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Prompt: Water balloon fight since you can't have snow balls in the tropics

The Annual Tracy Holiday Water Balloon Fight

The afternoon sun blazed away high in the sky, the island below a veritable sauna, all the perfect set-up for the barbecue that was planned later that evening. Gulls squawked as they soared through the clouds, the waves in the distance lapped against rocks, and if Gordon Tracy wasn’t careful, he was at great risk of falling asleep right there and then, which wouldn’t have been ideal at all.

He had climbed the palm tree just south of the villa within moments of EOS starting the siren that echoed across the island. He hadn’t bothered with calculating how far up he’d got; all he knew was that it was the perfect vantage point.

This year, he was taking no chances. This year, Gordon was in it to win.

Unfortunately, having a can-do attitude wasn’t a sure-fire way of actually winning and so he’d spent the last six months preparing.

His usual Hawaiian shirt had been left draped over one of the lounge chairs, forgotten about in favour of a muted, earthy shade of taupe. Thank you John’s diabolically boring wardrobe! Camouflage was the most obvious starting point and, thankfully, Gordon wasn’t a complete beginner when it came to the skill. He’d picked up subtle hints, tips and tricks between his WASP training and spending more time with Lady Penelope—who was such an expert when it came to The Art of Going Undercover that Gordon wouldn’t have been surprised to find a book written by her in a bookshop within the next decade.

Going solo this year had also been his idea. When he’d first proposed the idea that they forgo the usual pairings in favour of an Every Man For Himself version of events, the others hadn’t been too keen. Gordon had pushed and pushed until the majority relented. As much fun as TT2 had been (Team Thunderbird 2, the name Gordon had given himself and Virgil, who had been his normal partner in crime), he’d realised he had more of a chance at winning this year if he went solo. That also gave some of the rest of his family the same advantage, but he could deal with that.

Gaining the high vantage from the trees had also been decided upon early in his planning. From the top of the tallest palm tree, Gordon could almost make out the coastline, and with his ugly shirt, he blended in with the foliage perfectly. Getting his bucket up there with him had been a little more difficult but he’d managed it all the same.

Now all he had to do was wait for a target.

He’d had the foresight to add a watch to his wrist so he knew exactly how long he’d been in hiding. Two hours, fifty nine minutes. No wonder he was starting to get sleepy. In the heat of the afternoon sun, and his comfortable position he’d got himself in, Gordon’s eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the second. Perhaps he should have clambered down to give his legs a stretch, if only to keep himself awake. It was a tempting idea, one he almost enacted, until he heard the scuffle of feet on the pathway beneath him.

From where he was perched, all Gordon could see was the messy tangle of golden locks that told him all he needed to know in regards to who had finally stumbled unknowingly into his trap. Alan was looking frantically over his shoulders, his breathing so laboured that Gordon could hear his younger brother panting. He slumped against the trunk of Gordon’s palm tree, hands on his hips as he tried to catch his breath. Gordon’s cunning plan had taken time to pay off, but it had worked. He couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto his face.

Reaching over a frond, Gordon carefully retrieved one of the water balloons from his precariously sat bucket—a red balloon because what other colour would befit his baby brother?—and then hovered it over the edge, aiming with as much precision as he could until…

SPLAT!

Exploding as it hit Alan right in the centre of his scruffy head, water spilled out all over him. His brother shrieked, twirling around to try and find the source of the attack.

Gordon couldn’t stifle his victorious laughter and, grabbing his bucket, he began his slow descent out of the tree. What greeted him at the bottom was a very soggy, very angry looking Alan.

“No fair!” His brother whined, picking out the remnants of the red balloon from his dripping locks. “You can’t do that! That was cheating!”

“There was no rule against hiding in the trees, Allie,” Gordon replied far too smugly. He pointed towards his brother’s head. “You missed a spot.”

Alan batted his hand away, scowling so hard that frown lines began to appear across his forehead. “I was going to win this year!”

“Keep on dreaming, Rocket Boy.”

With a huff and a puff, Alan folded his arms, defeated. He then glanced inside Gordon’s still-full bucket of water balloons. “Was I your first hit?”

Gordon rolled his shoulders. “Hiding up high has some advantages, but only if your targets decided to stop on by. So far, you’ve been my only caller. It also keeps you out of the action, so tell me, how’s it looking out there?”

“John’s out but I think he chose to be out. He didn’t put up much of a fight when Ridley chucked the balloon at him. I think she was kinda disappointed. Last I saw him, he was heading back to the villa with his eyes on his holo-tablet reading the latest edition of one of his journals.”

Which made total sense. If John wasn’t the first out, that would have been more surprising. One win (the first year) had been enough for their space brother and he hadn’t been interested in playing for too long since.

“Then there was Grandma. Scott snuck up on her and double-whammed her.”

