Chapter Text

Beach Day

A story where a simple outing to the beach gets chaotically complicated

Question of the day: How stressful would it be to organize an hour drive to the beach without any complications?

By the start of the Morales’ morning, the answer appeared to be not stressful at all. And by God, Miles was gonna keep it that way.

He knew his family’s beach day record was undoubtedly a string of many stressful factors. The nerve-wracking preparation, the annoying traffic, and the lessening patience Miles and his parents would have for the pranks that his siblings often pulled.

Beach days were chaotic. So chaotic that even when it came to the most peaceful part, the beach, the sheer amount of irritation from the parts before it tainted the experience for everyone.

And being the perfectionist he is and also being sick of the shenanigans that were bound to happen again, Miles took it upon himself to make sure beach day was a success. And maybe, just maybe, everything will be alright.

What could go wrong?

———

6:00 am

The first thing each of the three Mileses heard was the sound of a blaring alarm.

Little Miles was the first person to stir, whining into his pillow.

“Shhhhh!” he muttered in his sleep.

Meanwhile in the bedroom where the twins bunked, Miles twisted around uncomfortably in an attempt to block out the noise, determined to sleep as long as possible.

Until his attempts were thwarted by a pillow thrown down at him from the top bunk.

“Can you shut your dumbass up?!” A tired Miles-42 growled.

Annoyed, Miles opened his dark-circled eyes. “That isn’t me! I’m trying to sleep!”

“Well, turn off whatever’s making that goddamn noise!”  Miles-42 said a little louder as he tossed down another pillow.

But before Miles could throw a pillow right back at him, the lights started to flicker. And with it came a way too peppy voice.

“Rise and shine, sleepyheads!”

Miles turned his attention to the door, where the oldest Miles flickered their bedroom lights on and off, all while turning up the noise of the alarm on his phone.

“Miles… what the hell?!!” He exclaimed as he sat up.

“Wake up, losers, it’s time to get ready!” Miles shouted impatiently.

In a flash, Miles-42 suddenly got out and down from his bunk, before swatting his brother’s hand away from the light, taking the phone, turning it off, and throwing it down on the ground.

“Next time you pull that shit, your phone’s going out the window.” He growled, before kicking it away.

Before 42 could pull away, Miles switched on the light, leaving it on.

“Whatever gets you up faster. Now come on! Get yourselves in order if you guys want time to eat breakfast.

Still on his bed, Miles yawned while rubbing his eyes.

“I don’t understand. Get ready for what???”

By the door, Miles sighed tiredly. “What else? The beach!”

Instantly Miles-42 shook his head. “Nope. We are NOT going to the beach at the crack of fucking dawn! Are you insane?!”

His twin opened his eyes wider, finally catching the same attitude as 42. “Yeah! Is Mami and Dad even awake right now?!”

“No, they are not.” Miles said as he rolled his eyes and picked up his phone, “But unlike YOU GUYS, they don’t take forever to do everything. You’re getting a head start this way.”

Miles-42 gave a death stare in response. “Fuck you.”

Miles simply smiled as he grabbed the doorknob. “You’re welcome. Now get up and go! Sooner the better!”

Finally he closed the door shut, leaving the twins alone. Slowly 42 put his ear to the door, listening for something. And after a few seconds, he flicked off the lights and jumped back into bed.

“He’s such a nerd.” 42 grumbled as he threw back on his covers.

“No for real.” 1610 sighed as he flopped back down.

Soon, the room entered its former state of peace, as the two relaxed. That is, for 3 seconds, until the door banged open and the alarm blared again, making the two jump.

“UP.” Miles shouted before flicking on the light and slamming the door.

With a resounding groan, the twins finally flopped out of bed.

“I’m going to kill him.” 42 hissed.

“I’ll help you.” his twin hissed back.

Meanwhile, the older Miles walked down the hall towards his little brother’s room, while checking off a box of a list in his notes app.

“Twins are up…” he muttered to himself as he switched off his phone, “Now it’s baby bro time.”

Soon, he was opening the door to the little Miles’s bedroom, only to be greeted by the collection of toys scattered across the floor. With a sigh, he carefully stepped around them until he reached the bed where his brother was wrapped up in blankets, back to sleep after the alarm.

