and although he hadn't begun dripping blood onto his carpet, the tip of his tail was saturated with the iron like liquid again. He clicked his tongue. "Yeah, you right." Beach Bear stepped around to the other side of the bed, and Dook lifted his tail. The rag was wrapped back around, and Beach Bear rolled the tape around the cloth just under the wound, another around the wound carefully, and another ring of tape right near the edge of the washcloth. "That good?" Dook slipped his tail out of the bear's hand, letting it fall behind him again. He swung it experimentally, but the rag held tight. "Niiice." Beach Bear drawled.

Dook nearly jumped a foot in the air when the door squealed open, knocking against the wall. Teddy stood in the doorway, arm against the door, staring the two down with narrowed eyes. "What are you two alley cats doin' in here?" Dook gave him a funny look. "I'm not a cat." Teddy gave him a blank stare, rolling his eyes as he turned his gaze away. Dook scoffed, but Teddy continued. "Come help us with these things! They're eatin' the cardboard!" He huffed exasperated. Beach Bear tsked and set the tape on Dook's bed, turning to the door. "I think I got something that'll work." He said as he stepped out of the room. Dook made the steps to follow, but Teddy caught him with a leg kicked out to rest on the doorframe, blocking him. Teddy crossed his arms, looking expectantly. Dook looked away sheepish, and Teddy gaped at him. The pitbull put his palm on his shoulder, firmly pressed there. "You're tellin' me everythin' when he's gone." Teddy told him. Dook huffed, he didn't even have to say anything to be caught. "Why you gotta be all up in my business man?" He whined. Teddy shrugged. "I'm the middle brother? You went all puppy dog for the dude soon as he stepped in the door the first time. You're not subtle. And you're red as fuck." Teddy pointed out, poking at his cheek. Dook slapped his hand away, a little extra forceful. "You're a gossip. Not like Beach, you're a mean gossip. Paparazzo."

He stepped over his brother's leg, hand on the door frame, turning and poking his nose. "You get what I tell you." He told the dog firmly. Teddy shrugged. "Sure." He said as Dook started walking. The spaniel snatched something up off the table in the hallway, a beat up plastic ducky, and he whirled around, swinging for anywhere he could aim. The ducky sailed and caught the pitbull in the back of the head, the toy falling to the floor with a dull thump. Dook turned into the living room before he could see what Teddy did. Mitzi still had her arms over the box, but she had her hand over a hole, a couple furbies trying to climb onto her back. Beach Bear watched with an incomprehensible look on his face, definetly confused, and entertained, but he looked like he was thinking. "Why?" He said. Mitzi groaned. "I don't know! We didn't have anything else!" Dook looked around the living room, hands on his hips.

He stared down at the floor for a minute, tapping his fingers on his lounge shorts. He looked to the kitchen. Beach Bear seemed to do the same, crossing his arms. "Where are they getting in?" Dook shrugged. "No clue." Beach Bear tsked. "Well, if we can find out where they're getting in, we can block that and once you throw food outside they'll probably go and not be able to come back." Teddy came out of the hall, arm raised. He swung and caught Dook in the shoulder with the duck, bouncing off him onto the couch. Dook quickly swiped it off the cushions and threw it right back. Unfortunately, it just knocked against the wall, the hard plastic clacking on the plaster. "Ha!" Teddy pointed. Dook did a weird bark growl combination, something he'd heard Lula do before.

The pitbull growled right back, surprisingly to Dook Teddy lowered onto his hands. Dook seemed to realize something, and followed his lead like a ritual, padding over to the side of his brother on all fours. His bandaged tail waggled back and forth wildly in the air as he playfully snarled at Teddy. The pitbull jumped at him, knocking him onto his back. Teddy mimed like he was trying to bite him, mouth open, swishing his head around trying to find a spot. He placed his teeth around Dook's arm, gently pulling at him. Dook pushed his head off him, trying to wiggle out from under the dog. He snapped at any available limb, making Teddy flinch back a little. Dook twisted the two of them around, and once he was on top he got up. "Teddy. Furbies. Later." Teddy groaned, sitting up. "Fine." He whined. He got up off the carpet, his impromptu play fight initiation rejected. He crossed his arms. "Do we have a plan?" Teddy asked. Beach Bear shrugged, eyebrow raised at their antics. "Kinda. Do you know where they're coming from?" Teddy wavered his hand. "There's a hole in the bathroom I covered up, but they still got in afta' that. Prolly one in the kitchen." Beach Bear nodded. "Okay, well we should check if the one in the bathroom is still covered, and try to find the hole in the kitchen. Maybe if we throw food outside and watch in the kitchen they'll come back in through the hole." He decided.

Dook was already on route into the kitchen. Teddy made his way to the bathroom, pushing open the door. Dook glanced up at the clock, 7:45, and he swung open their fridge, pulling open a drawer. He grabbed a thing of lunch meat out of the drawer, pushing it shut again along with the door. He strode back into the living room, holding the container. Beach Bear pointed. "Alright good." The surfer turned on his heel, making his way to the bathroom as well. He peeked in, and Teddy was on his knees peering at the corner of the wall where the towels were piled before, his long tail pin straight in the air. He pushed the cloths into the Furby sized hole, plugging it up hopefully. He turned back, looking to Beach Bear. "S still covered like before." He said, and Beach Bear nodded. "Cool." The bear came back into the living room. He tapped the side of the container, and Dook took the lid off the top of it.

Beach Bear hurried over and opened the front door. It was maybe 20 seconds before they heard collective sniffing under the box, and for a bunch of tiny little feets in the kitchen to start scrambling towards the source of the smell. Dook hurriedly grabbed a stack of the sliced meat and threw it out the door onto the wooden landing outside. He slapped the lid on, and Mitzi let the furbys in the box free, all of them scrambling in a mass towards the door. The furbies in the kitchen rushed to do the same, a whole bunch of em. There were 22 in the box, but there was another 20 from the kitchen! Dook could see five different big ones wrangling the babies up from the back of the group. He scrambled away from the door, quickly putting himself onto the arm of the couch, safe from the wave. He watched the furbies go by, horrified, clinging tight to the couch arm, digging his nails into the fabric to keep steady. Teddy came out from the bathroom alcove, watching the spectacle wide eyed. The clown colored little baby stopped at the door, turning to Dook. It hissed and bat it's foot at him one more time, scurrying out the door. The five adult furbies in the back led the train out of the house, and Beach Bear slapped the door shut against the frame.

He frowned deep. "How. Where'd they even come from???" Dook simpered, staring at the door. "I dunno man." He whimpered. Teddy stepped back into the living room, standing next to Mitzi as she got to her feet. She brushed her skirt down. "That looks like it worked." She giggled. Dook shook his head. "Nah Mitz, they'll be back in befo' you know it." Beach Bear nodded. "Yeah, we need to go see where they're coming from." He hurried across the room into their kitchen, standing in there and looking around. The rest of the group of anthros followed him in there, standing around much the same. Dook broke off from the group, going over to the counter and hopping up onto the granite. He sat with his back against the cabinets. Beach Bear followed him, walking to the dog, leaning against the sink right next to him. His arm brushed against Dook's, and the spaniel shifted a hair closer till they touched. Teddy narrowed his eyes, but he stayed where he was, moving around just a bit to look around the kitchen table. Mitzi walked closer to the other two, stopping in front of the fridge. She tried jumping to see on top of it, but it didn't look like she found anything of interest.

