He wanted nothing to do with them. He wasn’t going to look at their stupid faces, he wasn’t going to walk over to their stupid stand, he wasn’t going to ask what stupid enterprise they’d cooked up this time, and he certainly wasn’t going to give them any sort of encouragement for their stupid, stupid scheme by doing any of the those other things.
Edward was just going to avert his eyes, hold his hands over his ears, and hope that he managed to get back to his cabin without tripping or bumping into something on the way.
“Hellooooo there, potential customer!”
Edward bit his bottom lip in anger and continued on his way. That stupid primate’s sickeningly cheery voice was still managing to grate his ears despite his palms being securely welded over them. Just keep walking, just keep walking. Don’t let them win. The minute they catch your attention, the whole camp will fall in step with their hippie-dippie shenanigans like dominoes, just like they always have.
“Step right up, come get yours today! All are welcome!”
Edward shut his eyes even tighter, and clenched his teeth. This newest nonsense wouldn’t be complete if that pencil-necked birdbrain wasn’t on board. They’ve been inseparable for the past month, and now that they’d joined forces, he hadn’t known peace. How far away could that stinking chicken coop be? Am I even headed the right way? Eh, any direction’s acceptable as long as it’s away from these cream puffs.
This is getting ridiculous. They’re literally calling out my name from across the camp. How desperate for attention can these numbskulls be?
“Look! Edward, look out!!”
Are you kiddi--PLOP. As he opened his eyes, he finally realized what they’d been getting at. In his impressive effort to ignore the two nitwits, he’d also managed to ignore a large rock in his path. He felt himself being picked up by two sets of hands.
Dave sat Edward down on a stool next to their makeshift stand, and dusted him off, while Lazlo ran off around the Mess Hall. Every time his hands made contact with Edward’s back, shoulders, and scruff of his neck, he clenched his fists just a little tighter.
“That was a pretty nasty fall you took there,” Dave mused after he’d finished, cocking his head and looking down upon him in an almost motherly way.
Edward did a double-take. Was he... wearing flowers? On his... head? This walking, talking stop sign was wearing a crown made of flowers, tulips to be precise, the color of freshly-whipped cotton candy. What kind of new age Woodstock nonsense is that? Monkeyboy put him up to this, I just know it. That goober and everything he stands for are an infectious disease that need to be contained before they poison the rest of civilization.
Edward looked to the left of the doting little loon. There was a large rectangular crate, painted asparagus green, with countless arrangements of all sorts of flowers perched on top. On the longer side facing out towards the camp, written in still oozing white paint, were the words “Lazlo and Dave’s Camp Kidney Flower Emporium ~ All are welcome!”
There came a sound of rapid footsteps on grass from behind, and along came Lazlo, carrying along a band-aid he’d gotten from the Nurse’s Office like some sort of kite. He bent down and carefully laid the bandage over Edward’s right knee. Edward realized, to his disgust, that Lazlo too was wearing one of those dainty flower crowns, also made of tulips. Unlike Dave’s, Lazlo’s were a candy apple red, and grew whiter closer to where the stems would have been.
“Aaaand, there. There we go. Nurse Leslie gave me this bandage for you,” he said, standing back up, “He also had a message for you.” He put his hand to his chin, as if he’d already forgotten. “Something about... looking where you’re going. OH, and to use your Anger Bag more.”
Edward tried to melt Lazlo’s head with his mind. Needless to say, it didn’t work, and he knew it wouldn’t from the beginning, but boy, did he wish it would.
“Nurse Leslie also said to stay put for a little while,” he added, “Just so the band-aid can set.”
Bologna. Edward felt convinced that Nurse Leslie just wanted to make him sit through an explanation of what the two were up to. He could feel him laughing in his office from the comfort of that stool he never, ever got off of. I ought to kick that pink knucklehead in his brittle uncooked spaghetti shins the next time I see him.
“That gives us some time to explain our latest project, doesn’t it Laz?” Dave asked, looking over at the spider monkey as if he’d hatched the world’s greatest idea since farming.
“That it does, Dave, my old partner in business and life generally!”
They hugged, just two feet in front of him. They disgusted him, they really did. They were so happy together, and so willing to show it. He wanted to puke right on their shoes, but he felt even that wouldn’t upset them in the slightest.
“Well, Mr. Platypus,” smiled Lazlo, once he and Dave had finally come apart, (with a noticeable reluctance in both, Edward noticed with revulsion,) “Lazlo and Dave’s Camp Kidney Flower Emporium was established with one goal in mind.”
“Tormentin’ me?” Edward asked, holding on tightly to the edge of the stool.
