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Peppino's day usually started with a good wash of his face and hands, rubbing the cool liquid into his skin to revitalize himself after a long and dry night. He kept his head down as he leaned over the bathroom sink, watching the water cascade over his fingers and wash away any lingering flour or stiffened dough. Once they were sufficiently drenched and dripping, he resisted the urge to shake them off, instead reaching for a large wad of paper towels to lick away any excess water on his skin.
He had turned away from the mirror while doing this, however in his peripheral vision, he thought he saw something weird in his reflection. His eye twitched strangely, as if it had a mind of its own, and something didn’t look… Quite right about his face.
He had a double-take, whipping around in shock, dropping the wad of paper towels which fell with a messy plop. Peppino looked on in horror when he saw his own reflection: a misshapen face with one eye sunken in, and the other leaning out of its socket as if it had someplace to be. His skin was ghostly pale and dripping from more than just the water he rubbed into it earlier. His head was entirely the wrong shape, squatter and rounder than it should have been. Even his nose was wrong, being much too long. The more he looked at his reflection, the worse and more uncanny it got. He felt like he was looking at… A monster! With a scream, he instinctively punched the mirror, shattering it instantly and lodging small bits of glass into his knuckles. A dark ooze leaked from the cuts. His stomach churned upon seeing it.
His right arm sang in pain as he leaned against the wall, the fingers of his left hand running gingerly over the broken glass, as if he dared them to get cut, as well. He tried to swallow air, his lungs having a hard time filling themselves, as if his throat had constricted itself.
That was right… He had forgotten once again.
He wasn't Peppino. His name was Peppy, and he was nothing more than a clone of a true Italian chef.
… Why was it this easy to forget? How cruel…
He buried his face in his hands, knuckles still throbbing, muffling the wails that erupted from his throat. His voice distorted, echoing off of the bathroom walls. He fell to his knees, landing with a loud squelch.
He had spent so much time with Peppino that he had totally forgotten what he really looked like. The face of his original had replaced his own in his mind’s eye, and he had become convinced that he looked like the real deal. But, of course, that couldn't be further from the truth. Without realizing it, he had grown adverse to looking at mirrors, knowing in the back of his mind that the truth would reflect back at him. For three months he had existed in peace, living in a world where there were two Peppino Spaghettis, and all was fine.
But a joy like that couldn’t last… As much as he wished it could. The truth always caught up with him.
His insides felt like boiling lava, and Peppy's fingertips had lodged themselves into the base of his neck, around his shoulders. Digging into his doughy flesh, he tried to rip his head from his body, ignoring the pain that was now rocketing through him. He hadn't done it in so long that his flesh actually held fast, resisting the pull as every fiber of his being tried to convince him to stop. But he didn’t, and his neck yielded to a mighty yank, and for the first time since he had left the tower, Peppy's internals were exposed to the open air. He threw his cranium on the ground with a meaty slap.
He stared at his discarded face with contempt, bunching his shirts into his fists. His body continued to tremble violently, his vision warping and having trouble focusing. He hated that face. He didn't understand why he couldn't have possibly looked more like Peppino. Why was it, that even as the most stable clone that Pizzaface had made, he still looked like a total reject?
Furious hands flew to grab the head, powerful fingers attempting to reshape it into a preferable form. He stretched out the jaw, trying to make the chin more shapely. He tried to shrink the eye sockets, and adjust the nose, however the face defiantly sprung back into shape, like rubber. Although he had mastered the art of kneading dough, be it another clone or from scratch, it seemed as though his own body wasn't as cooperative. His fingers dug into it, trying to smash and squash it into something unrecognizable, but once again, it returned to its original shape. It almost looked as though it were smiling at him, taunting him.
He threw it against the wall, screeching in rage. He wanted to do more, cause more destruction, but a knock at the door made Peppy fall stock still and utterly silent. Goosebumps formed on his arms, prickling his skin.
“Peppy?” Peppino's voice came through, a twinge of concern in his tone, “Are you alright in there…?”