They were all just in there to listen in, they guessed. Listen for any scuffling, maybe some squeaking, some Furbish, English. But it was quiet for now. Dook started patting on his thighs, some random rhythm Beach Bear didn't recognize. The dog stared blankly down at the floor. Teddy meandered closer to the rest of them, leaning against the wall opposite to the fridge. Mitzi put her back to the fridge and slid down it, sitting with her legs twisted to the side. "Y'know the floor's prolly dirty." Teddy pointed out. "I dunno how many things I've seen Dook spill on this tile." Dook didn't even raise his head, he just flipped him off. Teddy huffed. Mitzi swiped her hand across the white tile, rubbing her fingers together. "Meh." She decided. Beach Bear shook his head solemn like. "Doomed to the floor germs. Don't stain your skirt." Mitzi looked back down at the ground, shuffling a little to look where she had sat down. She sat back again, waving a hand. "Do you know how many grass stains I get on my clothes? Too many. I can deal with some dirt." The polar bear raised his own hand. "Are your friends just throwing you?" Mitzi shook her head, long blonde hair brushing against the fridge. "No, Sara's got really bad balance right now. She broke her leg last year."

Teddy clicked his tongue. "Damn, that sucks." Beach Bear looked over to the pitbull. "Took the words outta my mouth. But, yeah no, that really does suck. Y'know how?" Mitzi raised her hands. "Car accident. She's really sweet too, she couldn't wait to get back on the team. But her leg gives out sometimes and we all fall." Mitzi smiled despite the context, crossing her legs. Beach Bear blinked. "Double whammy! That's awful. 'Least she's determined." Dook raised his head, blinking hard. "Huh?" Teddy cocked his head at his brother, snorting. "Bro." Dook furrowed his eyebrows. "What?" Mitzi faced him. "That's why I have grass stains on my skirt all the time." Dook shook his head, leaning back a little. "What???" Beach Bear put his hand on the dog's arm, smiling with his eyebrows together. "You're spacin' mad hard." Dook shook his head again. "I didn't hear you guys talkin'."

Beach Bear chuckled. "I'm right next to you." He said. Dook shrugged. "I dunno." He laughed a little bit. "I was thinkin' a... Coleslaw." Beach Bear cocked his head. "Coleslaw? Are you hungry or somethin'?" Dook's ear bounced, and he swiped his hand over the counter. "Mmh, eh. I dunno, I just feel like, I should make coleslaw sometime. I liked it when I was a kid." Teddy groaned, looking away from his brother. "You ruined it for me. You literally ate it for a week! A week! I can't even eat Mac and cheese two nights in a row and you did it willingly for a week, seven days!" Beach Bear started laughing and Dook turned to him, betrayal on his features. He looked back to his brother. "I. like. coleslaw! Is it a-a-a crime? I couldn't take the consistency of mashed potatoes or spaghetti anymore and that's all we had that week! So I ate coleslaw for a week! And I'd do it again right now."

Teddy mock heaved, turning away. He pointed over his shoulder. "You're sick, that's just gross. That was probably two big mixing bowls worth of coleslaw in a week! I just don't understand how you could stomach that." Mitzi stuck out her tongue. "Coleslaws gross." Teddy whirled to face her. "That's what I'm sayin'!" Dook crossed his arms, huffing. "I'm feelin' real attacked right now." He turned his head away from the two traitors. Beach Bear rubbed his shoulder affectionately. "I like coleslaw, but even I couldn't eat it for a week. You need therapy Dook, it's too late for you. The coleslaw gods have you in their clutches and I want you back! Let him free! He didn't do nothin'!" He wrapped his arms around the dog as he wailed, turning his head up to the ceiling. Dook grabbed his arm, trying to find a way to cover the bear's mouth. "Beach shush! You're gonna make my neighbors beat on the wall." He laughed, smoothing his palm against his mouth.

Beach Bear dragged his tongue up his palm and Dook jerked his hand back, red. He stared shocked at his hand. Beach Bear laughed, licking his lips. "Dude your hands feel sandpaper." Beach stuck his tongue out, running his thumb against it. Dook wiped his hand off, skeptically staring, and set it on his leg. "Yeah, I used to walk on my hands a lot. Still do." The polar bear patted his shoulder. "I am so sorry for you man." Dook shrugged. "Thanks?" Beach Bear scoffed. "Okay, you don't get it, I'll tell you later." Dook snorted, looking up at him. "You're not gonna remember." He told the surfer. Beach Bear leaned back, pulling his arms away. He shook his head. "Nah, I'll remember. I'll make sure. I'll live on after the sun explodes just to ask you." Dook's eyebrows pressed together, flipping his palm over. "Just to ask me a question." Beach Bear nodded. "Of course." Dook raised both hands. "You can ask me now?" The polar bear shrugged. "I gotta foul mouth and I wouldn't be able to word it correctly without getting obscene." Dook blinked, but he nodded as well. "Mmm, got it." Teddy knocked on the wall idly, rubbing his padded fingertips on the bumpy paint.

Mitzi smoothed her hand over the tile, picking up a silver glitter on her thumb. She slapped her palm on the floor, checking if the noise was how she expected. Pretty much. Beach Bear started tapping his claws on the countertop, long nails really useful for playing guitar. And cause he just didn't really care to mess with his nails other than biting them off on the occasion. And then being frustrated all day cause somehow he only picks the days where he needs nails. Constant battle, every time. And he don't own nail clippers soo, it's all the way down, or nothin. Dook's bare legs swayed gently, leaning forward on the counter.

It took them another ten minutes until they started hearing scratching somewhere in the kitchen, vaguely beside Dook's head in the cabinets. The four of them all stood up in alarm, Dook slipping off the counter, the two others swaying off the wall, Mitzi jumping to her feet. "I hear them!" She squeaked. Dook swiftly grabbed the handle to one of the cabinets, pulling it. It went three inches before it clacked noisily and stopped. The dog fumbled under the door, pushing up the plastic tab on the baby lock. It swung open, and Dook pulled everything in the cabinet out, laying it on the counter. He hopped up to check the very top, pushing more things out. Empty.

Mitzi jumped back up to look at the fridge again, nothing of note. Teddy decided to look under the sink, pushing cleaning supplies around. But it didn't seem like he found anything. Beach Bear aided Dook in looking through the cabinets, throwing doors open and pulling things out of the way. The baby locks were no match for his wit. They got all the cabinets open wide, and nearly completely empty. Beach Bear pushed something out of the way, and from out of a newly uncovered hole, an adult sized Furby scrambled, snapping it's teeth on his fingers. Beach Bear yelped and pulled his hand back, pointing at the cabinet. "It's been discovered! From out the depths they crawl! For the furbies have emerged!" He shouted.

Dook scrambled to the other side of the kitchen, placing himself safely behind the kitchen table. The Furby jumped out of the cabinet onto the counter, sprinkles stuck to it's alternatively striped brown fur. It clearly had gotten into the sprinkles before, it's beak a dried rainbow of smeared colors. Mitzi quickly reached over and grabbed it, wrapping her hands around it's white stomach. The Furby wiggled, it's claws coming out and feet kicking. It hissed angrily, trying to fall out of her grasp. Mitzi held tight to the 6 inch tall Furby, holding it at arms length, eyes going wide with panic. "Where do I put it?!" She yelped.