Slowly, Miles gauged the situation. No way could he wake his brother up the same way he woke up the twins. Not unless he wanted a cry-fest on his hands. While the twins had tough skin, a slight increase in noise would be all it takes for the little Miles to wake up with a tantrum and his annoyingly loud wails.

Which is why Miles softly shook his shoulder and spoke in a low voice.

“ Mano. Get up. You need to get ready.”

Groaning, Miles rolled over to the side, facing away from his brother, which prompted a raised eyebrow from the latter. Rude.

“Miles!” He said a little louder, shaking him again. “Come on.”

“Nooooo…..” a little voice came from the swaddle of blankets.

“Miles.”

“No.”

“Miles!!!”

“NO!”

Fed up now, Miles put his head in his hands with a heavy sigh. Who knew waking up his brothers felt like waking up the dead??

Suddenly, an idea came to him, as Miles lifted up his head. Slowly, he plucked a Spidey plushy from the bed and held it up.

“Fine then. If you don’t wake up, we’re going to the beach without you, and Spidey can take your place.”

Slowly, he could see a tiny bit of curly dark hair pop up from behind the sheets, yet no movement came from them. To sell it, Miles sighed dramatically before getting up.

“Alright. You see this, Spidey? Guess that means you got Miles’s spot. I know you’ll LOVE the beach and the boardwalk and the ice cream —”

Finally, the sheets flung off, revealing a rather irritated and jealous Miles.

“OKAY, I’M UP!” he yelled.

Fighting back a smirk, his brother raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Are you sure? Spidey seems really eager to take your place.”

Quickly, Miles snatched back his toy. “Well, too bad. I changed my mind! I’m going.”

After a moment of thinking, his brother shrugged. “Hm. If you say so.”

As he turned back around, Miles smiled to himself. Now that all of his siblings were awake, the first phase of the plan was complete. The hardest part was over, and Miles could start to enjoy himself.

That is, until a single toy robot decided to shove its way into the bottom of his landing foot.

Out of pain and shock, Miles fell out into the hall, clutching his foot.

“MILES!!” he shouted angrily.

“Hey! You almost broke Robo-Boy! Watch where you’re going!” his brother shouted back as he scrambled to pick up the toy as its lights flashed.

Sighing, Miles let his head flop back down. I spoke too soon.

———

6:45 am

One problem Miles failed to anticipate was the bathroom situation.

In the kids’ quarters, there was only one single bathroom for the four of them. Which meant that it got occupied very quickly and involved long periods of impatiently waiting for a turn for the people who were too slow to be first to the bathroom. 

But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Miles’s siblings happened to be the most painfully slow people on the planet when it came to getting their business done in the bathroom.

So when almost an hour passed, only one person had been in the bathroom. Or correction, only one person was CURRENTLY in the bathroom.

Angrily, Miles-42 banged relentlessly on the door. “MILES, HURRY YOUR ASS UP!”

“IN A MINUTE!” his twin’s voice shouted from beyond the door, as the faucet ran.

Behind 42, the littlest Miles squirmed, hopping up and down. “Come onnn! I gotta pee!!”

“Oh no you don’t!” 42 hissed, “I’m not waiting another century for you people to take over the bathroom!”

“But, I have to PEEEEE!!” Miles whined louder.

Pressing his fingers to his temples, 42 sighed heavily. “ Oy, mátame ahora. ”

Just then, the oldest Miles popped into the hallway, already dressed.

“Alright, is everyone ready to go?” He chirped.

Miles-42 locked onto him with a dead expression. “Don’t bullshit me with dumb questions.”

“Miles is still using the bathroom!” His little brother complained, “And he’s taking FOREVER!”

Dropping his stuff, Miles’s jaw dropped. “What?! It’s been almost an hour!”

Shaking his head, 42 gestured towards the door while backing up. “Take it up with him, be my guest. I’m done.”

Groaning, Miles walked up to the door and banged on it.

“Hey! Miles! It doesn’t take this long to use the bathroom! What are you doing in there?!”

Beyond the closed door, a heavy exasperated groan echoed. “Argh, will you people just shut up and chill?! I’m doing my skincare routine!”

And it was at the word “skincare” that Miles-42 snapped.

“SKINCARE?! IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR GAY ASS OUT OF THIS BATHROOM RIGHT NOW—”

“ Miles .” His older brother growled. “Not helping.” He then turned towards the door. “I’m taking over here. Hurry up and get out now. There’s people waiting and you’re wasting everyone’s time!”