Tugging at his collar, Peppy didn't know what to do. He groaned and hissed, unable to form words without his mouth to shape them. But he didn't want to pick up his face again, even if it meant he couldn’t talk. Using that boombox all the time was just as much of a hassle, anyway. Leaving it discarded on the ground, he sprung to his feet and charged through the door, nearly knocking it off his hinges and bowling Peppino over. The chef cried out in shock and bristled as he regained his balance, and watched the clone scramble up the opposite wall and squeeze his way into the vent.
“ Hey! ” Peppino shouted after him, “I told you not to go in there! Get outta the vent!” he placed his hands on his hips and stared at Peppy’s hiding place, a frown etched into his features. When the clone didn’t so much as peer out of the hole, Peppino felt a pang of guilt hit his chest; these days, Peppy only hid in the vents when he wasn't feeling well. He had only heard the once screech, but he should have known better.
Peppino grabbed a step ladder and leaned it against the wall, climbing up so he could peer inside. It was nothing but a black abyss within, but he could make out Peppy's reflective eyes far back in the darkness.
“Are you okay…?” he asked again. He nearly stumbled off of the stool when Peppy growled in response, the low and aggressive rumble reverberating off of the metal walls.
He was clearly very touchy.
“Alright, alright,” the chef wheezed, “I'll leave you alone to cool off.” he tugged at his collar nervously, the color flushed from his face.
He stepped down and rubbed his hands together, inhaling through his teeth. As much as he had gotten used to Peppy in the past few months, he'd be lying if he said that the clone didn't still scare him now and again. He carefully approached the bathroom, wondering what on earth could have upset him so much…
Peppino’s eyes first fell upon the broken mirror, and he clutched the cloth around his chest when the implication dawned on him. He always had a feeling that his duplicate wasn’t happy with his face, but why only now did he have a violent reaction to it? His stomach then did a somersault when his eyes drifted to the floor, and found Peppy's head lying forlorn and forgotten. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his breakfast in check. He felt a prickling sensation around the base of his neck, and he subconsciously rubbed the back of it, sweat now dripping from his brow.
Yikes.
Peppino hastily closed the door, allowing himself a strained scream. He furiously dried his face with a handkerchief, then scratched at his scalp. He really did think that Peppy had gotten better since he started working at the pizzeria; he had calmed down, did his work with a wink and a whistle, and was acting less uncanny and more human each and every day… Of course, that did nothing for the state of his body, but he at least seemed to be happy, and a lot less drippy. It didn't take much for Peppino to put two and two together: Peppy was still frustrated that he was a clone.
Peppino would feel the same way if he was in the same position. But even knowing the issue, he still didn’t know what to do. This wasn't something that you could simply console away… Hands behind his back, he paced around the lobby for a little while, every now and again looking up to the vent. The least he could do is allow Peppy to calm before trying again… And maybe he could call someone in the meantime, someone that Peppy was close to and he could play with, or be distracted by. Then that could give Peppino more time to think of a way to help him feel better about himself.
The Italian couldn't help but sigh, realizing that one of Peppy's closest friends was Noisette. Although Peppino didn't mind her , it was her loud boyfriend that caused problems. And calling up the pink-clad gal meant that he may also have to interact with the Noise…
He had to do it for Peppy.
Mustering up the energy (and a little bit of courage), Peppino rang up the Noise residence. He deflated significantly when a very disgruntled-sounding Noise was the one to pick up the phone.
“ What. ”
“Noise, could I please speak to Noisette?” Peppino groaned.
The Noise’s voice burst through the receiver with a guffaw, “Pizza guy?! Is that you?! What are you calling ME for? You forget how to make pizzas, or something? You get so desperate that you call a guy that doesn't even eat pizza? Run out of ideas, need new toppings?”
“Noisette, please .”
“You want to be on TV, pizza guy? Start your own show? The Rapscallion Italian™ –I'd have to workshop the title a bit more–but if you want a show, I'm sure as heck not going to help you make it! We have no room at the studio–definitely not a kitchen space made just for YOU!”
The Noise’s voice faded away as the phone was pulled out of his hand, however Peppino could still hear him rambling inane nonsense about television, and throwing insults into the air. Finally, Noisette spoke into the receiver.
“Hiya, pizza guy!” she hummed, “I really oughta give you my cell phone number, I don't think we're going to hear the end of this from Theodore!”