Dook scurried across the floor on his hands, pulling the front door open. Mitzi rushed to the door, setting the Furby down and turning and running back into the house. The Furby tried to run back in but Dook swung the door shut, cringing as he heard the furby's beak clack against the door. Teddy hurried to the bathroom, returning with a hand towel. Beach Bear took it and plugged up the hole with the cloth, shoving it bunched up into the hole. For extra measure he grabbed a can of soup and placed it in front of the rag. "Okay..." He backed up. "Now we wait." Dook came back into the kitchen, taking his place right next to Beach Bear. The polar bear put his hand on his head, idly brushing through his fur. "There's no other holes right?" Beach Bear looked to Teddy.

The dog crossed his arms, tapping his fingers on his chocolate fur. "Maybe? They mostly chilled in the kitchen." Teddy moved over, pulling out a chair at the table. He sat himself down, crossing his ankle over his thigh. "We'll see when they come out anyway. Imma make sleepover spaghetti." Teddy got right back up, moving past the anthros. He bent down and grabbed a pot out of the cabinet, filling it with water and setting it on the stove, clicking on the burner. The flames turned on, brushing against the metal coils. "Nice." Beach agreed. Teddy smiled. "You know it. Spaghetti god here." He pointed his thumbs at himself. Dook piped up. "It's all from the store. It's ina box." He said. Teddy waved his hand. "Yeah, n I'm the god of it. Y'all wanna go in tha livin' room or do we wanna watch the water boil?" He pointed behind himself. Beach Bear laughed. "It's so interesting though." He pointed his hands at the pot. Teddy laughed as well. "The secrets of the realms." Teddy waved his hands through the air. The two of them shared a giggle, pointing at the water. Dook moved away from the polar bear, taking Teddy's initiative to go into the living room. His bare feet padded across the carpet, and he reached down and flicked on the T.V, letting it play on whatever channel or VHS it was left on. The screen flicked to life, right in the middle of the intro to another sesame street episode.

The group made their way into the living room, and Dook sat against the couch on the floor. Beach Bear took up the floor next to him, flopping to his stomach on the beige carpet. He rest his head in Dook's lap, completely ignoring the bro code of boundaries that had been established long before. Those were all gone now that they knew they felt one in the same, the touch starved animals. Dook couldn't care less about no rules, he just shuffled a little bit. Mitzi flopped herself over their small couch, pushing her legs closer to her as Teddy dropped down where her feet would've been. The pitbull laid his head on his hand, elbow propped up on the arm. "Which one is this? I can't take the snow one anymore." He said. Dook shrugged. "There's different snow episodes." Teddy shifted a little. "Snow lady." Dook shook his head. "Nah it's a different one." Teddy squinted at the T.V. "Good." Mitzi pushed her legs across the pitbull's lap, not a care given about the boundaries of basically a stranger.

Teddy just shifted his legs to the side, the two of them laying lengthwise on the cushions. He waved a hand at the T.V. "Why they got a shirtless girl?" He asked, referring to the little girl in the intro, who had her back turned the whole time as two other little boys helped her over the fence so they could play in the long grass of the field together. Dook shrugged. "70's." Mitzi pat her fleshy palm over the couch arm, swishing her tail over her stomach. "I used to when I was a baby. I always got ketchup on my clothes and I'd run around in the backyard with my mom trying to catch me." Mitzi laughed. "'Course I didn't have nothin' there though. I think it's only a stigma when you get older?" Mitzi offered Teddy. He cocked his head. "I guess, I don't really care, but one of my coworkers was going on about nude beaches and somehow it got around to that topic." The pitbull snorted. "I was just tryna work..." Dook looked over his shoulder, eyes to his brother. "Was it Christopher again?" Beach Bear lifted his head a little, seeming much more interested in that than Sesame Street.

Teddy nodded. "Yeah! I dunno how he hasn't gotten himself fired. He's not stupid enough to say it in front of customers though. But, you get all kinds a trash at the gas station." Beach Bear flipped over on his back. "Trash?" Oh he was definetly intrigued. "Ooh yeah. I've seen more people on something than sober in there. Some guy thought he knew me and tried to fight me. The lady with 8 rowdy kids, 'can't be bothered to take care of 'em. She left one of 'em there once and he sat behind the counta' with me until we closed and we had to look her up in the phone book. Vince is cool but he's definetly an addict. He comes in and buys gas but he's always with some different girl. Last girl was a stripper for sure. Had the tallest heels I've ever seen. She was completely covered in glitter, it was all over the store for months, I still find little specks all the time." He dumped, tapping his claws on the ridges of their couch. Beach Bear's smile had just gotten wider as he'd gone on, giggling under his breath bubbly. "That's great. It's like a drugged out wonderland. I'd work there. I got fired anyway." Dook cocked his head, looking down at the bear questionably. "What'd you get fired for?"

Beach Bear smiled guiltily, pointing towards Mitzi where she couldn't see and zipping across his lips. "Blazin' on the clock. My boss was soooo mad." Beach said quietly, snorting. "She walked outside and I got so scared. She gave me this... She's like, reeeally reeeally Christian, she's really against that kinda stuff, and she started yelling about how I was going to hell for eternity and Satan would take my lungs and hang me with em and scared the absolute bejeesus outta me. I was already in the clouds by then man I was terrified! She's literally so small and she made me wanna hi-ide." Beach Bear started getting incoherent near the end, sending himself into a delirious giggle fit at his story. Dook had started doing the same halfway through, struck with the same fit as soon as Beach Bear said "eternity." Teddy was straight up cackling, threw his head back against the couch arm and wailed. Mitzi laughed just a little bit. "That's horrible!" She giggled.

Teddy tried to speak between his bouts of barking laughter, alerting Lula from wherever she was, assuming it was Teddy's room from her lengthy absence. She came trundling down the hall, head tipped back and howling hearty. She came up to the front of the couch, pawing right back onto Beach Bear. The polar bear groaned, still giggling. "Owww, dawg watch the paws." He huffed, and Lula dropped onto his stomach, still howling with her head back, getting real comfy on him. "Luuula..." He whined, with a chuckle. "Why you gotta be that way?" Dook continued to silently laugh, entire body jolting with the extent of it. Teddy wheezed. "I fuckin' kn-knew it!" He pointed at the bear, and at Dook. "You- I'm right ab-" He caught his breath. "I'm right about all-lll of it." He accused. Dook couldn't respond, bent over clutching the bear. Beach Bear giggled into Dook's arms, trying to peek through.

"Probably!" Beach said. Dook's tail smacked at Beach Bear's arm, the rag standing strong against such wild movement. Mitzi put her hand on Dook's back. "Are you okay?" She laughed. The spaniel shook his head, wheezing near silently. He took a deep gasping breath, and he heaved a high pitched delirious giggle. Beach Bear turned his face into the dog's stomach, laughing even harder at the sound. Dook pushed his ears back, resting his hand there. "I just-" he giggled, "I keep imagining this-" Dook cackled, holding his hands up slightly parted in the air. "Tiny armadillo lady-" He snorted. "Backin' you inna corner-" He wheezed at the thought. Beach Bear did much the same. "That's exactly what happened!" The bear howled. "She was a-" He raised up a hand ye high off the ground. "Hamster!" He giggled even harder. Mitzi started to follow suit, and soon enough they had four grown animals howling like madmen at this stupid image of a hamster in a business suit making Beach Bear's tall self cower. "Where did this happen???" Mitzi gasped. "Burger King!" Beach Bear sobbed. The four of them cackled in tendem.

