Chapter Text
“What’s in it for me?” Ghoul wanted to know.
“The unparalleled joy of making those bastards’ lives a living hell?” Party offered desperately. He was nearly bouncing on his toes with suppressed rage and excitement.
“Tempting.” Ghoul made a big show of considering. (He’d pretended to be surprised when Party had stalked over and started ranting about how Cherri and Kobra had been faking their new relationship for the past week to get Party back for something. He didn’t want any of the wrath Party was vibrating with directed at him .) “If we do, I have conditions.”
“Whatever you want! I just need a partner in crime.” Party dropped to his knees dramatically. “Help me, Ghoulie, you’re my only hope.”
Ghoul lifted an eyebrow. “Only hope?”
“Jet wouldn’t. Not in a million years.”
“Yeah, you’re right, he wouldn’t.”
“Just think of their faces,” Party wheedled. “Totally worth it. Please? I’ll do anything.”
Ghoul grinned down at him. “Anything, huh?”
Party leapt to his feet, glaring. “You know what I mean.”
“Hey, you left that one wide open.” Ghoul sat back and steepled his fingers, thinking. “Okay, first condition. The line is here.” He passed a hand up and down in front of his face. “Don’t cross it.”
Party blanched. “Was that on the table? Way too obvious.”
“Exactly. This operation has one pre-established rule we must abide by: avoid definitive action at all cost. This is pure mindfuckery. No pun intended.” Ghoul tapped his chin. “Hmm. How much do you trust me?”
Party side-eyed him. “As...as little as possible?”
“Well, I don’t half-ass prank wars.”
“I’m aware. You don’t need to remind me about the hairspray/toaster incident that nearly took my head off.”
“Touché. But how much do you trust me?”
“That’s a loaded question!”
“Oh, so you’re just chicken. Bold move, Poison, coming to ask for my help and then back-pedalling like a cowardly bicycle—”
“Okay, okay! I trust you.”
“Shiny! So glad we’re on the same page. As for the second condition…”
“Yeah?”
“Anything else goes. It’s gotta be realistic.”
“Wait, so there’s no plan?”
“We don’t need plans.”
“But how will I kno—”
“Oh, Poison,” Ghoul grinned again. “You’ll know.”
~~~
“Hm,” Kobra said. “We didn’t actually win.”
The elation of their near-victory was fading, he was exhausted, and the kitchen was a disaster.
And now the poptarts were gone, too. That was the real tragedy here.
“I hate to admit it, but you’re right,” Cherri said. He kicked his heel into the cabinet below. Then he slid off the counter. “Seriously, what’s it going to take to break this guy?”
“It’s Party. Shoulda known he was gonna be stubborn as shit.” Kobra rubbed his forehead. “Why, you wanna tap out?”
“No!” Cherri said, picking up a metal bowl and setting it back on the counter. Contrary to popular belief, he did have a competitive side, thank you very much, and besides, they were both in way too deep to call it quits now. “I want to gross him out so bad he regrets being born.”
“We’re certainly gonna make him regret I was born,” Kobra said, starting to get back into the spirit of things. He hopped down from the counter. “There’s tons more we can do, come on. War room, now.”
“Hand,” Cherri reminded him. The others were out there, after all. Kobra grabbed the one he held out and pulled him from the kitchen.
They made a quick dash from the dining area where Party was ranting animatedly at Ghoul in a hushed voice — no doubt agonizing over the atrocity he had barely escaped witnessing a few minutes before when he’d walked in on them exactly according to their plan, muahaha — and out to the shed in the backyard.