After a long pause, the door finally swung open, revealing a rather irritated Miles in a towel and armed with several skincare products.

“Y’all… clearly don’t practice good hygiene.” He scoffed. “Stuff like this isn’t rushed. But whatever! I’m out!”

With that, he marched to his bedroom and slammed the door. And it was after that when Miles-42 realized he had a chance to use the bathroom and rushed towards it—

Only for Little Miles to slip past him and inside the bathroom before he could step foot inside.

“¡ AYYY, PUTA MADRE—!”

———

8:00 am

Things were starting to spiral.

Thanks to the bathroom issue, they were 30 minutes behind schedule. Which meant that when Ma and Dad woke up, breakfast still wasn’t prepared.

So unfortunately, Miles had to step it up.

“Okay!” He sighed as he grabbed various items from the pantry. “You guys are gonna have to pick between three choices for breakfast: cereal, toast, or toaster waffles.”

As his three brothers sat at the table, 42 raised an eyebrow.

“Those three only? Nah, you got me messed up.” He scoffed.

“I second that!” His twin added, “What about some bacon? Or eggs??”

Setting down the assorted breakfast foods on the counter, Miles fixed them both with a glare.

“Well, maybe if you all hadn’t taken two hours to get ready, we would have time for that! But too late and too bad.”

Little Miles eyed the boxes before shaking his head.

“I got a better idea!” He spoke up. “Why don’t we get some food from Sugar Rush! They got way better stuff like the Mighty Meal!”

Just the mention of the fast food place made Miles shudder. “Just hearing those words gives me diabetes. You KNOW that place is unhealthy, and it’s no place for breakfast either.”

“Nuh-uh! Come on, let’s go! Pleaseeee??”  

“No, Miles.”

“Please!”

“NO—”

“PLEASEEEEE!!!”

With a heavy sigh, Miles turned away. “I’m not doing this with you. No means no.”

As he turned his back, Little Miles started to breathe quickly, his mouth pressed into a thin line and quivering. And as the twins watched him, they knew what was going to happen.

“Oh no.” 1610 whispered with a gulp.

“I swear, if he starts to—” 42 started to say.

As if on cue, Little Miles starts crying. 

“I WANT SUGAR RUSH! I WANT A MIGHTY MEAL!” He screamed, collapsing dramatically on the table.

But despite the loud tantrum, older Miles seemed unaffected as he poured himself some cereal.

“There’s also some fruit and some juice in the fridge if you want it!” He shouted to the twins, barely being heard over Little Miles’s screaming.

“Aren’t you going to do something?!” 1610 shouted back, gesturing to his brother hollering unintelligibly.

“Oh, don’t mind him! He’ll tire himself out.” Miles replied, as he leaned back in his chair.

Sighing, Miles flopped down on the table, looking towards his twin, who very surprisingly was unfazed and indifferent towards the tantrum.

“How are you so calm about this?” He asked him.

With a smug look, Miles-42 simply gestured towards the pair of earbuds in his ears, causing his twin to sigh and cover his ears.

But as the screaming continued, older Miles soon proved to be right, as Little Miles eventually shut up, going back to breathing hard. However, there was now a permanent scowl on his face as he crossed his arms in protest.

Not long after, the parents came into the kitchen, both looking confused and annoyed.

“ ¿Que paso? What was that screaming??” Ma exclaimed, searching the kitchen.

“Y’all better not have been burning the house down while we were sleeping.” Dad added, looking at his sons accusingly.

Older Miles spared a glance at Little Miles, who looked slightly uneasy at his parents’ accusatory stares, before speaking up.

“We weren’t, Dad. We were all just enjoying breakfast! Well, except for Miles. He’s refusing to eat.”

At the last sentence, Ma set her stare on Little Miles, who started to squirm.

“Really? And why is that, mijo ?? ” She asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

For a minute, Little Miles looked intimidated by his mom (after all she didn’t appear to be happy with him), but soon spoke in a tiny voice.

“I… wanted a Mighty Meal. From Sugar Rush.” 

Immediately, Ma’s other eyebrow raised to meet the other one. “For breakfast?!”

Little Miles slowly nodded.

