Chapter Text
June 1999 Outside a church, the wake of Mrs. Weird was being held. She was the wife of the well-known scientist Dr. Weird, and her cause of death was complications from a recent childbirth. At her age, it had been a major risk, and she suffered severe internal bleeding. Yet, out of that tragedy came a miracle: the birth of a healthy baby boy named Matthew Weird. It was a name given by his mother as her final wish in life for him. The little one was the youngest brother of the couple's two other children: Franklin Weird, the middle child—a talented prodigy and his father's favorite—and Sheldon Weird, the oldest, who was wild, rebellious, less talented than Franklin, and deeply attached to his late mother.
The three family members were gathered in the chapel, watching the funeral service. Franklin stood in the back, sad and serious, watching over a small stroller where Matthew slept through the whole service. Sheldon, by contrast, looked angry, his eyes filled with depression ever since he received the news of his mother's passing. He was in a constant state of denial and loathed being near that thing he was supposed to call his baby brother. As for Dr. Weird, his eyes were empty and lifeless; his was the saddest expression in the room.
Only a few relatives and coworkers of Dr. Weird attended the service. The only family members who showed up were Walter Melon and his wife, who arrived as a surprise. After the reverend finished speaking, there was a moment to bid a cordial farewell to the deceased. It was then that the family took the opportunity to speak.
Sheldon: “IT’S YOUR FAULT! IT’S YOUR DAMN FAULT MOM IS GONE!!”
Sheldon lunged to kick Matthew’s stroller, but Franklin blocked him, protecting the baby.
Franklin: *“Shake, stop it! He’s just a baby.”
Sheldon: “But that piece of trash is a serial criminal demon! What he did to her is unforgivable.”
Sheldon looked furious, but his eyes shed tears of accumulated grief and rage.
Franklin: *“It was an unforeseen tragedy, Shake. You should be glad our little brother made it out alive. It’s what Mom always wanted.”
Sheldon: “I’d rather that damn sack of meat were dead too, or that he didn’t even exist! At least then she wouldn’t have died!”
Matthew began to cry out of nowhere, startled by Shake's loud screaming.
Matthew: *“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaa!!!”
Sheldon: “AND YOU SHUT UP, YOU DAMN CARPET RAT!”
Sheldon stormed over and violently shook the baby’s stroller, but Frylock stopped him. Just then, a familiar roar cut through the room.
Dr. Weird: “THAT IS ENOUGH, SHELDON! STOP DOING THAT! YOU ARE AT A DAMN FUNERAL WITH PEOPLE AROUND!!!”
Sheldon let go of the stroller and sat back down near Franklin, defeated.
As they sat on a step near the casket, they noticed a visit from Walter Melon—a short, red-haired man with a wrinkled face—and his wife, nicknamed "Big Burrito" due to a joke Sheldon made years ago. She was a tall, dark-skinned woman of Latina descent, somewhat heavy-set but very elegant. She walked over to greet the two brothers.
Big Burrito: “My condolences to you both. I am so sorry you have to go through this.”
Sheldon was in no mood to talk, while Franklin looked up at his aunt with a serious expression.
Franklin: *“This whole situation was completely unexpected. We are just trying to keep our composure right now.”
Big Burrito: *“If you need anything at all, just let me know. I’ll be here to support you.”
Franklin: “Thank you so much, Auntie.”
The woman walked back over to her husband, Walter Melon, who was talking with Dr. Weird, and joined their conversation.
From where the two brothers sat, the adults' conversation was a blur. They caught snippets about whether Dr. Weird needed help taking care of his youngest son, but the doctor flatly refused. In silence, the two brothers simply stared at the funeral atmosphere. They could feel that their world was about to change. It was a horrible realization, but they had to accept it nonetheless...
Days After the Funeral
The family dynamic in the Weird household had completely shifted. Franklin was the only one moving forward with his life. His new routine consisted of taking care of his baby brother Matthew, taking driving lessons, and looking for a job. He was stepping into the role their mother had left behind as a way to cope with the change. He constantly had to stop his older brother from trying to hurt the baby, knowing full well how much Shake hated him. At the same time, Franklin was the only sane person left in the house, as he had noticed a severe deterioration in his father's mental state after his mother's death.