Dook jumped when he heard the banging on the wall, legs raising up a little, ears going along with him. Teddy took one deep breath. "We gotta listen to you fuck, get over it!" Teddy shouted. Dook reached over and slapped his leg. "Shut the hell up! Jesus Christ Teddy!" Mitzi cackled with Beach Bear, laying flopped on the couch as she laughed. Beach Bear covered his face, giggling into his hands. Dook tangled his hands in Beach Bear's hair. "I do! I can't take it! It's always when I'm tryna sleep!" Teddy groaned. Dook shrugged. "You don't gotta be rude!" Teddy rolled his eyes. "I been nice! That's the first time I yelled." He crossed his arms. Dook pointed at him. "Roll your eyes, I'll bite you." Teddy stared him down. Dook narrowed his eyes. Teddy rolled his eyes again. "You won't."

The pitbull shrieked as Dook snapped his teeth onto his ankle, not as hard as he could but enough to hurt decently. He dug his two little pointed canines into the skin of his brother's ankle. Teddy ripped his foot away, hand on the bite. "BRO." Dook shrugged. "Test me." Teddy bopped his head with his foot. Dook snapped at him again, catching the side of his foot. "Ow! Dude the fuck! Why??" He yelped. "Cause that's what you get!" Dook pointed. "And if you do it again, Imma bite you again." Teddy hovered his foot near him, squinting at Dook. The spaniel smiled, or more bared his teeth wide at him. Literally only his front canines and the two on the bottom were sharp, rest of em were flat. Human teeth. Yeah he didn't know how that worked either. Beach Bear reached up and put his hand on Dook's head, pushing it down a little. "Why you bitin'?" He played. Dook raised an eyebrow at him. The polar bear repeated his action. "Why you bitin'?" Dook cocked his head at him, quiet. Beach Bear rest his palm on the dog's head, sliding down to pet his ear. "Bitin's for bitches." Beach Bear chuckled.

Dook shrugged. "You want me to punch him instead?" He offered. Teddy let out an offended little gasp. Beach Bear frowned at the spaniel. "Noooo, you're supposed to settled your differences with..." He tapped his cheek, thinking. "Card games." Dook blinked at him, doing his best work to not look Beach Bear down like he was a toddler, though adorable, not the brightest. "We don't got cards. Why cards?" Beach Bear shrugged. "My dad made me and my mom play cards instead of fighting." He rubbed his hand against Dook's ear, restraining such intrusive thoughts to pull him down by em. "Cause my mom wouldn't ever get mad, but when she did she'd go on for hours, days. And she shut up when she played poker." Dook snorted. "That's mean." Beach Bear waved his free hand. "She was mean to me, she can get some trash talk now and again. I still love her." The dog tsked, tilting his head. He didn't really know the bear's home life. "Yeah." He rubbed his thumb over the point of fur on Beach Bear's forehead.

Teddy scoffed, watching the two. "Yeah, imma have to get you to stay here," He waved to Beach Bear. "Get 'im to stop bitin' me." The pitbull said. Beach Bear shrugged. "Alright." Dook glared back at his brother. Teddy returned that look. "Yeah! That's what's up." Dook snapped his jaws near Teddy's ankle again, and the limb jolted back. "That's dirty!" Teddy pointed. Dook raised his hands. "I'm dirty." Nonchalant, he tilted his head. Teddy groaned. "I fuckin' know! Ya hit 15 and it was all downhill." Dook waved his hand, waving him off. "No words, Sesame Street." Dook turned his vision to his brother again for a second. "You gotta foul mouth for a teenager in the room." Mitzi lifted her head off the couch arm. "I've heard worse."

Dook sighed, looking to her. "Take his side, traitor." Mitzi gasped. "I did no such thing! I've heard worse walking outside." Beach Bear leaned past Dook's arm to see the mouse. "Not to you, right? I'll box a dude." Mitzi shook her head. "No. And I can take care of myself." She crossed her arms. Beach Bear shrugged. "I'm sure. But I'll give em a couple words if they're messin' with you." He circled his fist. Dook leaned back. "Pedos get this 1 2 pop pop." Dook followed in his actions. Mitzi giggled. "Nobody's being like that, it's okay!" Dook nodded firm. "Good. You call me up, I'll drive that far for a fight." Beach Bear patted his arm. "You need a leash."

Dook flushed, and Beach Bear turned away, laughing. "You ARE dirty! Get you on a leash so you can't fight everyone you see!" The bear giggled. Dook sputtered, looking off. "I- I, you- I can handle myself!" Dook yelped. Beach Bear shook his head. "Naw! Cause I'm gonna find you chokin' some guy out next time! You got a violent streak!' The guitarist chuckled. Dook frowned. "For good reason! I'm not onry for no reason, Rolfe got plenty warning and I'll mess up anyone creepin' on Mitzi." Beach Bear tilted his head side to side. "Mmm, well... Yeah, no that's fair. Go be scary pitbull- royal spaniel on the creeps." He corrected. Dook shrugged. "Half both anyway." Beach Bear quirked a brow. "You don't look like it." The dog dropped his hands back around Beach Bear's head, brushing the points on the sides of his face. "I don't think they can mix like that." The surfer lifted his hand to lay over Dook's.

"Yeah?" He ran a fingertip over Dook's curved dog-like nails. "It's prolly one or the other." The dog offered. Beach Bear snorted. "You'd look weird without your ears. Like if you had pitbull ears." He pointed to Teddy, his perked, but also kinda flopped over ears. Teddy pushed the floppy part up, his ear pointed. Beach Bear nodded, looking back and forth. "Yeah, that'd look so weird." Dook cocked his head, eyebrows together. He raised his ears up off his head, holding them there. Beach Bear chuckled, bopping the end of it. It just went back into place, ears straight across like a board. He pushed it again and Dook let his ear fall. Beach Bear mock gasped. "I broke it!" His voice went higher. Dook raised his ear again. Beach Bear grinned. "Wait wait." He said. Dook kept his head bowed. Beach Bear reached over and pushed his ears over his head, held up by the ends. "Bunny."

Dook scoffed and pulled his ears back from him, smiling. From across the couch Teddy poked at Dook's arm with a clawed toe. Dook looked over at him. Teddy shifted his eyes between him and the bear with his head in the dog's lap. The pitbull raised his eyebrow. Dook grinned wide, his stupidly lovesick expression all to clear to his older brother. Teddy smirked at him, mouthing his words. 'I knew it.' Dook shifted his head up a little bit, squinting. 'Whatchu gon do about it?' He motioned right back. Beach Bear waved his hand around, getting the spaniel's attention again. He pointed at T.V. "What's that?" On the screen was Big Bird, tip toeing down the street. Along side him was a big brown elephant looking thing, trundling along with him on it's four legs. "Snuffleupagus." Beach Bear squinted at the screen. "That's ridiculous. I love it."