Again, that made sense. Scott had a vendetta against their grandmother after she’d attempted to cheat the previous year. Her claims that Scott’s balloon hadn’t hit her were easily disputed by the fact that a) she was soaking wet and b) Brains had been a witness, albeit a very quiet one. For the last twelve months, Scott had been vocal about making sure to get Grandma properly. It sounded like he’d managed to achieve it.

“Virgil was next. Kayo got a good shot at him, but then Rigby managed to strike when she wasn’t looking. Kayo claimed that Virgil had been helping Rigby, but the pair deny it. It doesn’t matter though. While they were arguing amongst themselves, I managed to hit Rigby, so all three of them are out now.”

Alan took a breath before continuing with his breakdown of events thus far. “Brains was the next out, I think. Uncle Lee took him out when he was busy on his holo-tablet. He wasn’t happy about it; his holo-tablet got soaked in the process too, but Lee said he shouldn’t have had it out.”

How Brains had even been allowed to have it out during the game was surprising. EOS had made it very clear at the beginning of the game that none of them were allowed any sort of tech that might give them an advantage. Who knows what Brains had been looking at! Knowing the engineer, it had probably been some schematic that he’d suddenly had a brainwave for, but how was everyone else supposed to know that? For all they knew, he could have been looking at one of the various tracker maps they had for the island. Not that Brains would ever cheat, but still. It was the principle.

“Sounds like Lee was just playing the game,” Gordon conceded.

“Yeah, but he tried to call foul when Kip Harris caught him out on some steps. Said he almost slipped, fell and died. He was just being overdramatic, though. Scott witnessed the whole thing and claimed it was a totally legal move. He then threw a balloon at Kip and sprinted away from the scene.”

Gordon arched an eyebrow. “Is that who you were running from, then?”

“Hm?”

“When you stopped to take a breath, right before I hit you; you were running from someone, weren’t you? Was it Scotty?”

Alan winced slightly. “No. It wasn’t Scott but…”

Gordon grinned. “Did you get too cocky after you took Rigby out?”

“Okay, so I miiiiight have pushed it a little far after that.” He sighed, sitting himself down on a nearby boulder and swatting away some almost-invisible tiny bugs. His golden locks were still dripping, creating little wet patches on the grey of the rock. “In fairness, I was the one playing by the rules!”

“What did you do, Allie?” The accusation in Gordon’s tone was dulled by the fact that he was entirely amused by the prospective story.

“We said no partners this year, right? It was why Kayo got all huffy with Virgil and Rigs. So when I saw Penny and Parker looking like they were conspiring, I…” Alan trailed off, looking increasingly guilty.

Gordon urged him on with an encouraging, “Yes?”

“I might have thrown all my balloons towards them.”

It was Gordon’s turn to frown, brows creasing with confusion. “You got them out, so why were you running?”

Alan bit his lip. “My aim wasn’t very good and I only hit Parker with one of the seven that were launched. Penelope, knowing that I had no more balloons, marked me as a target, and Gordon, you know how scary Penny gets when she’s on the hunt!”

All of his efforts went into not laughing at his baby brother’s mistake and Gordon distracted himself by patting Alan on the shoulder. “So she chased after you?”

“And she is fast Gordon.”

The dam broke and his laughter rained freely. “It’s an easy blunder to make, Allie.”

Alan shrugged sadly. “I thought I’d lost her when you threw that thing at me. You could have given me a concussion from that height!”

Gordon’s fingers tousled through Alan’s wet hair. “Nothing in there to damage.”

“Hey!” But Alan chuckled all the same as he shoved Gordon away from him.

He did the quick calculation in his head as he regained his balance. Now that Gordon had ballooned Alan, that left himself, Scott, Ridley and Penny in the game. Ridley was one of the newbies this year and Gordon had yet to see the techniques she employed in play. Given that she was a successful GDF captain, however, had Gordon guessing she’d be a decent opponent, definitely worthy of the likes of Scott and Penny.

Penny.

She’d been chasing after Alan.

And Alan had ended up here…

The smile that Gordon had been sporting since successfully tagging Alan was wiped off his face. He span around, observing the clearing and the bushes beyond.

“Gordon, what are you—?”

He hushed Alan was a quick look, his finger on his lips, but he couldn’t hear anyone. Yet. This was Penelope, after all. Gordon wouldn’t necessarily hear her until she was ready to jump him.

With one swoop he picked up his bucket of balloons and began to leave the clearing with haste. Alan stumbled along behind him, clearly confused by his brother’s switch-up.

“I thought you liked this area? You had the high vantage point.”

“Yes, but now you’ve gone and ruined it.”

“Me?” Alan gasped incredulously. “How have I ruined it? You got me out!”

Gordon rolled his eyes, not letting up on his speed for a second. “You said Penny was chasing you. You could have led her straight here.”

If Alan felt in anyway guilty, he failed to show it. “I don’t think I did. I thought I was in the clear until you soaked me!” He shivered to make his point.

“You’re just being overdramatic. This is far better than the snowball fights we used to have instead.”