Sheldon was the one who suffered the most from the change. He was in complete denial, and his negative behavior worsened drastically as the days went by. He did everything possible to avoid looking at his younger brother; he hated him deeply, and seeing him only reminded him of why their mother died. He frequently isolated himself from the family, hiding out in his bedroom to watch TV alone as a way to escape his reality.
Both of them noticed a severe change in their father, Dr. Weird. Little by little, his sanity was slipping into total madness. It showed in his increasingly detached behavior toward the three of them. He did very few things, like working, looking after Matthew, and doing light chores around the house in a somewhat normal manner. But sometimes he would cross the line or do something bizarre—times when he would slightly abuse his children, including his youngest son, with what he called his "experiments." This went on until a certain day in November of that same year, during what would become "The Weird Family's Last Family Photo"...
November 1999
Inside a photo studio at a local mall, the Weird family gathered to take a family portrait. Franklin, Sheldon, and Dr. Weird were dressed formally. Little Matthew wore a red onesie and was wrapped in a large red blanket, fast asleep in Dr. Weird's arms. They looked displeased with one another, their faces wearing expressions of disgust and sadness, for the family environment had horribly decayed since the loss of their main pillar.
They took the photo without any immediate incidents. To outsiders, they looked like an elegant, sophisticated family with a serious aura in the way they acted and dressed. But beneath the surface, the very concept of their family was on the verge of fracturing both physically and emotionally.
After the photo session, the family piled into the car. Dr. Weird was at the wheel, Franklin was in the passenger seat, and Sheldon and Matthew were in the back. The dark night and the howling wind were clear signs of an impending storm over the area. They drove off into the pitch-black road toward home.
The family sat in heavy silence, which had become normal for them. The only sound was the rock music playing on the radio. From his seat, Franklin looked at the photo they had just taken, feeling a wave of melancholy. It was the first time they had taken a group photo without her, and it broke his heart. As he stared at it, Dr. Weird tried to strike up a conversation.
Dr. Weird: *“Hey, Franklin...”
Franklin: *“Yeah?”
Dr. Weird: “Would you be interested in participating in one of my upcoming experiments at work?”
Franklin looked at his father, thoroughly confused by the proposal. It felt strange for his father to ask him to join him in his work.
Franklin: *“You seriously want me to work with you?”
Dr. Weird: “Yes...”
Dr. Weird unbuckled his seatbelt. Franklin noticed this and grew even more confused.
Dr. Weird: *“The experiment is that I am going to exit the vehicle, and then I will see if you guys exit too...”
Franklin: “WAIT, WHAT?!”
Dr. Weird leaped out of the moving car, rolling away into the darkness and leaving his three children completely alone in the vehicle. Franklin couldn't believe what his father had just done. It was pure, unadulterated madness.
With no one at the wheel, the car swerved violently out of control, terrifying the two brothers.
Sheldon: “HEY... HE REALLY ABANDONED US!!”
They watched as the car spun further out of control, heading straight toward a road near a cliffside. Reacting quickly, Franklin dove into the driver's seat and, using his limited driving knowledge, slammed on the brakes just as the car came to a screeching halt on the very edge of the precipice.
Young Franklin was in a complete state of shock. Behind the seats, Sheldon was horrified, sitting right next to little Matthew, who was wailing in his car seat. Franklin had just barely saved his own life and the lives of his brothers after the insanity his father had just pulled. He was stunned and bewildered by how dangerous his father could be in his bouts of madness.
Shedding tears of pure terror, with anger burning in his soul, he spoke.
Franklin: “Our father really just did that.”
Looking back at his two terrified brothers, he realized they were physically fine but emotionally shattered. That was the exact moment they stopped trusting their father completely. What he had done was an extreme, senseless act of madness. It was deeply disturbing; they had just barely survived an attempted murder.