Teddy's eyebrows shifted together. "You punched Rolfe?" Dook nodded. "Yeah, he was laughin' at me." Beach Bear laughed once again, somehow struck with the funnies laying on the carpet. "You probably gave him a black eye." Dook's eyes went wide. "What? I wasn't tryin' to!" Beach Bear stared up at him, a lil confused looking. "Wasn't trying to? That's some news to me, he's got a good like," He brushed a finger under his own eye. "bruise, right here. Dawg you got him good." Dook leaned back, scratching at his neck, looking more and more regretful as the seconds passed.

Beach Bear's face fell as well. "I'm not saying he didn't deserve it! I'm just saying like, it's probably gonna be a black eye soon. Talk shit get hit." Dook tilted his head a little. "He didn't say nothin' after I hit 'im," Dook looked away suddenly. "I hope he didn't tell the other guys..." Beach Bear patted his arm. "They would've called you already to fact check." Dook sighed. "I hope so." Teddy seemed to take those words as answer enough. "He's just been waitin' for someone to do it." The pitbull stood up, heading towards the kitchen.

Beach Bear flipped over again, forehead to Dook's stomach, wrapping his arms around the dog's torso. Dook pet down the bear's head, scritching his fingers on the back of his neck like he'd pet Lula. The polar bear huffed, a pulsing, contented hum rumbling past his throat. Dook slipped lower on the floor, Beach Bear's head lifted as he moved. Given more freedom, Dook shifted around on the carpet until him and Beach Bear were both lengthwise in front of the couch, Dook on his back, arms around Beach Bear's neck, the polar bear's head on his chest, body half slung over him, his own arms wrapped around Dook's torso. The spaniel closed his eyes, raising one arm up to cushion his head on the carpet and the other continuing to brush his band mate's neck.

Mitzi swung her hand down off the couch, sliding her fingers over Dook's ear. He blinked one eye open, and she just smiled. "It's soft." She offered. Dook hummed. "I try. I jus' use dish soap." His eyes slipped shut again. Mitzi was quiet for just a second. "Why dish soap?" She asked. Dook flipped his hand around side to side and put it back where it was on Beach. "S cheap. 'n it works, an' it doesn't smell like perfume." Beach Bear shifted his head up on his chest. "No, but you smell like lemons."

Dook raised a shoulder. "I'm cool with that." Beach settled back again. "I like it." He agreed. Mitzi ran her fingers over the texture of their couch. "So it works like fur shampoo?" She questioned. Dook nodded. "Basically. Strips grease of pots, it's good enough for me. 'M always covered in dirt when I get home. Junkyard's sweaty, dirty, 'n gross." He slid his hand off Beach Bear's neck to his upper back, pulling his fingers through the white strands. He brought his hand up and was struck with the amount of white furs intertwined with his own. "Jeez." Dook said. Beach Bear whined. "I knowwww... I hate it. I got a couple more weeks of it."

The more animal side of their characteristics could be pretty damn inconvenient sometimes. Example one, how tall he is, but example two is the shedding. Normally Beach Bear didn't shed, but because he's a polar bear, he starts dropping hairs like it's going out of style once it hits summer. It's to keep him cool, and it does help a little, but he'd find little white hairs everywhere for the rest of the year. At least when you're sleeping outside you don't gotta worry. Dook scoffed. "Man, I gotta deal with this every day. Shedding's awful." Beach Bear nodded. "What do you do at the junkyard?" He asked. Dook shrugged. "Take apart cars all day. But they been sittin' out there for ever, they're nasty." Beach Bear hummed. "That's probably also why you have sandpaper hands."

Dook raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to stop?" He paused in his brushing motion. "Nah man, it don't feel weird, just different." Dook continued once more. After a second he lifted his hand up towards Mitzi. "I gotta feelin' you're gettin' ready to ask me." Mitzi giggled. "Yeah." She ran her thumb over the large paw pad on the center of his palm. It was almost a little smooth as she brushed down it, but brushing back up it, it almost felt like there were hooks catching at her fingertip. She pushed his finger straight, brushing her fingertip up the one that went up the length of his finger. Dook kinda twitched his hand back a tad, but he kept it up. She flipped over his hand, thumbing at the edge of his curved black nails. "That's so..."

Well she didn't really want to say that. "Not weird, but... Odd? Feeling wise." Dook shrugged, letting her continue to inspect with her curious little mind. That's what he did when he was little. He always wanted to see the differences between him and his family. Skin faces, furred faces. Human hands, paw pads. Hair, no hair. Hell, some of his family even walked on their toes. Sometimes animal and human doesn't balance out the same. Mitzi herself had human palms, and he suspected Beach Bear had the same, but he couldn't tell from afar with his dark palms. And, of course, they had hair. Dook himself was unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, passed up in that department. Teddy always said he'd probably end up with ridiculous big tawny curls that he'd wind up hating anyway.

Teddy drifted back into the room, throwing himself to the cushions. Mitzi narrowly avoided her ankles being crush, poking the pitbulls thigh with a socked foot in retaliation. Teddy poked her right back, catching her ankle. He reclaimed his spot from before. "Noodles is cookin'." He said all goofy. He waved a hand at the two on the floor. "Ya look squished." Dook shrugged. "I am way past comfy." Mitzi dropped his hand and Dook continued to brush his paw down his... Whatever him and Beach Bear were now... spine. The bear chuffed content, nuzzling his face on Dook's chest. "Ya sound like a stalling car." Teddy piped up. Beach Bear raised his head. "Vroom vroom." He said.

Chapter Text

Eventually, the sun started dipping below the horizon, it's warm, multicolor rays draping over their complex with a brazen heat. Wasn't long before they got their dinner ready, and although it was all boxed, Teddy could work some real magic with the random assortment of spices he'd end up adding in the midst. Dook had to seriously dig through their fridge trying to find mushrooms, and found them wedged behind the drawer. Neither of the brothers knew how that got there.

Dook tapped his nails against the glass plate he was washing, the hot water dampening the fur on the backs of his hands, soap intermingling between the bronze strands. Beach Bear stood next to him leaning against the counter. "I can help you if you want." Beach Bear offered. Dook clicked his tongue, setting the rinsed plate on a towel laid out on the other side of the counter top to the dog's left. "Not much to help with. I jus' let 'em air dry." He waved at the towel. The polar bear tapped his cheek. Dook continued with the soaping of dishes. Something dropped into the sink, water splashing up high and soaking Dook. He stepped back blind with a yelp, unsure if he was gonna get soap in his eyes. "Aww dude."

Dook shook out his head, ears slapping wet on his face. He brushed the rest of the residue off. "That wasn't me." He said. Beach Bear looked to the basin, but the water was hidden through the soap bubbles. "Awwww, they probably got back in." Beach Bear groaned. Dook backed up. Beach used the back of his hand to try to brush the bubbles off the rippling surface of the water, flicking the excess to the other side of the sink. The water was wavering madly, and Beach Bear stuck his hand in through the bubbles. Dook stepped behind the polar bear, peeking past his waist. The surfer waved his hand around in the water, brushing past various silverware and maybe a knife he got a tad too close to without injury. He swished his hand, and once he caught what he was looking for, he wrenched it out. By the scruff he held another Furby, red and yellow with it's hue. On it's forehead lopsided were a pair of sunglasses, little sandals on it's feet and it was in a drenched Hawaiian shirt.