“Just because you’re a fish who enjoys getting wet, it doesn’t mean the rest of us do.”

“Alan,” Gordon sighed, “how exactly are we supposed to have a snowball fight in this climate?”

But before his brother could answer, the bushes beside them rustled and, launched from a particularly good hiding spot, a water balloon came flying across, hitting Alan straight in the shoulder.

Stunned, he whirled at the attacker, whining because he’d been soaked for the second time in half an hour. “I’m already out!”

Gordon wasted no time in returning the favour. He couldn’t work out exactly where they were hiding and so, playing it safe, he threw three balloons in the general area. All three hit their target with resounding slaps. Within seconds, the attacker had become the attacked, and a soggy looking Penelope came creeping out from the bushes.

She wore combat boots with khaki coloured trousers and a white top (although the white was more of a dirty grey-green now). Penelope, and by extension Parker, had taken the competition just as seriously as Gordon had this year. Along with Kayo, who had dressed equally as suitably, they’d perhaps been the only ones who had taken it so seriously.

Not that it did the other three much good. Gordon’s smug smile had returned in earnest.

“Sorry, Alan darling.” Penelope offered Alan and apologetic smile. “I had been aiming for your brother here.”

“Aaaaand ‘ya missed,” Gordon sang, greeting her with a taunting two-finger salute. “Too bad, Pen. Maybe next year.”

A twinkle shone in Penelope’s eyes then. “Who’s to say I won’t enact my revenge before then?”

Gordon, quite rightly, silenced himself. He knew better than to challenge Penelope any further, knowing full well that she would make good on any promise made.

The three of them began to make their way back to the villa slowly, Gordon taking the lead. It was a risky move, given that he was one of the last people standing. Perhaps he should have asked Penelope and Alan to flank him as protection. He’d made it this far—the final three—and shouldn’t have needlessly risked making himself a target before he had a shot at winning the competition.

But Alan and Penelope were chattering away behind him, something to do with Penelope and Parker’s earlier conspiring, and Gordon did not want to get himself involved in that conversation. Penelope’s thinly veiled threat was still fresh swirling around Gordon’s thoughts. He’d be sleeping with one eye open for the next few weeks.

The Final Three.

He’d made it! It took all of Gordon’s will to not start grinning unbearably again, after all he still had to track down Scott. Though his older brother might have held the winning spot for the last couple of years, Gordon had a good feeling this year would be different. Scott was lacking Brains as his partner this year, so if he played his cards right—

Gordon rounded the corner and exited the jungle first, Alan and Penelope now far enough behind that he’d lost sight of them.

But he wasn’t worried about that. Gordon was more concerned with his target, Scott, standing a few feet away, with his back to him. Maybe there was such a thing as Christmas miracles because something had dealt him his ability to win on a silver platter.

Or was that a blue platter? Scott was wearing his usual soft cyan shirt, easily identifiable and, unbeknownst to him, would be the cause of his brother losing to him this year.

Gordon lowered his bucket to the floor quietly and reached inside. One balloon. That was all he needed. That would be all it took. With a quick aim, he threw it and the balloon collided with Scott’s back, soaking his light blue shirt into a darker hue.

Scott whirled around in surprise, eyes searching for the culprit of the attack. When they landed on Gordon, he was already doing a victory dance, cheering wildly aloud. Scott’s attempted explanations fell on unhearing ears.

If Gordon had stopped his dancing for even a second, he would have noticed the large damp spot on the front of Scott’s shirt, the only indication that his brother had already been taken out. If Gordon had stopped cheering so loudly, he’d have heard Scott explain that Ridley was still close by, that she was waiting for him to jump out into the open.

If Gordon had realised he’d said Final Three but only accounted for himself and Scott, he might have avoided coming in at second place.

Because Ridley appeared out of nowhere and launched two balloons towards Gordon, both aimed directly at his chest. He couldn’t escape the trajectory. He’d been too late. The balloons exploded and the water soaked John’s shirt.

It put a stop to his dancing. Behind him, he heard Alan stifle a laugh.

Ridley O’Bannon, the new champion of the Annual Tracy Holiday Water Balloon Fight, stepped over to Gordon with her hand outstretched. “Thought you might have been missing home, Aqua-Boy.”

Even if he wanted to be mad at her, Gordon couldn’t find it in him. Ridley had won fair and square. Like the good sportsman all Tracys were, Gordon took her hand and offered her a firm shake. “I’ll get you next year, O’Bannon.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Penelope chirped up. “He says that every year.”

Gordon glanced over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Penelope. She simply pursed her lips and sent him an invisible kiss through the air.

“I’ll be sure to come back and defend my title,” Ridley grinned.

“I wouldn’t look too chipper.” Gordon turned back to the champion with a grin of his own, gesturing to John’s wet shirt. “There’s a Tracy in that villa who’ll be wanting words with you about soaking his favourite shirt.”

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