Dad meanwhile looked at the boxes of food on the table, puzzled. “I don’t get it. Is there no food here? ‘Cause I see your brothers eating right now.”

“That’s right.” Ma added before narrowing her eyes. “Are ‘Mighty Meals’ suddenly all the food you can eat now?”

Little Miles squirmed even more in his seat. “No, Mommy.”

“Well, then I don’t see the problem with eating at home. Save the Mighty Meals for another day.”

“But—!”

Immediately, something hardened in Ma’s gaze, although her face remained unchanged. The feared “Mom Stare”. And instantly, Little Miles deflated in resignation.

“Okay, Mommy.”

From the other side of the table, Older Miles smirked before getting up and grabbing something.

“Now that you’re done screaming, how about you eat this instead?”

He then came back with a plastic box and slid it over to Little Miles, who opened it curiously before going bright-eyed and gasping.

“Pastelitos!!!” he squealed.

Immediately, the twins stopped eating and gawked as Little Miles grabbed the guava and cream cheese filled pastry.

“Hey! How come we didn’t get those?!” they exclaimed in unison.

Older Miles shrugged. “Who said you couldn’t eat them? There’s enough to go around! If Miles doesn’t eat it all.”

As soon as he said the last part, the twins looked at each other before scrambling for a pastelito. Soon, the three were mildly bickering about who got how much, leaving Miles and his parents to enjoy themselves.

“Hoo! They are a handful.” Dad sighed.

“You got that right.” Miles said tiredly.

Ma turned to her oldest son, softening. “I appreciate your help, cariño. I was worried by the commotion earlier, but it looks like you have it handled.”

Miles hummed in contemplation. “Not entirely. I’ll call it when we get to the beach.”

Dad’s eyes widened in realization. “The beach! I forgot! Crap, I gotta go get ready.”

“Language.” Ma chided as Dad ran out of the kitchen.

Miles chuckled. “I think it’s better if you get ready too. Don’t want to be late.”

Ma hummed in amusement before leaning down and kissing his cheek. “Well, okay Boss. We’ll be ready in a few.”

As she walked away, Ma remembered something last minute before turning around. “Also! Don’t forget to feed the cat!”

Cat?  Miles thought, What cat—

Before he could finish the thought, Miles felt a pit in his stomach. Oh my god, Meows.

— — —

8:15 am

Meows wasn’t speaking to him.

Miles had been so caught up in the chaos of this morning that he completely forgot the cat waiting patiently outside to be let in from the backyard. There was a schedule to his coming and going: stay out after dusk and come in at dawn. 

And when that cycle is broken, even if it was for an hour or so, Meows doesn’t appreciate it.

But, on the bright side, Meows wasn’t mad at everyone. Especially when Little Miles offered him a pastelito. On the other hand, Miles had to deal with boxes being knocked over by petty paws and loud yowling.

But, hell if Miles actually let that get in the way of his preparation.

“Alright, everyone! Gather around! We’re doing roll calls!” Miles shouted to his brothers.

42 rolled his eyes, as he grabbed his hoodie. “This is stupid. We’re already here, what’s the point?”

Miles looked at him with a dubious expression. “Better safe than sorry.” He then looked down at his phone. “Okay! Roll call! Uno!”

With a groan, 42 muttered, “Dos.”

“Tres!” His twin continued the count.

“Quatro!” Little Miles exclaimed.

But, instead of the expected “Cinco”, there was an empty silence, as the last to be called simply narrowed his eyes.

“Meows. Come on.” Miles said expectantly, “It isn’t complete without you!”

Meows swiftly narrowed his eyes. “Mraow! (Oh, so NOW I’m important?!)”

Miles groaned. “Look, I already said sorry! I’ll say it again! I’m sorry I forgot you outside. You are important!”

Meows turned his head to the side, sticking his nose up into the air. “Raowr! (That won’t cut it!)”

Miles shifted impatiently before finally deadpanning, “I’ll catch a fish for you at the beach, how about that?”

Slowly, Meows raised an eyebrow, slightly lowering his head. “Mew? (Which one?)”

“A big one. A HUGE guy.”

Meows was silent for a few more moments before finally looking at Miles fully and lowering his head.

“Mao. (Cinco.)”

Miles smiled with pride. “Good! Now, onto the next thing. Do we have everything…?”

“Twin and I got the drink cooler! And the sunscreen!” 1610 Miles announced.