Franklin wept silently, trying to maintain his composure as he used what he knew to drive the family car home.
Shake: *“WHAT THE FUCKING HELL WAS THAT OLD MAN THINKING?!”
Shake: “HE WANTED TO KILL THE TWO OF US!!...” he yelled, terrified and enraged.
Frylock: *“The three of us... including Matthew.”
Shake: “I don't give a crap about him, honestly... But seriously, that bastard tried to kill us.”
Frylock tried to calm Shake down, forcing his voice to sound as serene as possible.
Frylock: “Fortunately, we are alive. We should be glad about that... It’s just... I don't trust our father at all anymore... He’s getting crazier and more violent with us every day, and this whole situation terrifies me. I dread to think what might happen to us in the future.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over Shake. Matthew continued to cry in the background while Frylock shed more tears of sadness and fear as he drove them home.
Shake: . . .
After spending a moment in silence, Shake responded to his brother in a dead-serious tone.
Shake: “We should move out and live on our own. At least then we’ll have the right to control our own destiny... Just imagine, you and me, living as a new family... That would be great.”
Frylock pondered the thought before replying solemnly.
Frylock: “It’s a good idea. But right now, it would be difficult to pull off. Maybe with more planning, we can make it a reality.”
The Escape
Days went by at the Bella Island estate. After the near-fatal incident in the car, Frylock was entirely fed up with enduring his father's erratic and psychotic behavior. In his mind, he began plotting a way for him and his brothers to leave their home and start a new life far away from their father.
In his spare time, Frylock researched locations and housing prices, looking for something cheap to rent that was fully functional to live in. He searched through street brochures and websites alike, orchestrating a plan to slip away unnoticed by Dr. Weird. His strategy was to take advantage of the days when his father stayed at work around the clock and move out then. The only thing left to do was share the entire plan with his brother, Shake.
On one of those days, after visiting the rental house in person, young Frylock returned to the Bella Island estate to tell his older brother about the plan. But when he walked into the living room, he encountered an obstacle: a horrifying sight of his father in the kitchen, feeding Matthew with one of his bizarre inventions—a bra with two baby bottles attached to it, simulating a woman's chest. Frylock was nauseated by how weird and disgusting the object looked. He tried to slip away to Shake’s room unnoticed, but Dr. Weird spotted him and, with his usual look of distaste, questioned him.
Dr. Weird: *“Where did you go, Franklin?...”
Frylock: “I went to pick up some college paperwork.”
He spoke with total seriousness, delivering an obvious lie to his father. Weird let out a maniacal grin and, with a deeply unsettling look, replied:
Dr. Weird: “That is excellent... tell me more about it later over dinner.”
Frylock stood in silence, staring at Weird’s face as he backed away toward the bedrooms. In a firm voice, he replied:
Frylock: “Yeeeeah... I'll tell you later.”
He hurried over to Shake’s room to find him, as Shake had been hiding out in his bedroom for the past few days. To his lack of surprise, he found him sitting on his bed, solitary, strumming a guitar. Shake noticed Frylock and snapped rudely:
Shake: *“Hey... you didn't knock...”
Frylock: “Sorry, I just came to tell you something important.”
Shake stopped playing and tossed the guitar into a corner of his bed. He stared intently at Frylock with an unusually serious, yet somewhat angry expression.
Shake: “Alright, what do you have to say?...”
Frylock pulled a brochure from his pocket showing a brick condominium house and handed it to Shake. Shake analyzed it, looking thoroughly confused.
Frylock: *“I just rented this house... The lease is annual, and it fits our budget if we want to live on our own.”
Shake: *“Wow... I didn't expect you to actually do that... I am so sick of putting up with this crazy, washed-up old man.”
Shake: *“This morning he threatened me with a fork just to make him his damn breakfast.”
Frylock: “He seriously did that?” Frylock asked, deeply concerned.
Shake: *“YES!... He is spinning out of control with me... I can't stand his twisted bullshit anymore. At this point, I don't even know how we're still surviving under the same roof with him.”