Peppino rubbed his forehead, grunting lightly, “Yeah, I know… I'm sorry. Listen, could you come over and help with Peppy, please?”
“Whatever for?”
“He's having a meltdown today… it's worse than normal.”
“Well, I'm really busy today…” he could hear Noisette lean away from the phone, as if looking at something, “And you really, really need to learn how to work with him better, anyway!” there was the sound of shuffling papers.
Peppino looked to the vent, drumming his fingers against the counter, “I have, I promise! But… I mean, it's really bad today. He's holding himself up in the vent again…”
“Oh, he IS in trouble…” Noisette sounded concerned, “Well, I can come later this afternoon!”
Sighing with relief, Peppino placed a hand to his chest, “Oh, thank you! I’ll make you a pizza for your troubles!”
“Oh!! My morning just cleared up all of the sudden!” the woman chirped, “I'll be there in thirty minutes!” she immediately hung up, leaving the poor Italian to the dial tone.
Still holding the phone to his face, he blinked a few times. Did he just accidentally bribe her…?
Well, nothing could be done but to do it. Peppino clapped his hands together and made way for the kitchen, but stopped in the entrance to look at the vent.
“Peppy!” he called loudly, “I'm gonna make a pizza!” He waited a second for a response, but when he didn't get one he continued, “Do you want to help?”
The only thing he could hear was a low grumble, and shuffling from within the vents. He waited a moment longer, hoping that Peppy would at least peek outside, but no such luck. Hands falling to his sides, Peppino slumped and plodded into the kitchen. Usually that worked a treat.
Peppy balled his hands into fists, his entire body tensing. Yes, of course he wanted to help! But there was no way he could help like this… He would have grit his teeth if he still had them. He squeezed his way through the vents, slinking around on his belly and using his hands and feet to propel him forward. Now in the kitchen vent, he peered through the grate and watched Peppino work his magic.
He grabbed some premade dough and started to work on it, Peppy mimicking the motions from within the darkness. The clone’s stomach twisted, knowing that he could be the one working that dough right now… But he stubbornly stuck in place.
By the size of the crust, it was going to be a personal pie, just big enough for Noisette to enjoy. Peppino added the sauce, then a layer of pepperoni, a layer of cheese, and a second layer of pepperoni to top it off. It didn't take very long, and it was soon baking in the oven, the delicious aroma filling the pizzeria. Peppy sighed, feeling a bit of regret. There wasn’t much to do, but maybe he really should have helped… His hands twitched as they itched to make something as well.
After fifteen minutes, the small pizza was finished and pulled out of the oven. Almost as if she had been summoned by its completion, there was a knock at the front door, followed by the muffled sound of Noisette calling inside.
“Pizza guy? You in there? The front door is locked!” she knocked again, “Haven't you opened, yet?”
Hastily throwing the pizza into a box, Peppino scrambled into the lobby with Peppy following suit inside the vent. He unlocked the door and greeted the pink-clad girl, who promptly let herself inside.
“I don't open until eleven, actually,” Peppino replied, giving her a side-eye.
Noisette was in a more casual outfit than usual, with her hair down and covering her ears. She wore a simple white blouse and a plaid pink skirt, which had a fluffy bunny tail sticking out the back of it. She also had a matching pink beret with tall pink ears, likely added to go with her tail. Over her shoulder, she slung a comically large tote bag with a very loud hot pink cow print pattern on it. The bag was bigger than she was, and presumably filled with board games and other activities for her and Peppy to do together.
“That makes sense! You open for the lunch rush!” she chirped, “I’m a little jealous, I open at eight, and studio work starts as early as nine! It's any wonder that Theodore can wake up that early, but I’ve got plenty of coffee to keep him going!” She moved over to an empty table and sat the bag on it, nearly toppling it from the weight, “Of course, I only keep the cafe open a few hours a day before I’m back to the studio! So I’m real busy!” she giggled.
“You sure I’m not cutting into your business hours?” Peppino questioned nervously. He followed her to the table, still holding the box.
“Like I said, my morning cleared up! I can work later, people can survive an hour without coffee!” Her eyes fell upon the pizza box, and she greedily held her hands open. Once he handed it over, she tore open the box and rolled the pizza into a tight curl, taking a massive bite out of it as if it were a burrito. She hummed in delight.