He set the adult Furby on the dish towel. The poor little thing shivered terrified, stock still on the rag. Beach Bear folded the edge of the towel around the body of the Furby, trying to press the water from it's vibrant fur. The Furby huddled to his hands close, pushing it's beak to the webbing between his thumb and pointer finger. "He's all decked out! This is a rockin' little man." Beach Bear said. Dook stayed behind him, watching the Furby hesitantly. He raised his vision to the ceiling. There was no hole in the roof, thank god. It had probably just jumped off the top of the cabinets. Beach Bear patted the furby's drenched fur, rubbing at its back with his left hand. "Where did you come from?" He asked the Furby. "Up!" It yelled. Beach Bear flinched back. "What the fuck." He looked to Dook. "What?" He said again, gravely. Dook nodded, struck with a horrible weight in his heart at it's voice. "They talk." Beach Bear nodded slow. "I don't know whether to be freaked out, or in awe. I think both." He pet the Furby. The frightened rodent, avian, cat like creature cuddled close to his hand, quickly starting to shiver from the cooling water as well. Beach Bear picked up the Furby, snagging another towel where he'd seen Dook open a drawer before. He got the shirt off the Furby and wrapped it in the towel, holding it close. "I was scared when I wiped out the first time too." Dook stared skeptically at the Furby, but it just pressed it's face into the soft furs of the bear's chest. He softened just a little, but he still kept his distance. "We gotta find that hole." Dook said. He returned to washing the dishes, he could deal with his own wet clothes later. Beach Bear turned with the Furby, back to Dook, pushing open the cabinet from before. The rag was still in place, soup can untouched. Beach Bear opened up the rest of the cabinets, pushing past the replaced object inside. Out of all the cabinets, he didn't find one hole in the back of any. Beach Bear rubbed the towel over the Furby's head, coaxing out wet droplets from flame and lemon colored furs. "There's no new holes in the cupboards." He told Dook. The dog clicked his tongue, rinsing another plate. "I dunno then man, they get into everythin'." He set the glass to the side. "Guess he didn't want lunch meat." Beach Bear offered. "Just wanted to catch some waves huh?" He directed towards the Furby. The adult just pressed closer to him. "Kah mee-mee dah boh-bay wah! Who-bye kah wah!" It yelled frightfully. Beach Bear's eyebrows drew together, holding it close. "Awww..." He trailed off. "He looks so sad." Dook turned to look over at the two of them. The adult was set in Beach Bear's arms like a baby, sitting pressed in the crook of his arm, hiding it's face in the thick furs. It shivered like mad, both from fear and the cold. As much as he hated the things, Dook couldn't help but feel just a little bad. "We have a blow dryer." Dook offered. "It's under the sink." He pointed towards the bathroom, on the opposite side of the wall he pointed. Beach Bear considered that, holding the quivering Furby up on his hands. The Furby shook even more at the height from the ground, trying to shrink towards his palms. Beach Bear held the adult to his chest, secured in his arms again. "Yeah, he needs it. He seems cool, he hasn't tried to bite me." Beach Bear told the dog. Dook squinted down at the water in the sink. "Probably cause it's scared outta it's mind." He said. Beach Bear cocked his head. "If it was scared of us it woulda bit me by now. Or tried to get down." Dook raised an eyebrow at him. "That's a five foot drop, prolly more." Beach Bear sighed. "Look, he's cuddly." He pointed where the adult was pressed back to his arm. Dook scoffed, eyes back to the water. Beach Bear squinted at him. A grin slowly spread across his face. "Are you seriously jealous of a Furby?" Dook gaped at him. "You think I'm jealous of the Furby?" Beach Bear cocked his head. "Are you?" Dook glared at him. "No!" His eyes flicked down to the Furby for a second. "No." And all the way back up at Beach Bear. "...maybe?"

The polar bear laughed loud, bending down to Dook's height. "You know I'm not gonna suddenly love a Furby more than you? I didn't get to tell you before. You're still my little puppy baby." Beach Bear cooed, holding the side of Dook's face. The dog went completely gooey, smiling up at him like he'd hung up the stars. Beach Bear stood up and stepped past him, brushing his hand on his head. Once he was gone Dook dropped his face into his wet hands, heart a thumping outta his chest, red across his entire being. This day couldn't get any better. It feels like they're going a little, a lot fast, but fuck! Dook couldn't care any less about that, he's loved the polar bear since he first joined the band. Just the adrenaline in his heart made him wanna jump around like a lovesick fool. He waved his hands up and down rapidly, tail wagging around so hard he could feel the wind around his legs.

Beach Bear made his way into the Larue's tiny bathroom, setting the Furby on the sink. It stepped away from the edge, tumbling into the bowl of the sink, safely slipping around in the porcelain basin. Beach Bear hunched to his knees, pulling open the cabinets. He snagged the hair dryer, unraveling the cord around it. He stood back up, kicking the doors shut. He swiveled his head around the room. Once he spotted an outlet he plugged the dryer in, testing the power with a sliding of a switch. The apparatus whirred to life, startling the Furby in the basin. It tried to scramble out of the sink, but it's little sandaled feet kept sliding on the white slope. Beach Bear plucked the adult Furby up out of the sink, setting in his lap as he sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. He held the Furby close to his stomach, where it had scrambled as it was placed down. He waved the dryer near the Furby, back and forth a couple of times, trying to show it that there was air coming out of it. The Furby cringed back the first couple times, hissing at the first gust of air and batting it's clawed toes at the heated wind. Beach Bear scritched it's little head, soothing it a little. He pointed the dryer down at his own leg, the Furby watching as the strands fluttered around in the air. He blew a good cloud of fur off his leg, the loose strands flying free into the room. On a whim he pointed it to his chest, but he was met with a face full of transparent reflective furs, shaking his head around wildly. Beach Bear pointed it down at the Furby finally, since it kind of seemed okay with it? The Furby was hit with the air. It stayed where it was for a minute, but soon enough it stepped forward, slowly spinning itself around in the hot wind. The adult slipped off it's tiny sandals, spreading apart it's little toes to dry, it's kitten sharp claws visible between the toes. Mitzi poked her head into the open doorway, investigating the noise. She laid eyes on the Furby, and she quickly stepped into the room, crouching down by the two of them. "He's got flip flops!" She pointed out. Beach Bear laughed. "Yeah, he dove into the sink looking like this. He had a shirt too." The tropical Furby stopped when it noticed her, staring her down. She lifted her hand up, and the Furby took a good sniffing before it allowed her to pet it's yellow hair. She retracted her hand soon, letting the Furby continue. "That's cute. Do you know this address?" She asked Beach Bear. The polar bear quirked an eyebrow. "Like Dook's address? Not all of it. You should probably ask him." Mitzi shrugged, waving a hand. "I'll do it later." She watched the Furby as it spun in Beach Bear's lap, kneading it's feet on his leg when it would still. "I thought we got them all out?" She asked. Beach Bear tsked. "Guess not. We don't know where he came from. Keep an eye out for more." He told her. Mitzi nodded. "Alright."