Frylock: “I just wanted to let you know that we are moving out this coming Sunday. I took advantage of the days our father will be stuck at work so we can escape without raising any suspicion... I rented a moving truck. Pack your things so we can take them to our new home.”
Shake fell silent, stunned by the wonderful news Frylock had just delivered. Intrigued, he asked:
Shake: *“So we're getting a fresh start?”
Frylock: *“Technically, yes...”
Shake: *“Awesome... I really need this. Honestly, I want to form a whole new identity. I am sick of people around here recognizing me as Sheldon Weird. That name is totally ridiculous for a famous person and future rock musician.”
Frylock: “Heheh... It’s a good opportunity to at least have a new identity,” Frylock replied, playing along with Shake's "joke" as he edged toward the door.
Shake noticed and, with a rare hint of warmth in his voice, told his brother:
Shake: “Thanks for doing this.”
That sentence brought a slight smile to Frylock’s face as he looked at him and slowly closed the bedroom door. He had succeeded in saving his brothers by choosing to move out on their own to a new place with new opportunities for the three of them. It was a difficult situation, but profoundly satisfying for the two older brothers. All they had to do now was hide their intentions from their father until Sunday to ensure the escape worked.
When Sunday arrived, the moving truck pulled up at noon. Frylock had packed everything from his room, whereas Shake only brought his clothes, his beloved TV, his guitar, and two gaming consoles. Frylock noticed this and raised an eyebrow, seeing that Shake only wanted to bring a few select items to their new house.
Frylock: *“Hey Shake, you don't want to bring anything else? Remember, we are never coming back here.”
Shake: “I’ve got what I need... I want to use this to become a new me.”
Shake then noticed that Frylock was wheeling Matthew’s stroller with Matthew inside. He scowled as he saw baby items being loaded into the truck, and it immediately set off his temper.
Shake: “Are you seriously telling me we’re bringing that thing to our house?”
Frylock replied with a deadpan expression.
Frylock: “Yes. I’m not leaving him alone with our father. I worry about his future.”
Shake stared at him in silent resignation, clearly furious that little Matthew would also be living under his roof.
Shake: “Fine... BUT YOU ARE IN CHARGE OF TAKING CARE OF IT... Just don't ask me to carry it.”
Shake stormed off toward the moving truck. They would be riding along with their belongings since they didn't own a car to get to their new neighborhood. Frylock made the final preparations to lock up the house. He carried a fistful of cash he had stolen from his father to pay for whatever expenses might come up in the near future.
With that, the three of them managed to escape the horrific, maniacal grip of their father, moving to a family suburb in New Jersey, posing now as a family of brothers bound together by tragedy.
That same day, the brothers arrived at their new home. In person, the house looked somewhat dilapidated compared to the picture in the brochure, but the two brothers didn't care much. A man was waiting outside the property—a very elderly, dark-skinned gentleman with curly hair and a slight hunchback. He wore clothing so out-of-time that it made him look like a vampire. He had an intimidating, uninviting, and thoroughly menacing wrinkled face, and he held a black umbrella to shield himself from the sun.
Shake noticed the man’s presence and recoiled, terrified by his horrific, vampire-like appearance. Frylock caught his older brother’s strange behavior and decided to ask.
Frylock: “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”
Shake: “Look at that guy... He looks like a vampire!!” in a terrified whisper.
Frylock: *“He’s not a vampire. He’s our landlord, Mr. Markula.”
Shake: *“His name sounds incredibly vampire-ish.”
Frylock: “Don't generalize.”
Frylock walked slowly toward Markula while cradling Matthew in his arms. Confused and frightened by Markula’s unsettling appearance, Shake decided to follow Frylock to see what would happen.
Markula: “Good afternoon, Mr. Lock...” he droned in a deep, elegant, emotionless voice while pulling out some papers. “I need you to sign this as the final agreement to acquire the property.”
Markula handed a pen to Frylock, and Frylock signed the contract.