“This could have waited until later this afternoon…” Peppino noted.
“I’m killing two birds with one stone,” Noisette shrugged with a grin, “I’m getting my breakfast, and helping out a friend!” she grabbed a wad of napkins and cleaned the grease off her hands and lips.
“... Sure.”
“Anyway, where’s Peppy?” she looked up to the open vent, hands on her hips. She pointed at it, “That one, right?”
"Should be, unless he's climbed deeper into the pizzeria," I sure hope he hasn't , Peppino added to himself.
Climbing up the step ladder, Noisette had to stand up on her toes to peer inside. She squinted into the darkness, but threw a smile into the vent, whether or not Peppy could see her.
"Hey, buddy,” she called in a friendly way, “You wanna come out?"
Her smile faltered when Peppy growled in reply, creating a loud rumble from within. She placed a hand to her cheek and decided to step down.
"I haven't seen him like this since he moved in!" her ears seem to droop, and she fiddled with the hem of her skirt, "He is pretty bad, no wonder you called me! I'm not sure how much I can do, though…"
"Well, thanks for trying, anyway," Peppino sighed. He felt relieved just having someone here with him, especially if Noisette was going to take it seriously. In the short time he knew her, he didn’t think he ever saw her stop smiling once!
"Let's start with where the meltdown began! Do you have any ideas?"
“Definitely.” Peppino motioned for her to follow, leading her to the bathroom, “I think it's pretty self-explanatory…” he reported, opening the door to reveal the mess that Peppy had left behind.
Noisette gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. She had first noticed that discarded head, but then shook her head somberly when she saw the broken mirror, “Poor guy…” she whispered.
“He seemed to be doing just fine until this morning,” Peppino explained, making way to sit down at a nearby table, “Maybe he was hiding something…” Although he wore his frustrations on his sleeve, Peppino often found that he bottled his worries and fears up… Maybe Peppy was much the same, considering how similar they were. He slumped into the chair, propping his elbow against the table and resting his chin in his hand.
Joining him, Noisette grabbed her tote and tossed it onto the ground beside her selected chair with a mighty thump. She leaned over the table, propping both of her elbows over it. She rocked her head from side to side in her hands thoughtfully.
“I guess we'll have to wait for him to cool down!” she pondered, “Maybe I should have come later this afternoon…” she added slightly lower, “He could have been calmer by then.”
“At least you got your pizza breakfast,” Peppino chuckled.
“It was really tasty, too! Thanks!” Noisette chirped, perking back up, “I don’t care what Theodore says, your pizzas are the best! Did Peppy help make it?”
“No, I just used some of his premade dough.”
“Aw… Oh! Are John and Gerome around?”
“Ah, they rebuilt enough of the tower last week, and they moved back in.”
“That’s great! I wish they told me, I would LOVE to throw a housewarming party for them!”
“We’ve thought about that, I’m sure they’d appreciate the help.”
“Planning parties is a blast! Oh, I’d have to figure out an alcohol plan for Theo, I don’t want him drinking too much…” she trailed off, knocking her knuckles against the table in thought, and biting her lower lip. She bounced back into her normal demeanor quickly as she continued, “You know, I should ask! How have you felt about Peppy recently?’
Peppino scratched the side of his head, finding Noisette a little hard to keep up with, “Pretty good, I suppose.”
“Any problems? He still scaring you?”
“Well, of course he’s still scaring me,” Peppino grinned and chuckled awkwardly, “But I still jump to the ceiling whenever the phone rings, so I think that says more about me than it does about him!” the Italian scratched his chin, “But, otherwise, he’s been pretty good company… And helpful around the kitchen; he’s a great cook, and he takes care of any vermin that gets in… Productivity has gone up, and I might be catching up on bills soon.”
Noisette started kicking her legs under the table, grinning from ear to ear, “You two are like peas in a pod!” she giggled, “Sounds like you've been real busy. Feels like we all got our acts together after being in the tower, in a way!”
“No kidding… Aren't you busy, too? Running two jobs between the TV station and your cafe?” Peppino’s brow creased, “Hope you’re not running yourself too thin.” He was all too familiar with spreading too thin; running a pizzeria on his own was a trick and a half, between baking and delivering.