Dook finished up with the dishes, setting the last piece of silverware on the drying towel. He unplugged the sink and he grabbed another rag to wipe his hands off, rubbing at the backs of his hands to rid his fur of the wetness. He dropped the towel and waved his barely damp hands, his paw pads dry. He rubbed at his eyes, looking up at the clock. 9:45. He frowned down at his still wet clothes, rather uncomfortable now that the water was cold. He shucked off the tank top while he was in the kitchen, making swift work of going down the hall and turning into his room. He threw the tank top at the laundry basket in the corner. He got himself all comfied up in some dry clothes, got his fuzzy pajama pants on, a random t-shirt he found. He was about to head out of his room, but thinking ahead, he stops. He turns back around, pulling another pair of pajama pants out of the drawer, ones with a drawstring. He sets them on the dresser, moving over to his bed. First of all, he grabs Grover. 23 or not he's never gonna part with this thing. He's had it since he was a kid and by the forces of nature, it's the one thing he's yet to lose, his forgetful brain had lost many a thing before, but never Grover. Grover wasn't exactly his favorite from the show, but he loved that stuffed animal to death. If you had to ask him, he liked The Count more. Cause he likes doing the impression. Ah ah ah.

Dook snagged a throw blanket off the end of his bed, throwing it over his shoulder. He took the Grover and pants off his dresser as he came out of his room into the living room. The items in hand were thrown to the floor, uncaring since he knew the cleanliness of his own carpeting. He kept the pajama pants, looking around the room. "Mitzi?" He called.

The mouse poked her head out of the bathroom. "Huh?" Dook held up the pajama pants. "You can wear 'em if you want. Prolly too big but they got a string." Mitzi started moving closer, and he threw the pants to her. She caught them on her shoulder. "You can change in my room, on the right." He pointed. Mitzi nodded. "Thank you!" She said. Dook smiled. "Yeah, you too." The mouse laughed, hurrying off the change out of her skirt and such. Dook crossed the living room, picking up her long discarded sweaters. He held them for a moment, debating. Cause they didn't have a coat rack or nothing. He strode into the kitchen, swing the sweaters over one of the kitchen chairs. They hadn't even used them when all of them ate dinner, mostly cause they only had two chairs. They just sat on the floor in the living room, still watching cartoons. For Teddy's sake they had finally turned off Sesame Street, and turned on some Hanna Barbera show. They didn't pay enough attention to know for sure, it probably even switched cartoons halfway through.

Mitzi returned from his room, pajama pants on. She had the string tied up around her waist, a nice long bow in the front. "These ARE big." She giggled. Dook snorted. "You see who owns em. Too thick for smalls." He held out a leg. Mitzi smiled. "It's like," She waved her own leg out. "Flowy." Dook smiled as well. "Yeah, got all that space in there, wit ya skinny legs." Mitzi put her hands on her hips. "I'm trying! It's hard toning your legs." She defended. Dook put a hand up. "I thought skinny was the style? Y'know, long ol' legs is what the girl's in my school went for." Mitzi shook her head. "Nope! It's all definition now. Bigger the better." Dook laughed, patting her shoulder. "Don't go repeating that about other things." Mitzi cocked her head. "Why not? That's what the girls say." Dook squinted looking off. He tapped at his face. "Mmm...  Nevermind. You don't gotta change yourself for other people." Dook added. Mitzi shook her head. "No way! I do what I want!" Dook laughed again. "That's good! I wish I knew you when I was in high school." He joked. Mitzi gasped. "What did you look like in highschool?"

Dook groaned. "Horrible. I might have a picture somewhere." Dook looked around the room, then split off from her. He went down the hallway, looking at those pictures. He grabbed one off the wall, walking back to her. He held it out for her, and she took it. He looked over her shoulder at the picture, though he'd seen it millions of times before. "First day of sophomore year." The Dook in the picture is noticably younger, thumbs hooked on the pockets of his jeans. He's got just a plain white shirt on, the picture ends before the shoes. He's got long furs hanging off his wrists and his tail, but Mitzi doesn't seem to notice. Teddy's behind him coming down the stairs Dook is standing in front of. Long, ancient wooden stairs, chipped and scratched to hell from the playfulness of kids. "Wow." Mitzi said, looking back and forth between him and the picture. He smiled like he was in the photo. "You just got older." She said. "And bigger." She added, looking him up and down  with a smirk. Dook scoffed. "Yo momma ain't teach you no manners." He said, though he was smiling. The teenaged mouse beamed at him. "I know manners! I didn't call you fat." Dook scoffed again, eyebrows together. "You're some kind of special. And I don' think it's good." Mitzi shrugged. "Special's still special." Dook sighed. "You don't know when to quit." He smiled fondly, putting his hand on her head and ruffling her blonde hair. She gasped, pulling back. "How dare you!" She giggled. "How dare I?" Dook said. "Ya called me fat!" Mitzi crossed her arms. "I called you big." Dook squinted, crossing his arms as well. "You know what you said."

From out the bathroom Beach Bear came, the dried Furby sitting on his shoulder like a parrot, sandals back on. He stopped as he caught sight of the two smaller animals. Mitzi glanced at him, but she went back to her stare down. Dook didn't move an inch. Suddenly he uncrossed his arms, barking down at Mitzi's feet, more or less so he didn't scare the hell out of her, just a spook. Mitzi jumped back with a squeak,

laughing once she calmed. Dook joined her in that, and Beach Bear stepped closer, crouching down and  holding the Furby between the two. Dook leapt back with a shriek, falling to the carpet. Beach Bear raised his eyebrows. "Dook." The dog glared at him. Beach Bear twisted the Furby around. It's little puff of hair was segmented into liberty spikes, it's spiky little self seeming to be just as happy as Beach Bear was. Mitzi cooed at the Furby, petting it's bare back. Dook pointed at Beach Bear. "I told you I don't like those things!" Beach Bear frowned. "But he's got spikes!" The Furby tapped it's feet on Beach Bear's hand, rocking back and forth in a circle. Beach Bear took note of this. "He dances too!" Dook stared up at him from the floor like he was crazy. "Is Michael Myers any funnier dancing???" The Furby seemed to deflate, and Beach Bear furrowed his brow, flinching back. "He's not Michael Myers! Dude it's a Furby!" Beach Bear laughed. "He's literally just chillin' and you act like it's gonna kill you! It's okay man!" Dook got up off the floor. "I don't fuckin' like em! Don't shove it in my face!" Beach Bear jumped back, cocking his head. "I'm sorry. That was shitty. I'm sorry. I won't do that again." He said honestly. "But this little homie's so cute! I just wanna show you him little spikes, I'm sorry man." He kinda half cooed, more serious at the end. Dook softened. "It's cool. I'm sorry too. I like the spikes, I just don't want it that close to me. It's... very cute with it's spikes." Dook said, grimacing. The Furby brightened as well as the polar bear, tapping it's little feets rapidly. Dook half smiled. Admittedly the dancing was kinda cute, but he was more swayed by the guitarist's happiness. Beach Bear stood up straight, placing the Furby back on his shoulder. "Parrot." He threw up a peace sign. Dook snorted.

"I have arrived!" Teddy announced. "And I bring plently." He walked over to the group, dumping a pile of blankets and randomly sized pillows on the floor. Beach Bear took one look at the pile and immediately he got excited. "Blanket fort." He pointed at the pile. Teddy looked over at him like he'd said the smartest thing in the world. "I didn't even think a that." He said. "You gonna fit?" Teddy waved a hand. "We'll make you fit." He answered his own question. Beach Bear grinned something fierce, all his sharp teeth on display. "I'm down." Mitzi hurried to the kitchen in search of the supports. "We just gon' build it around you." The polar bear moved over to the couch, sitting on the floor in front of it. "Like this?" Teddy gave him a thumbs up. "Perfect." The pitbull snatched a blanket off the floor, throwing it over the back of the couch. He tucked it between the couch and the wall, shoving the couch back again so it was secure. It hung a little bit off the couch, a good chunk of it. Mitzi came back with chairs, setting them by the couch with the seat facing away from Beach Bear. The other one went on the opposite side, and they draped the ends over the kitchen chairs. Dook stepped away from the action to go find more supports. He knew he didn't have anything useful in his room, so he pushed open the door to Teddy's.