Markula: “Keep in mind that there are no refunds during the first few days, and rent must be paid annually... If you fail to do so, you will be forcibly and violently evicted...”
The three family members stared at Markula, deeply confused and startled by his final words, while he simply glared back with his usual bitter expression.
Markula: . . .
Markula: *“That last part was a 'joke.' You were supposed to find it amusing...”
Markula: . . .
Markula: *“But you must pay on time...”
Markula: . . .
Markula: “Enjoy your dwelling.”
Without bidding the brothers goodbye, he walked away after the missing contract was signed. Frylock and Shake watched him leave, thoroughly bewildered.
Shake: *“Well, that was easy...”
Frylock: “Yeah...”
After sharing their confusion, the two brothers proceeded with the move. They unloaded Frylock’s bedroom furniture into his new room. The house was divided into six rooms and a basement; four of those rooms served other purposes, including a kitchen, a living room, a garage, and a small, semi-functional bathroom.
The house was somewhat cozy, even if it was ugly and deteriorating, but to the brothers, it was more than enough to try and make a life there. After arranging all the furniture, they finally breathed a sigh of relief. They had successfully escaped their psychopathic father; they could finally feel safe knowing that man wouldn't try to attack them again. A sense of accomplishment showed on their faces with light smiles of joy and security.
The happiest of all was Shake. His face completely changed, his eyes radiating a strange, bright light. Content, he took off his treasured pink cap—an object he almost always wore—and happily told Frylock:
Shake: *“Finally, free of that screaming old man and his murder attempts.”
Frylock: “Now we just have to worry about bills and survival.”
Frylock noticed Shake pulling out a lighter out of nowhere and asked in confusion:
Frylock: “What are you doing?”
Suddenly, Shake tried to burn his beloved pink cap with the lighter, leaving Frylock baffled by his brother's bizarre action. Shake looked at Frylock with a smile and replied:
Shake: *“Breaking cycles. I want to be someone entirely new now.”
Frylock: “I’d prefer it if you burned that cap outside the house. We don't want any accidents.”
Shake stopped burning the cap and, with a dull look, replied to Frylock:
Shake: “You are so boring.”
The First Birthday
The brothers' first few days in their new home were mostly comfortable, but challenging all the same. They had to take charge of all household needs, made worse by the massive responsibility of raising their baby brother.
This issue frequently caused conflicts and shouting matches between the two. Shake constantly complained about the baby's existence, going so far as to pejoratively nickname him "Meatball" due to the baby’s chubby, red-faced appearance. Frylock, on the other hand, was the only one stepping up to care for his little brother, constantly dealing with Shake's newfound aggressive behavior. Frylock assumed Shake acted out because he was still grieving the tragedies they had endured, so he let it slide.
They survived on part-time jobs they found here and there. It was their only source of income, and with the little money they made, they bought basic necessities and occasionally splurged on luxuries like new furniture or driving courses. One could say they were adapting to their new lifestyle, free from the unpredictable chains of living near a maniacal relative.
Nearly halfway into their first year of living there, little Matthew’s first birthday approached. It was an uncomfortable date for both brothers, as it also marked the first anniversary of their mother’s death—a tragic date both Shake and Frylock were painfully aware of.
They had completely different perspectives on the matter. Frylock wanted to celebrate his little brother’s first birthday, organizing a small party to document it with photographs. Shake, however, was furious about the event, viewing it as completely unnecessary, foolish, and even offensive.
They gathered in the living room, where they had set up a large table. Little Matthew sat in a high chair wearing a party hat, and next to him was a small chocolate muffin with a single candle. He was biting his fist, doing the typical things a baby his age would do. Shake stood beside him, looking at him with utter disgust, thoroughly uncomfortable and angry to be witnessing the first birthday of this thing he had to call his younger brother.
Frylock watched his two brothers while snapping photos with a camera. Noticing Shake's angry face, he questioned him.
Frylock: “Why don't you smile for the camera? We’re about to light the candle.”