“Oh, that’s nothing for someone with as much energy as me!” she fanned one hand dismissively in the air, “It keeps me on my toes, lets me talk to so, SO many people, and it gives me a break from Theo now and again,” she rambled merrily, “I love the guy, but whenever he gets on something, boy does he get on it! He just won’t shut up–but I guess that’s what makes us a perfect match!” she sat up, “You know, you really oughta take him up on that TV show offer!”
Peppino blinked, “That was an offer?”
“Of course! Theo just has a weird way of saying things, if you’ve known him as long as me, you start picking up on it!” Noisette hummed, “He hasn't stopped talking about it since he got the idea, and he keeps acting like we’ve already got the show started!” she started counting on one hand, “Script ideas, supplies, and cutlery, lots and lots of cutlery. I have to say, it’s nice to see him obsessed over a prop that isn’t an explosive!” she laughed heartily.
Straining a smile, Peppino wheezed lightly. Frankly, he didn’t feel so sure about working with the Noise of all people, especially if he were to be a character on the show. He was certain that whatever he cooked would either explode all over his face, or be some strange, horrific concoction that either the Noise or Noisette threw together for a bit, or otherwise. Not to mention, he didn’t know how he felt about being on TV. Hot lights, countless rehearsals, thousands of eyes on you… It made his skin crawl.
“I'll… Uh… Think about it.” he smacked the side of his fist on the table, biting his lip. He should have said no.
“Good! Keep in touch!” Noisette’s own smile seemed to fall when she noticed that Peppino was straining his. Regardless, she didn’t miss a beat, “With Peppy around, you'd have more time to dedicate to doing something on the side, like a TV show! And it’s not like it’d be an unpaid gig–we’re a real studio now, you know!” she leaned forward, a slight crease forming in her brow, “You… Are planning on keeping him around, aren't you? ”
Peppino's shoulders tensed, really starting to feel the pressure. He cleared his throat, “I did think about sending him away at some point,” he stared the ground for a little while, drumming his fingers against the table, “Honestly, I’ve been having second thoughts, and any time I think about it, I keep putting it off. I've gotten used to him, and he is pretty skilled, but…”
He trailed off to stare at the vent. Eventually, he shook his head, “I don't know. If he's comparing himself to me all the time, maybe it's not very healthy for him to stay.” he slid further into his chair, feet sticking out across the floor, “Maybe I should have him leave, start his own pizzeria, or something. Heaven knows he'd be successful.”
Just then, a moan erupted from the vent, followed by sloshing and panicked shuffling sounds. Peppy dragged himself out and smacked the ground with a plop, grunting and groaning as if he were trying to say something. Peppino tensed, and Noisette’s eyes widened when they saw Peppy’s appearance; his brain and eyes completely exposed to open air, and his ragged body language. The brain wobbled as he rose to his feet.
Peppy shook his “head” furiously, using his hands to attempt to convey what he wanted. Peppino could only stare at him, completely dumbfounded by the array of sounds he made without a mouth. The portly Italian felt a deep itch just beneath his scalp, which got worse the longer he stared at Peppy’s brain… But he resisted scratching it as he stood, attempting to placate the panicking clone by raising his hands in the air gently.
“Hey, hey! Whoa! Calm down there!” he started to speak in Italian, “No need to hurt yourself, just breathe!”
This did little to help Peppy, who was now tugging at his shirt collar, tears showering from his eyes, which bobbed about with every movement he made.
“Are you scared that I'm gonna send you away?” Peppino asked. When Peppy nodded, Peppino lowered his hands. He swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling a pang of guilt, “I'm not–I just thought–'' gripping his hands together, he bit his lower lip. His eyes drifted to the bathroom door, and he gently placed his hands on Peppy's arms, “Just wait a moment, will you?” he whispered in Italian. Peppy seemed to oblige, yanking on his tank top straps and planting his feet in place.
Entering the bathroom, he went to pick up Peppy's discarded head. Goosebumps charged down his arms, and a chill struck his spine as he lifted the doughy dome into his hands. He grit his teeth and kept his eyes forward, holding it away from his body in a way that was indicative of how he felt about it… But he muscled through the feeling and returned to Peppy.
