Flufftober 2020: Day Eight
Prompt: Clothes
Pairing: Swapfell Skelebros
Category: Familial
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Mutt avoided laundry day for this exact reason. After realizing that his beloved jacket thoroughly reeked of smoke, barbecue sauce, and unwashed bones, he’d washed it, only for it to turn up missing. Good jackets were hard to find, especially ones with the big fluffy hoods that he preferred. This one had even been embroidered with a Gaster blaster silhouette across the back (courtesy of spider monster and local entrepreneur, Muffet), and now it was gone!
He doubted that he’d find another jacket in his size and style at the Dump, but walking around in his tank top and jeans left Mutt feeling extremely exposed and vulnerable. He needed the bulk of the jacket to comfort him and add some intimidation to his look to keep other, more powerful monsters away. He couldn’t risk being injured with a babybones brother to take care of.
Speaking (or rather thinking) of little Blackberry- a name based entirely on his roundness and magic color… where had the stripes-clad little stinker run off to?
Mutt’s search for his jacket became a search for the wayward babybones. Blackberry had a knack for getting into trouble, and brothers couldn’t be scavenged for at the Dump. Mutt rushed through the interconnected caves that comprised their personal fortress until he heard the boisterous sound of Blackberry’s voice. For a tiny little guy, the babybones sure spoke loudly!
When Mutt finally stumbled upon the cave where his brother was playing, he found the cutest sight that his eyelights could ever hope to behold: Blackberry was wearing his jacket, and it was quite a few sizes too big. Black’s stubby arms barely reached the elbows, and the overhanging sleeves flopped adorably as he gestured. The hem of the jacket dragged along the cave floor, and Black occasionally tripped over it.
One of Black’s stuffed animals, a bunny with one drooping ear, sat propped against a rock; several other stuffed animals that Mutt had collected for his brother over the course of his garbage scavenging trips surrounded the bunny.
“DON’T WOWWY, BWACKBEWWY!” bellowed the babybones in what Mutt assumed was meant to me an imitation of his voice. “YOUW BIG BWOTHER IS HEWE TO SAVE YOU!”
Careful to remain unseen, Mutt took his precious cell phone- a gift from his sometimes benefactor Muffet- out of his pocket and hit the button to record a video.
“THEY’WE TOO STWONG!” cried Blackberry, bouncing his bunny doll in time with the words as if the doll itself was speaking in the falsetto that Black used for his own voice.
“NOBODY’S TOO STWONG FOW THE GWEAT PAPYWUS! WHAM! POW! YOU’WE BWOO NOW! TIME FOR MY GASTER BWASTER ATTACK!” Blackberry responded, using his “Papywus” voice again. He then proceeded to make kicking, punching, and karate chopping gestures at the other plush toys, knocking them over one by one and providing extremely inaccurate sound effects and exaggerated cries for “mewcy.”
“YOU’WE MY HEWO!” declared the stuffed bunny version of Blackberry as the real Blackberry accepted a hug from the doll.
“I’M NO HEWO,” answered the Mutt-voice, “I’M JUST THE GWEATEST BIG BWOTHER EVER!”
Wiping tears from the corners of his sockets, Mutt saved the video then swooped down on his doppelganger to pull him into a tight hug, jacket theft completely forgotten. Years later, when life looked bleak and tough situations pushed him to the edge of falling down, he would take out his phone and watch that video. It reminded him that he had something to look forward to each and every day: his brother, Blackberry.
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DAY SEVEN | INDEX | DAY NINE