Shake glared at Frylock before glancing down at Matthew biting his fist.
Shake: “This party is a total piece of garbage... Why the hell did you give him a damn muffin anyway? You know he can't even eat that yet... It’s technically a complete waste.” he muttered angrily.
Frylock: *“Shake, the muffin is symbolic. It’s important to celebrate this because we are the only ones here for his birthday.”
Shake: *“And why should I care? He’s not even going to remember his own party.”
Frylock: “Honestly, Matthew has to grow up in a completely different reality compared to what we had. He only has us as his family, and it’s important to mark his first birthday.”
Shake looked at Frylock with a mix of pity and concern, reflecting on the fact that, indeed, they were all Matthew had left. He stared in silence.
Shake: . . .
Shake: *“But you're still wasting a perfectly good chocolate muffin.”
Frylock: “Just pose next to the birthday boy,” Frylock said, visibly annoyed and exasperated by Shake’s attitude as he lit the candle on Matthew's muffin.
Shake edged a bit closer to Matthew and forced a hollow smile. Frylock took the photo from a distance. Everything seemed perfect...
Until Shake flipped off the camera for his younger brother's birthday photo, creating the very first memory of their first year in that house. Afterward, Frylock and Shake got into a massive argument over what happened—their first serious fight—while little Matthew played in the background with the crumbs of the recently destroyed muffin.
Following that incident, the family dynamic became increasingly dysfunctional. Most of it stemmed from the things Shake did, like trying to attack "Meatball." Once, Shake dyed his hair white and pink, blowing an entire week's paycheck on it, and he constantly wasted money on useless items. This behavior infuriated Frylock regularly; he always had to deal with whatever new idiocy his "brother" was pulling. There were times he barely recognized his personality; he saw him becoming more erratic, egocentric, and aggressive toward him and everyone else. He thought it might be grief...
But three years went by, and it became clear that this was just who he was.
It was a bizarre transformation. Shake didn't care about getting a job or going to college. The only responsible thing he managed to do was learn to drive, which he did exceptionally well. He frequently suffered from delusions of grandeur and clung to fantastical ideas; at first, Frylock thought he was joking, but it became clear Shake genuinely believed his own fantasies.
By this time, Matthew was three years old. He behaved like any child his age, though he took longer to start talking. He constantly heard the nickname "Meatball" that Shake called him; he heard it so often that he found the word funny, until one random day, he tried to pronounce it.
Matthew: “Mea.. Meat..”
Shake and Frylock were in the living room. Frylock caught the exact moment Matthew tried to speak his first word, watching eagerly as the toddler tried to form a sentence, while Shake sat on the couch watching TV, completely ignoring what was happening.
Frylock: “Shake, look! Matthew is about to say his first word.” Frylock smiled.
Shake, looking entirely disinterested, kept his eyes glued to the screen.
Shake: “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm watching this.”
He remained seated on the couch while Matthew toddled over near the TV, right in Shake’s line of sight, looking up at him happily.
Shake: *“GET OUT OF THE WAY!!”
Matthew: “Meatwad.”
Shake stared at Matthew in silent disappointment.
Shake: “Wow... He’s even terrible at saying his own nickname.”
Matthew tried to hug Shake, but Shake suddenly gave him a light kick, causing Matthew to stumble and burst into tears.
Matthew: “Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”
Shake looked down with complete indifference at his little brother crying on the floor.
Shake: . . .
Frylock immediately walked over, crossing his arms and glaring furiously at Shake. Shake glanced back out of the corner of his eye and, with the same detached expression, muttered:
Shake: *“I didn't do it.”
Frylock: . . .
2005
More arguments followed. Countless fights erupted as the years rolled on. Shake grew increasingly aggressive toward Meatwad, routinely bullying and scaring the poor kid. Frylock constantly intervened, but the behavior was so frequent that sometimes he arrived too late, finding his little brother mistreated by their older brother, which only fueled Frylock's rage at Shake's dangerous behavior.