“Please, put this back on.”
Peppy eyed the head with scorn, and he couldn't help but growl. He didn't want that. He turned away, but Peppino persisted.
“ Please , Peppy,” he held the head closer to the clone “I want to be able to talk this out with you.”
After a moment's hesitation, Peppy finally gave in and took it into his hands, still eyeing it with disdain. With slow movements, he fixed it back onto his neck with a squelch, his skin rapidly fusing with itself. He fussed with his eyes for a bit, trying to get the drooping eye to fit into its socket, but quickly got fed up with trying. Peppino couldn't help but lower his gaze while the clone did this, feeling another strange pain nip at his neck.
Peppy couldn't lift his eyes from the floor, and he wrung his hands together nervously, ”…ssssslp …lP …nnnnhhT“ he seemed to struggle with forming words, his mouth having a hard time catching up with the rest of his body. He licked his lips a few times, and rubbed his cheeks.
“Take your time,” Peppino urged, “Why don't you sit down?”
Peppy obliged, falling weightily onto a chair, his lengthy arms and legs splayed out on the floor. He continued to refuse to look either Peppino or Noisette in the face, his expression distraught.
After a few more minutes of silence, Peppy attempted to break it, but found it difficult to find his words, ”…detartsurF …F“ his face twisted, and he opened and closed his fists a few times, ”…hmmM …hhffF“
Peppino spoke up, his voice cracking, “Are… You frustrated with me?”
Jolting, Peppy looked up at him with distress, and shook his head, ”!oN“ he cried, ”!!on ,oN“ he covered his face with his hands, ”!thgir kool t'nod I taht tespu m'I !uoy ton m'I taht tegrof I taht yrgna m'I !flesym ta detartsurf m'I“ He curled up into a ball, drawing his knees to his chest. His fingers dug into his face.
Peppino opened his mouth to speak, but paused, not really sure what to say. He felt a massive weight on his shoulders. Peppy didn’t ask to be like this. It almost seemed as though he were predisposed to frustration…
“You don't have to look like me…” Peppino whispered.
”!od I seY“ Peppy snapped, ”!uoy fo ffo desab si ecnetsixe elohw yM“ he slammed a fist on the table, making it shake. His face was contorted in an uncanny way, rage exuding off of his body, ”,uoy naht REHTO eb nac I eno on s’erehT“ he roared, ”!thgir TAHT od neve t’nac I tuB“ he grabbed his hat and threw it on the ground.
A shock passed through Peppino’s body, his limbs turning ice cold, “You don't–” he trailed off, his voice low. He started twiddling his thumbs, staring at the discarded hat.
It would be easier if Peppy could simply forge a new identity for himself. But something like that didn’t simply come to you, not within a few months. Not if you’re programmed to think you’re someone you’re not. Not if your passions aligned exactly with the person you were made to replace.
The cries that Peppy made were wrenching, and out of the corner of his eye, Peppino could see him tugging at his face, trying to pull it apart, or reshape it. Jumping, Peppino grabbed the clone’s arms, telling him to not hurt himself in Italian. Peppy merely screwed one eye shut, bearing his teeth in a painful and strained sob.
This whole affair made Peppino feel sick to his stomach. What an awful thing Pizzaface did…
”!yawa em dnes t'nod esaelp tuB“ Peppy screamed between sobs, ”!od ot esle tahw wonk t'nod I“ he wheezed, pulling Peppino closer to himself, ”!ereh emoh ta os leef I dnA“ he twisted his arms around in a way that he could hold onto the chef’s hands, desperately seeking comfort.
Peppino slowly shook his head, “I won't send you away,” he promised, “I only thought…” he paused, tightening his grip on the clone’s hands, “I only thought that if you didn't have me to compare yourself to, you'd be better off…” he muttered something in Italian to himself, trying to find his words, “I don’t want you to compare yourself to me… You can make your own identity, or…” he put on a grin, laughing lightly, “Tell yourself you’re the better Peppino, if you’d like. Whatever you want to do… You can take your time.”