Teddy had his bed on the opposite wall from Dook's, the bed pushed so the top was against the wall to the right hand side. Nightstand by the bed, a wardrobe on the wall in front of Dook. He walked into the room, grabbing a folding chair tucked by the wardrobe and a desk. The desk had many things like Dook's dresser had, though it was different the contents. Change, some doodles on paper, a lighter, bag of something Dook couldn't see through the hazy plastic, an assortment of random little toys in varying states of cleanliness. He knew the story behind those. Teddy kept finding little kids toys outside the gas station where he worked, from that lady with the kids was their best guess. His brother's been saying he was gonna give them back but Teddy could be just a forgetful as Dook sometimes, and he'd always leave em on the desk.

Dook took himself and the chair out of the room, and straight into his, cause he had a chair in there and he just forgot until this very second. He went in there and grabbed the other folding chair, and he brought them to the living room. They had the blanket over Beach Bear's head, holding up the blanket trying to fit a broom under there. He clacked the two chairs together, and they raised their heads. Beach Bear jumped under the blanket. "Whuzzat?" Teddy took a chair, placing it under the blanket corner. "Ah, chair." Teddy fiddled with it for a minute till the blanket hung over it right. Mitzi did the same, throwing the blanket edge over the chair. Once situated Mitzi dove under the blanket fort with the giant bear, huddling close. "It's amazing." She said. "Spectacular." Beach Bear added. Dook crossed in front of them to the other side of the fort, squatting down to see under the blanket roof. Beach Bear pointed a hand at him. "What are those pants?" Dook's pajama pants had a bunch of astronaut ducks over the dark blue fuzz, little galaxy swirls thrown around like the rubber ducks were. "Don't you diss on my ducky pants." Beach Bear shook his head. "No I love them. I want shorts like that. It's adorable dawg, you're adorable in your ducky pants." Dook smiled. "That's what I like to hear." He crawled into the fort with the two of them, reaching behind the bear's head and grabbing the two pillows they had on the couch. He threw them down on either side of the fort, and once Beach Bear slid down a little, Dook laid between his legs, laying his head on his stomach. Teddy started throwing more pillows into the fort, basically all aimed at Dook. The pillows piled up on his legs, and Teddy crawled in a short distance, situating the pillows on the sides. Beach Bear fixed the ones behind all of them, and the four of them got settled down on the floor, T.V still glowing, though it was pretty low on volume.

From the side of the fort, the tropical furby crept into view, donning it's Hawaiian shirt, now dry. The adult furby caught Beach Bear's eye. He looked between Dook, and the furby. He curled a finger at the furby, and it tapped it's feet against the carpet, hurrying over to the anthros. The furby jumped up onto his arm once it was outstretched, scurrying up the limb onto his shoulder. The fresh looking little guy pushed it's face into his neck, striking the polar bear with double the cuddles than he had just a second before. He pet the adult furby's ear, brushing the back of it gently. Beach Bear slid down some more, head against the pillows on the floor behind him. The furby shifted onto his collarbone, flopping back on the pillow as well. Mitzi reached up and pet it's side a little, moving down and resting her cheek on the polar bear's arm. Teddy didn't really cling like the three of them did, but he flopped his tail over Dook and Beach's legs. "What time is it?" Teddy mumbled. Dook's ear twitched. "Prolly ten."

Mitzi raised her hand, poking Dook's neck. He shifted his head to look at her. "Your middle name is McCartney?" She asked, grin stretched across her face in a horrible mockery. Dook buried his face in Beach Bear's fur, groaning loud. "Your middle name is McCartney?!" Beach Bear said louder, clearly amused. Dook pushed himself to his elbows, glaring at the turned figure of his brother. "What did you tell her?" Teddy snickered and covered his face, wagging. "Teddy!"

Beach Bear giggled. "Like the Beatles?" Dook dropped his head again. "Noooo..." He grumbled. "I was born in '61." Beach Bear rubbed the dog's head. "What then?" Beach asked. Dook shrugged. "Someone my dad was in the army with."

Beach Bear shook his head. "Dude I keep learning all these things, next thing you're gonna tell me is you're colorblind." Dook was quiet.

Beach Bear rubbed at his shoulder. "Dude." He emphasized. Dook smiled. "You are not colorblind." Beach said. Dook shrugged. "You're not, no, don't play me like that." With even more silence Beach Bear patted at him. "No." He grabbed the dog's face, pulling him close, staring deep in his eyes like that'd tell him. "Maybe?"

Dook grabbed his wrist, pressing their noses together. "I'm not." Beach Bear huffed at that. Teddy chimed from his corner facing the wall. "He's a shit liar." The pitbull waved a hand. Dook chose to ignore his older brother.

Mitzi patted at Dook's back, where he had sat up to face Beach Bear. "What're you two getting so couple-y for?" She prompted. Dook pulled back from being literally centimeters from mouth to mouth with the bear. "No reason." He blurted. Beach Bear smacked his leg, making the drummer jump. "Who actually says that?" Beach squinted at him. The polar bear turned to Mitzi. A wider smile crept onto his face. "We're gay."

Mitzi jolted back. "Huh?" She squeaked. Dook stared wide eyed at the surfer. Beach Bear raised a hand. "Yeah, you know what gay is, right?" Teddy turned his head to face the three of them. "I knew you were in the bathroom too long." Dook frowned at him, though his heart was beating too fast for him to look any threatening, his ears starting to raise. "We didn't do nuthin!" Dook started scooting back. Beach Bear kept a hand on his back. Mitzi nodded. "I know." She furrowed her thin brows at the two of them. "But..." She pointed at them, frowning. "Aren't you gonna die?"

Dook jolted, eyes as wide as planets as he stared at her. "What?!" Mitzi jumped at the volume. "Gay people get sick and die, right?" She folded her hands together, twisting her fingers together anxiously. Beach Bear shook his head. "No, Mitzi it's. We're not gonna die, and that sickness isn't limited TO gay people. You get sick if you aren't safe, and I think your school will explain that when you're older. But we're not going to die, we just, like men, and each other. And women. We're kinda like half gay." Beach Bear waved a hand, squinting up at the blanket fort roof. Dook nodded, looking to Mitzi. "Yeah, all that. Exactly that."

Mitzi slowly nodded. "Okay." She pushed her hands against her own fuzzy pants. "So you guys are boyfriends?" She smiled. Dook shrugged. "Guess so." He looked to the polar bear. Beach Bear raised a hand. "If you're cool with that." Mitzi still seemed a tad confused, but she didn't ask any further.

Wasn't long at all until the group of animals were all half asleep on the floor, shoved under the blanket fort like sardines. Mitzi was the first to actually go to sleep, migrating to Dook's room under the permission of the dog. Sheets were washed before he left anyway, so she couldn't care any less.