By the year 2005, a striking dynamic had taken hold of the household. By this time, Frylock was in complete denial about accepting Master Shake as his older brother, preferring to refer to him simply as his "roommate." He even instilled this view in Meatwad, who similarly denied any family relation to Shake. Frylock felt a deep, perpetual embarrassment at having two idiots as his roommates. One he could excuse—he was just a young child—but the other was a completely different story: a literal grown man near his thirties who acted like a teenager. It filled Frylock with rage and shame, though he had learned to live with them, acting as the sole responsible figure of the household in charge of all their needs.
He was the provider, bringing money to the house, and he took charge of Meatwad's homeschooling, proving to be an excellent, if somewhat strict, teacher. He also constantly cleaned up the messes made by Master Shake—a foolish title Shake gave himself after declaring himself the leader of a nonsense team he invented called the "Aqua Teen Hunger Force," an idea he came up with while watching a detective adult movie.
This absurdity triggered the worst and largest conflict the two roommates would ever have, sparked by the purchase of a completely useless object.
Frylock: “What is that noise?!”
Frylock rushed out of his room and found construction workers smashing through part of their front entrance with sledgehammers.
Frylock: “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO THE DOOR?!”
Shake suddenly appeared wearing a yellow construction hardhat and safety goggles, looking ecstatic while holding a massive demolition mallet.
Master Shake: *“Hey Frylock! Do you like the new remodeling we’re doing to the house?”
Frylock: “REMODELING?! Why the hell are you removing the front door?!”
They walked outside the house and saw a door with a bizarre, incredibly awkward shape. It looked like the silhouette of a giant cup with a straw. This sight made Frylock absolutely boil with rage.
Master Shake: “We’re retrofitting the house so we can install this custom door design... It’s super cool, right?”
Frylock stared at the door in stunned silence, his face contorted with immense fury upon realizing what a useless piece of junk Shake had bought.
Frylock: *“You seriously bought a custom novelty door...”
Master Shake: “Yes...” Shake beamed with pride. “It’s awesome. Meatwad helped me design it.”
Meatwad wobbled into view wearing a hardhat and safety goggles, holding a crudely drawn, deformed picture of a cup with hands and a face.
Meatwad: “It looks exactly like the drawing!”
Shake and Meatwad happily looked over at Frylock. He remained furious; to him, it felt like a highly expensive stupidity, the typical kind of nonsense his roommate would pull. He felt enraged, but choosing patience, he slowly retreated to his room.
It was useless to keep fighting with that idiot. The money had been wasted on a piece of junk, and there was nothing he could do about it now. He could only suffer in silence—he was completely on his own in this, and he hated it.
present
Meatwad: “Hey... wake up... wake up... wake up... wake up... wake up wake up wake up wake up.”
Frylock: “WHAT!!!”
Frylock jolted awake, startled, and suddenly looked over at Meatwad. With his vision blurry from not wearing his contact lenses, Frylock looked at him, somewhat annoyed and exhausted, and asked:
Frylock: “What do you want?”
Meatwad: “Shake and I went to buy candy... and I brought you a chocolate bar because I didn't know what kind of candy you’d like to eat.”
He handed the chocolate bar to Frylock, who could feel it was melted from the trip. Trying to stay serious, Frylock analyzed the situation and, with a small smile, accepted the chocolate bar.
Frylock: “Thank you so much for the gesture. I’d just like you to put it in the freezer, it’s a bit soft.”
He handed the chocolate back to Meatwad.
Meatwad: “Yeah, I barely remembered I bought this for you, I just wondered if you were okay.”
Frylock: “Yeah... I just needed some time alone. I was feeling very angry about everything. Maybe I’ll come back out for dinner.”
Frylock: “Maybe around that time I can have the chocolate bar for dessert; by then it should be cold enough to share.”
Meatwad: “Yeah, that would be awesome! So everything is good then... I’m really glad. See you later.”
Frylock: “Yeah, see you at dinner.”