“No, silly!” Lazlo carelessly smiled with a dismissive flip of the hand, though Dave looked slightly off-put, “Giving out flowers from the forest to the other campers, to brighten up their day!”
“-And spruce up their cabins!” put in Dave, leaning slightly closer to Lazlo.
“Or their heads!” Lazlo added, pointing at his crown, “Or their necks-”
“Wrists!” Dave chimed in, looking Lazlo in the face.
“ALRIGHT,” Edward blurted out. Anything to stop them becoming a literal hivemind. “Tell me, NO, enlighten me... what kickstarted this nitwit cockamamie joint of yours?”
“Why, it’s very simple, Edward,” Lazlo said matter-of-factly, “Every morning, me and Dave go for a walk through the forest. We feed the animals, watch the clouds-”
“-Maybe have a smooch or ten...” butted in Dave, causing the two to hold hands and giggle.
“YEUGH!” groaned Edward, putting out his hands and shutting his eyes, “Just spare me tha’ details and get to the part about the flowuz, you rosy pansies!”
“Oh, right, the flowers,” Lazlo’s train of thought suddenly hopped back onto the rails. “Well, there’s a meadow in the middle of the forest, and it’s got loads of flowers.”
“And they’re so darn pretty,” Dave continued, “We thought we couldn’t just not share them with the other campers. So, we built this stand here with a crate, some nails, paint, and a whole lot of love-”
“-And that’s where you came in,” finished Lazlo. “We were only open about three minutes before that. Soooo...” he smirked, poking a very unwelcome finger into Edward’s chest, “We were wondering if you’d be our first customer.”
Edward now stared blankly at them, rather than with hatred. Maybe if he bought something, he could get the heck away from them.
“Well, considering the labor in picking, carrying, and organizing the flowers, building and maintaining the stand, supply and demand, competing market prices, we’d say... nothing,” Dave replied simply, putting an arm around Lazlo.
“...Nothin’?” Edward echoed, “...but you guys could be makin’ a mint offa this frilly little business, as stupid as it may be!”
“Don’t be silly, Edward,” Lazlo grinned, shaking his head, “Money has no value at our stand, although a compliment from the customer would be accepted.”
“And encouraged!” Dave’s interruptions were getting under Edward’s skin now.
But, after a moment, Edward appeared to be mulling it over. With a finger around his chin, he got up, his knee still aching slightly, and looked over the selection.
“Whatta these?” he asked, pointing at some small flowers with magenta petals.
“Geraniums, a.k.a. cranebills, a.k.a dilys, a.k.a. Geranium disecctum,” Dave replied, without skipping a beat. Edward was impressed. He’d forgotten how booksmart Dave was. Apparently Lazlo’s affection hadn’t tainted it.
“They represent true friendship, preference, and bridal favor,” he quickly added. Okay, Edward mused, it had tainted it a little bit.
“An’ these?” he asked, pointing at some rather large periwinkle flowers.
“Those are hydrangeas,” smiled Lazlo, “They symbolize gratitude.”
Edward looked over to some flowers on the far end of the crate.
“An’ doez?” These flowers were quite small. They were a creamy white, and Edward noticed that they had a rather strong smell to them.
Lazlo and Dave looked at each other, absolutely beaming. Edward was beginning to regret asking.
“Ohhh, those are gardenias!” Dave gushed, walking over to them and picking them up, almost cradling them. “They don’t grow in America, so we bought them from the flowershop in Prickly Pines this morning,”
Lazlo and Dave’s eyes again met. They then broke down into a sort of giggling fit.
“Well? WHATTA THEY MEAN?”
They eventually stopped laughing, and caught their breath.
“Ohhh, those?” asked Dave, trying to hold yet more giggles in, while Lazlo watched with tear-filled eyes, “They don’t have a meaning.”
Edward looked stumped. “...No meaning?”
“Nope!” Lazlo chuckled, elbowing Dave behind the crate. Edward stared at the flowers for quite some time. He felt like he was being put up to something, but he couldn’t be sure.
“So they don’t represent no mushy poetic malarkey or nothin’?’” he asked, looking up at the two, “No bridal favor or fondness or anythin’ like dat?”
“Nope, aucune,” replied Dave.
“Absolutamente nenhuma,” Lazlo chipped in.
Edward stared at the flowers for just a bit longer. He could be making a grave mistake in buying these, but then...
“...I’ll take ‘em,” he almost murmured.
“Certainly, beloved customer!” Lazlo chirruped, “Just one or the whole bunch?”
“Here you go,” Lazlo said, handing over the little plastic pot.