There was a lull in Peppy’s sobs, his shoulders still shaking as he stared at his original, completely dumbfounded. He knew that. He didn’t have to be Peppino, and he'd known that for months. But he didn't know how to be anyone else. And he knew better than to tell himself that he was the superior, the original. He was too broken. Too messy. He frowned and pulled his arms out of Peppino’s hands, wrapping them around his legs and body. As much as he wished there was one, there really was no easy answer to this.
“That doesn't help, does it…?”
Peppy buried his face into his knees. He wanted it to help… But it really didn’t.
What to do… Peppino observed his clone hug himself, biting at his fingernails, which had finally started growing back in, but only just so. He then thought about how many times Peppy would give him a hug whenever he was feeling distressed. Although Peppino never really thought of himself as much of a hugger, he realized that he actually greatly appreciated the physical contact. It grounded him, pulled him out of his thoughts, and was shockingly comforting. Not to mention, Peppy was quite the skilled hugger. If the doppelganger did that to try and console others, Peppino could only imagine that it was how he wanted to be consoled, as well. Carefully rising to his feet, he approached Peppy, then gently wrapped his burly arms around his trembling, gooey form.
Peppy stiffened at first, but soon leaned into the hug, unfurling himself to wrap his own arms around the other. He pushed his face into Peppino's neck and shoulder, practically melting overtop him. It took a few minutes, but his trembling slowly faded away, and his crying stopped.
Having finally fallen still, Peppy seemed satisfied and pulled away, a weak smile spreading across his lips. Peppino held his hands on his shoulders for a little while longer, giving him a reassuring pat.
“We'll figure it out,” he whispered. He picked up the discarded hat, and handed it back to Peppy, who took it and nodded silently.
That was when Peppino noticed the shockingly elated expression on Noisette's face. She had fallen so quiet, he almost completely forgot that she was there. Her eyes were practically glittering, and he gave her a quizzical look.
“The heck are you smiling about??”
“You understood him! Without the boombox!!” she exclaimed with a squeak, fanning her hands in the air, “And without my help, too!! You two are just like brothers! That's! So! Cute!! ”
Blinking rapidly, Peppino continued to stare at Noisette, his face growing more confused by the second. He then turned to Peppy, who was equally befuddled, his jaw hanging open. The clone put a finger to his mouth.
”?em dootsrednu …uoY“ he questioned in shock. He couldn’t quite believe it himself, but…
Peppino was stuck in silence for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. He chuckled low, then ran a hand through his hair, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did!”
Making a delighted sound, Peppino sprung from one foot to the other, and then wrapped his arms around Peppino again, squeezing him tight. Unable to contain his excitement, he ran a lap around the lobby, throwing his arms into the air.
”!em dootsrednu eH“ he whooped, ”!!srehtorb ekil er'eW“
Happy to watch Peppy sprint around the room and ceiling, Peppino threw a genuine smile over to Noisette, “Thanks for the help.”
“I didn't do anything!” she piped, bobbing her head from side to side, “That was all you , pizza guy!”
Peppy made it back to the table, nearly knocking it over as he screeched to a halt. Hands gripping the opposite edge, he excitedly asked, ”?emag a rof emit evah uoy oD !ettesioN“
She pulled out an oversized pocket watch, seemingly from her skirt pocket, “Looks like I’ve got at least a half hour before I have to skedaddle! How about a game of Uno?” she reached into her tote, digging around for the card game.
Peppy looked to Peppino expectantly, ”?oot ,yalp ot tnaw uoy oD“
With an awkward smile, Peppino sat himself back down, “Yeah, sure, I love a dose of rage before starting work.” the comment was dry, but he was willing to participate.
They managed to squeeze in a full game before Noisette had to leave, with Peppino losing quite brutally to the card prowess of both Noisette and Peppy. Noisette left the victor, looking quite chuffed about it. While he didn't get as angry as he expected, Peppino did feel a little bit hot in the face after that. All the same, Peppy seemed to be quite pleased, and although there was still a somber glint in his eye, he had certainly calmed down significantly.
Noisette left in a rush, leaving her tote behind, saying that she'll pick it up later. As she waved goodbye, she reminded Peppino about the TV show, claimed she'd relay the news of him "thinking about it" to the Noise, and wished the both of them luck. As she pulled a skateboard from nowhere and boarded away, she invited them to use anything they found in the tote, her loud voice fading into the distance.