“I got the toys for sandcastles!” Little Miles declared.

“Perfect! Which leaves Ma and Dad to get the beach mats.” Miles said as he typed something on his phone.

42 leaned to look at the front door behind his brother. “Does that mean we can wait in the car now?”

Miles looked at the door then at his brothers, feeling uneasy. That DID mean they could wait in the car. But, they could be forgetting something crucial–

“Great. Peace!” 42 exclaimed as he pushed past Miles and opened the door, his brothers following him out.

As Miles watched them go, he finally let it go. “Eh, I bet it won’t be an issue.”

….

It turns out forgetting your phone was an issue.

Miles swore he had it as he climbed into the family SUV, and as the car started. But, when the car started to back out of the driveway, and Miles reached for his phone to put on some music, he came up empty-handed.

“WAIT!!” he shouted.

Immediately, the car lurched to a stop.

“What happened?!” Dad exclaimed with worry.

“My phone!” Miles replied, already clambering over his brothers to open the car door.

Ma sighed. “Ay yi yi. Don’t scare me like that.”

After a few minutes, Miles finally came back, phone in hand.

“Okay. We can go.” He said confidently as he sat back down.

And with that, the car started moving again. That is until one of the twin Miles shouted, “WAIT!”

“AY! What now?!” Ma snapped.

“I forgot my headphones!” 1610 Miles answered, “I’ll be back!”

And soon enough, he went back into the house and back out to the car with headphones.

“Okay. Is anyone missing anything?” Dad asked as soon as his son sat down.

The five in the back looked around and at each other, all of them muttering “No” and “Nope”. Until Little Miles gasped.

“YES! SPIDEY!” he said as he rushed out before anyone could stop him.

Finally, when Little Miles entered the car with his stuffy, Ma had enough.

“Alright, NOBODY is leaving this car anymore. We’re going now. Start the car, Jeff.”

Sighing, Dad shifted the gear into reverse. “Yes, honey.”

And soon, they were off, driving the rest of the way out of the driveway—

“WAIT!” Ma cried.

“WHAT?” Dad shouted, the car lurching to a stop.

Ma winced with a guilty smile on her face. “ I forgot my sunglasses.”

“UGH!” Everyone in the car groaned.

— — —

10:00 am

So. How hard was it to plan a family outing to the beach without any complications? To Miles’s surprise, it was easier and harder than he thought. 

Sure, they ended up arriving at the beach two hours later than they wanted, and they had to find a space among the packs of umbrellas and beach mats to settle in. But after that, everything was alright again.

The twins splashed each other in the waves, while Little Miles made sandcastles with Ma. And yes, Miles did end up catching that fish for Meows (although it technically found him as it came out of nowhere and smacked him in the chest while he was in the water, to everyone’s amusement). 

So at the end of the day… yeah. It wasn’t stressful for once. It proved that the Morales could and would have a successful beach day.

And it also proved that Miles was the boss at planning.

Answer of the day: Not that hard when you love your family to death

Chapter Text

Question of the day: Who can tell the most chilling, spookiest, scariest story of all time?

Before tonight, Miles-42 knew it was him. Clearly.

Everyone knew that his brothers were pussies. It wasn’t even a debate, even though they deny it and accuse 42 of it instead.

Shut up, P! YOU’RE THE SCARED ONE!

But as much as they want to act tough all the time, they still scream when lights randomly flicker out, hide during thunderstorms and lightning strikes outside their house, and still cling onto each other in fear whenever they watch horror movies. And that was the difference between 42 and his brothers: he didn’t do that goofy crap.

Miles-42 had faith in his storytelling skills. So when the opportunity came for him to tell it, he knew for sure that he could easily scare his brothers to death with them. 

That is unless someone scared him first. But, no way was that EVER gonna happen.

— — —

It had all started with a power outage.

Beforehand, things didn’t look too good on the weather front. According to the news channel the parents were watching, they were forecasting high speed winds, lots of thunder, and even more rain. Possibly even hail. Weather people were freaking out, telling everyone in the Manhattan area to be cautious of power outages and damaged property.

But who were the Moraleses to believe any of it? They say that all the time, and it never happens. So they stayed comfy inside their bedrooms, not at all worried by the growing storm.

That is, until the lights cut out.