“Wait just a moment!” Dave’s hand stuck between Edward and the gardenias.
“Ugh, what is it now, skinny malink? I’m doin’ business witcha, ain’t dat enough?”
“There is the issue of our previously mentioned sales policy.”
Edward remembered what that meant, and looked like he’d just been caught in a pair of headlights. Did he really have to complement these two morons, after all he’d already been through?
“What? No way! I ain’t complementin’ you or ya little Brazil nut!”
Lazlo and Dave glanced at one another. Dave folded his arms, while Lazlo pulled the plastic pot a few inches back.
“Sorry, still beloved customer, but policy is policy.”
“No complement, no accommodation!” added Dave firmly, wagging a finger.
“Oh come on, those words barely sound alike!”
“Sir, am I going to have to escort you from the stand?” Dave asked, moving a step closer, somehow still managing to appear intimidating.
Edward gulped. He didn’t like his chances against the loon, as scrawny as he may have been.
“Uh, okay, okay!” He looked down at the ground, lip quavering in disgust. He really didn’t want to do this. He was becoming increasingly tempted to simply put the flowers back and not have to go to the trouble of giving these numbskulls any sort of gratification.
“Uhhh, I...” He felt a rather large and piercing lump developing in his throat.
“Go on, Edward, you can do it! Just say something nice, and the flowers are yours!” Lazlo coaxed.
Dave had his arms folded, and was tapping his right foot impatiently. It was at this moment Edward remembered how Ping Pong had once told him he and Dave had both earned black belts in mixed martial arts back in Canada. He had better say something quick. He valued his ribs over his pride, but just barely.
“...Your flowuh crowns are... cute, and you guys got... good chemistry.”
Edward silently cursed himself. Not only had he given in, but he’d also accidentally given them one more complement than was necessary. Good chemistry? Where the heck did that come from?
“Why, thank you, much appreciated customer!” Lazlo replied, beaming even more ear to ear than usual. He handed over the pearly little flowers without hesitation.
“When it comes to chemistry,” Dave grinned, again putting his arm around Lazlo, “Lazlo and I are Nobel Prize winners, isn’t that right Laz?”
Lazlo tittered, flicking the end of Dave’s beak, “We sure are, tall, feathered and handsome!”
And again they hugged, which Edward promptly took as his cue to leave.
Lazlo stretched his head around Dave’s neck, waved and shouted, “Come back anytime, cherished customer!”
“Maybe not quite yet,” Dave continued, “My associate’s two-lips need tending to!”
Ugh, feets do your stuff and get me outta here. Edward practically scrambled away from the lovebird and the love-monkey, holding the gardenias to his chest, while also keeping a close eye on the path ahead of him.
This is perfectly normal, he tried to convince himself. A boy purchasing flowers to give another boy, nothing romantic at all about it. How could he possibly have feelings for Lovebird’s twin brother? Knowing they came from the same gene pool was repulsive enough. This was just a token of his esteem for Ping Pong. It had nothing to do with his cutting wit, his regal stature, or how he constantly smelled of old books, pretzels and bubblegum.
Besides, Edward thought to himself, these stupid little soap bubbles don’t even have a symbolic meanin’.
He found Ping Pong in his usual spot, sitting nonchalantly on the stoop of his cabin, holding a heavy opened book at forearm’s length, eyes scanning the pages meticulously.
“Hey! Nerdwad! Over here!” Ping Pong flopped the book onto his knee, of course holding the page he had paused on with this thumb, to see the puny, pugnacious platypus fast-walking towards him with a pot of flowers.
“Got these for ya,” he almost growled, dropping the pot at the larger loon’s feet.
Ping Pong picked them up, held them to his face, and pored over the flowers’ leaves and petals.
“Hmm...” he hummed, “Gardenias a.k.a. Gardenia jasminoides.”
“...Symbolic for purity, love, and refinement, often used in Victorian times to express feelings of love for another when it couldn’t otherwise be articulated.”
He looked over at Edward, who was now blushing as red as a prize-winning rose, and said with a smirk, “Thanks a bunch, Eddie-boy. I can’t say your affections for me haven’t exactly been subtle over this past summer, but rest assured they are wholeheartedly reciprocated.”
Edward didn’t answer. He appeared to be doing his best to hold in a scream.
“Quit blowing a gasket and come over here, you little polliwog,” Ping Pong muttered flatly, patting the spot next to him on the stoop, now returning to his book.
Edward again said nothing. He sat down roughly on the stoop, scooted up close to the loon, and lay his head on his shoulder. The loon ruffled the little platypus’ hair, held him closer, and continued on reading.