Peppino sat back in his chair, huffing a little. Now that she was gone, he realized in the stark silence that his ears were ringing more than usual… But he felt some pressure relieve itself from his chest.
He stared at the clock, contemplating what they should do next. The obvious answer was to begin prep work for the day, however he wasn't sure if he was ready to start work just yet. He turned to Peppy, who was shuffling the cards together, practicing his technique. He was quite focused, despite his loose eye lolling about, and croaked pleasantly when they folded together properly. He seemed proud of himself, and started shuffling the cards again.
“Hey,” Peppino said, “You wanna hang around until we get a call?” Peppy grinned at the idea, “Alright.” the chef stood and started to dig around in Noisette's tote, “What would you like to do?”
Peppy scratched his chin, ”,ward ot tnaw fo dnik I“ he admitted.
“Oh, I haven't drawn anything in a long time…” Peppino mused. As if it were waiting for him, he promptly found a pad of paper and a box full of art supplies at the top of the bag.
Not bothering to question it, he pulled them out and set them on the table. Observing the array of supplies, the chef wondered if he should draw as well, or not… He may as well participate with Peppy, who had already ripped a few sheets of paper out of the pad for himself. In no time at all, the supplies were scattered across the table: colorful markers, crayons and pencils, as well as a few pens.
Peppino could recall a time when he drew frequently, but that was well before his life became a rip-roaring roller coaster. As he lifted a pencil into his hand, there was a certain relief that it brought to him, one that he hadn’t felt in ages. He really liked drawing when he was younger, doodling whatever came to mind in the moment. But now that he was presented the opportunity again, he drew a blank.
“What should I draw?” he asked.
”!snippoT“
“Yeah, alright. What are you going to draw?”
Peppy grinned from ear to ear, ”!kcirB“
The pair spent the next hour drawing in silence, making quite the mess of art supplies across the table. Although his outward appearance seemed to be without a care in the world, Peppy was deep in thought as he scratched his pencil over the paper. He was thinking about what Noisette had said earlier… That he and Peppino were like brothers. It was a nice sentiment, and it got his mind working.
What if he pretended that they were brothers? It could possibly help him stop comparing himself to Peppino so much. He knew it wasn’t really the truth, and that often gave him more pause than he wanted. The truth was blinding, even gut-wrenching. He couldn’t ignore it, but what if he managed, just this once?
Lowering himself closer to the page, he mumbled for a bit, before he managed to raise his voice, ”…ot dedneterp ew fi tahW …onippeP“ he huffed, feeling great anxiety, ”?srehtorb eB“
“Huh,” the chef started, “You know, that’s not a bad idea…” he threw a smile across the table, “Would that help?”
”.ebyaM ...“
“Then let’s give it a try.” reaching for the markers, Peppino couldn’t help but chuckle, “It’d make explaining you a little easier, I suppose!”
After a few more minutes of drawing, Peppy was the first to present his piece. Although the lines were a bit wobbly, the drawing was far from unskilled. The shading was well done, and he managed to get the detail of Brick’s fur looking smooth. He seemed to have a good memory, as he got all of the rat’s details just right.
“Oh! Nice work,” Peppino hummed.
Peppy gurgled a pleasant sound, and turned his attention to what Peppino was working on. He had drawn out all of the Toppins from memory, so the details were slightly off, and he was only halfway through coloring the tomato. But, they were still well-drawn, and cutely stylized. Pointing a finger to the mushroom, Peppy took extreme care to not touch Peppinos drawing.
”!doog yllaer skool tahT“
“Mm, thanks,” Peppino continued to color in the tomato, “You know, I designed the sign outside. I haven't drawn much since, though.”
Peppy cooed, finding that fact interesting.
Fifteen or so minutes later, both of them jumped when the phone rang. Setting his drawing utensils aside, Peppino went to answer it.
“Well, looks like the games are over,” just before he picked up the phone, he gave Peppy a grin, “But now the fun is just about to begin, right?”
Eager to start fresh, Peppy nodded and rushed into the kitchen to work on his dough, ”!thgiR“