From afar, through his blurry vision, he watched his little brother leave the room. He felt strange and melancholic. Frylock's mind had only brought back those unpleasant memories of the past—memories that had scarred him deeply. He still felt sad and angry at the same time, especially because of the aggressive confrontation he had gone through today trying to defend Meatwad, which ultimately had only brought him more pain.
The only thing he could do was forget and move forward; that was what he had always done his entire life. He decided to lie back down and try to sleep again. The days felt increasingly heavy to him, carrying time limits he simply could not ignore. It was hard to relax under that invisible pressure.
In his mind, small, warm memories surfaced of his two brothers and him acting like a real family. Even though they frequently had those tense moments and arguments, the three of them always found some way to coexist wholesomely within their daily madness. That was just their family dynamic, but all families are different, and this was normal for them.
He thought of his little brother, Meatwad. He had watched him grow throughout his entire life, witnessing each stage of his growth and accompanying him with so much affection, serving as the only father figure Meatwad ever needed or had. The recent memory of yesterday in the parking lot came to him, where Meatwad had worried about being a "nuisance." He knew his little brother constantly worried about his well-being, just as he did for Meatwad; even though the boy was very foolish, naive, and sometimes frustrated him, Meatwad was the more empathetic one.
In contrast to Shake, who had always been a fiercely egocentric, arrogant jerk—though Frylock remembered well something Shake had said the previous night while talking to himself in the living room: “The truth is, you need it as soon as possible, before your system destroys you from the inside... I don't want to lose someone again.”
Deep down, Shake cared about him immensely. It made sense given their history. Frylock was the only family Shake truly had, the only one who had always stood by him, and without him, Shake would be left entirely alone with Meatwad.
Both of them worried about him, and that made Frylock reflect. We only have the three of us as a family. That thought made a tear of deep sorrow fall from the man's eyes, and he chose to cherish the small, healthy memories with his two brothers. Perhaps because they were the only family he had left, he decided to fall back asleep, trying to dream of something more positive.
At night in the Weird household during dinner time, only Meatwad and Shake were in the kitchen. Driven by hunger, they prepared the instant tacos that were in the refrigerator. The atmosphere in the living room felt empty and quiet, save for the noise coming from the television. They sat on the living room couches watching a movie on TV. It felt strange to them that no one else had come down for dinner—not even their father—and it left the two brothers confused.
Meatwad: “Hey... is it normal that nobody comes to dinner in this house?”
Shake turned to look at Meatwad and, with an expression of pure indifference, told him:
Master Shake: “I think so...”
Suddenly, they noticed the living room exit door swinging wide open, startling both brothers until they realized the person walking in was just their father's assistant, Steve.
Steve: “Sorry to bother you... I just came to clock out of my shift.”
He said it in a somewhat frightened tone as he went to log his hours on the mechanical time clock located near the living room. Immediately after, he turned around and left the room, while Shake and Meatwad watched him in absolute silence and confusion, as he was the last person they expected to see.
Master Shake: . . .
Master Shake: “How awkward.”
Meatwad: “Definitely, yeah.”
They heard soft footsteps approaching. The two brothers turned and saw Frylock walking into the kitchen. Meatwad grew excited at the sight of him. Frylock gradually approached them in the living room, wearing a slightly sad but resolute expression.
Frylock: “Good evening... I’m sorry for acting like a jerk to the two of you.”
The two brothers stared intently at Frylock. His expression was serious, but after a moment, he smiled at them with a warm look on his face, showing he accepted his own apology.
Master Shake: “It’s about time... We had already forgiven you anyway.”
Frylock let out a faint, reassured smile upon hearing that, and with a serious yet somewhat cheerful voice, he asked:
Frylock: “Great... so what’s for dinner?”
Following that, the three of them sat together for dinner, sharing a wholesome moment as brothers, eating their tacos and splitting the chocolate bar, which served as a sort of symbolic apology. The night passed peacefully for the three of them, regardless of the stormy weather outside or the presence of their father, who appeared later in the evening. It was a family night just for the three of them, the kind they rarely ever had in their true home.
TO BE CONTINUED