Chapter Text
Zak Gramarye could barely see through the flurry of brightly-colored confetti that rained from above him, but he knew he had an audience because they were wildly cheering and clapping for him. A man in a suit and an obnoxiously yellow bow-tie approached Zak, shouting phrases like "Toddler-Punching World Champion" and "236 toddlers punched in ten minutes" into a microphone headset with his radio announcer-like voice. The announcer held up a gold medal attached to a long neck band and put it around Zak's neck. The cheering only grew louder as the announcer grabbed one of Zak's wrists and lifted it up in the air triumphantly.
Despite his accomplishment, however, Zak found himself unhappy, unable to share the enthusiasm of his audience and bask in the glory of his victory.
Because it was only then that Zak Gramarye realized that, no matter how hard he tried and no matter how many toddlers he punched, he would never again be able to recreate the experience of punching his own eight year old daughter in the feelings.