A Day in the Life [2a/?]
anonymous
June 6 2009, 00:41:02 UTC
Arthur was the first one up that morning, and in a rare moment of wanting to do something nice for his family ‘just because,’ he decided that he would make breakfast. Needless to say, when Marianne came dashing in exclaiming “Ma cuisine,” he was quite annoyed.
“Look, it was only a small fire,” Arthur said in a misguided attempt to comfort the crying Marianne. “Porridge usually doesn’t destroy the kitchen.”
“Mon cher Arthur,” Marianne started quietly, trying to keep her emotions under control. “You were only boiling water. There shouldn’t have been a fire. Ever. From boiling water.”
“But-“
“Leave. Maintenant. Go…wake the boys and I’ll try to…salvage…something for breakfast.” And, without letting Arthur get a word in edge-wise, she pushed him out of the kitchen.
“Fine! It’s not like I was making breakfast for your benefit or anything,” Arthur grumbled as he stomped his way to Alfred’s room. Why was she so upset, anyway? It was just a small fire, nothing unusual. The kitchen was still more or less intact, wasn’t it? What’s the big problem? Shaking his head at his partner’s bizarre hysterics, he pushed the bedroom door open. “Alfred, time to wake up.” No response. “Alfred!” The bed was still. Annoyed, Arthur stormed over to the bed and punctured a loud “Alfred!” by yanking back the blanket…which revealed an empty bed. Arthur dropped the blanket and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was going to be one of those days. “That bloody brat had better be with Matthew or else,” He told the fairy on his shoulder who twittered in laughter before disappearing.
Arthur crossed the hall to Matthew’s room, sighing in relief when he saw two lumps on the boy’s bed. Alfred must have gotten scared and run to Matthew’s room in the middle of the night or something. That boy was terrified of ghosts and Arthur couldn’t figure out why. The only ones that lived in the house were nice and accommodating, unlike other ghosts he had been exposed to. Hopefully it was just a phase but with that boy, who really knew. “Alfred, Matthew, time to wake up,” Arthur said to the room, but neither boy stirred. He got an odd feeling of déjà vu as he walked over to the bed to yank back the blanket. “Boys, wake up!”
Alfred and Matthew jumped awake with the loss of warmth and blinked at Arthur. “It’s time to wake up,” Arthur repeated, and the boys continued staring at him. “It’s morning, are you going to be joining us for breakfast anytime soon?”
“What?!” Alfred yelled, shocking his father. Matthew looked at his brother in confusion.
“Look, it was only a small fire,” Arthur said in a misguided attempt to comfort the crying Marianne. “Porridge usually doesn’t destroy the kitchen.”
“Mon cher Arthur,” Marianne started quietly, trying to keep her emotions under control. “You were only boiling water. There shouldn’t have been a fire. Ever. From boiling water.”
“But-“
“Leave. Maintenant. Go…wake the boys and I’ll try to…salvage…something for breakfast.” And, without letting Arthur get a word in edge-wise, she pushed him out of the kitchen.
“Fine! It’s not like I was making breakfast for your benefit or anything,” Arthur grumbled as he stomped his way to Alfred’s room. Why was she so upset, anyway? It was just a small fire, nothing unusual. The kitchen was still more or less intact, wasn’t it? What’s the big problem? Shaking his head at his partner’s bizarre hysterics, he pushed the bedroom door open. “Alfred, time to wake up.” No response. “Alfred!” The bed was still. Annoyed, Arthur stormed over to the bed and punctured a loud “Alfred!” by yanking back the blanket…which revealed an empty bed. Arthur dropped the blanket and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was going to be one of those days. “That bloody brat had better be with Matthew or else,” He told the fairy on his shoulder who twittered in laughter before disappearing.
Arthur crossed the hall to Matthew’s room, sighing in relief when he saw two lumps on the boy’s bed. Alfred must have gotten scared and run to Matthew’s room in the middle of the night or something. That boy was terrified of ghosts and Arthur couldn’t figure out why. The only ones that lived in the house were nice and accommodating, unlike other ghosts he had been exposed to. Hopefully it was just a phase but with that boy, who really knew. “Alfred, Matthew, time to wake up,” Arthur said to the room, but neither boy stirred. He got an odd feeling of déjà vu as he walked over to the bed to yank back the blanket. “Boys, wake up!”
Alfred and Matthew jumped awake with the loss of warmth and blinked at Arthur. “It’s time to wake up,” Arthur repeated, and the boys continued staring at him. “It’s morning, are you going to be joining us for breakfast anytime soon?”
“What?!” Alfred yelled, shocking his father. Matthew looked at his brother in confusion.
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