In the twins’ room, Miles-42 was comfortably listening to music and reading, when the room flickered into darkness. What was once an illuminated page of words disappeared into thin air, and 42 quickly became annoyed.

He lost his page. Great. And what was even more great was the fact that his twin was screaming his head off like a maniac.

Throwing off his headphones, the screaming became more focused, as 42 leaned over the side of the bunk to gaze down to the lower bunk.

“SHUT UP!” he shouted.

Instantly, his twin stopped, breathing heavily.

“Oh my god! P?! Are you there? I can’t see you!”

Growling slightly, 42 reached down and flicked him right in the nose, causing Miles to gasp.

“Ow! What the—”

“No shit, Sherlock.” 42 sighed. “I’m right here.”

Fuming, Miles glared into the darkness. “You could’ve just said that.”

Just then, the door opened, revealing their big brother holding up his phone flashlight.

“Are you guys okay?” he asked.

The twins looked towards him, as 42 made his way to climb down to the ground.

“We’re good. What happened?” Miles asked.

Older Miles sighed. “Power went out across the block. Probably because of that storm.”

As if on cue, thunder boomed loudly, making both of 42’s brothers jump with wide eyes. And when it ended, 42 couldn’t help but snicker to himself.

“Pussies,” he muttered.

Not hearing the insult, older Miles continued speaking. “In the meantime, Ma and Dad want us all to stay in the living room until it’s over. So get what you need and go.”

1610-Miles sighed. “Do we have to? I just got comfortable!”

Older Miles paused for a moment before shrugging. “I mean, you could just stay alone in the dark if you want to—”

Just then, he was interrupted by another ear-rattling boom, instantly making 1610-Miles jump out of bed quickly, as if the bed was suddenly on fire.

“On second thought, nahhh. I’m good. Let’s go! Now. ” he squeaked as he grabbed a few things and rushed to the doorway.

As the two left the room, Miles-42 following them out afterwards with a roll of his eyes, they all stumbled in the darkness, using their flashlights and feeling along the wall. And as Miles-42 trailed behind his brothers, he suddenly got a wicked idea and slowly turned off his phone flashlight with a grin.

Noticing the decrease in light, both 1610-Miles and Older Miles froze, both of them glancing back.

“Uh, P? You there?” Older Miles asked hesitantly.

“I swore he followed us out–”

A hand jumps on both of their shoulders, and grabs hard.

Soon, the hallway was filled with loud screams, as both Miles scrambled out of the hand’s grip, tripping over each other in the process. And as they quickly shone their flashlights up, they could see Miles-42 laughing his ass off.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” 1610-Miles shouted with anger.

“YOU SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF US!” Older Miles yelled.

42’s cackles subsided slightly, as he tried to speak. “Y’all set yourselves up for that. I couldn’t resist.”

As his two brothers got up, his twin fixed him with a glare. “You need help. Like actually!”

“Says the dude who almost crapped his pants.” 42 shot back, pushing past him with a patronizing tap on his shoulder.

But as he turned back to face the rest of the hallway, 42 suddenly ran into something hard and tall, making his heart stop. With wide eyes, he backed up and turned on his phone flashlight. And when he saw what was in front of him, 42 let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Dad!” he groaned.

In front of him, Dad crossed his arms. “I heard screaming. Y’all better not be goofing around with your mom and your brother. They’re on the couch, scared to death!”

Just then, the two Miles caught up, looking at 42 with burning stares.

“You can thank Miles for that.” Older Miles huffed.

Dad then glared down at Miles-42, who put up his hands in a surrender position.

“They’re the ones who screamed. I didn’t do nothing.” he bluffed.

Dad kept up the glare before finally sighing. “Just… get in the living room before your mama has a heart attack.”

Without protest, the three walked the rest of the way to the living room as Dad trailed behind them. Sure enough, Ma was on the couch with Little Miles and Meows, swaddled up in a blanket big enough for the three of them. In addition, plenty of gas lamps swarmed the living room table and windowsills, illuminating the room in a dim but seeable atmosphere. And once she saw her other sons, Ma quickly glared.

“So that was you… Ay , no puedo contigo. ” Ma muttered.

“Sorry, Ma. We didn’t mean to scare you.” Older Miles apologized before turning towards 42 with a glare. “Some of us just don’t know how to act.”

Miles-42 raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, like the idiots who screamed their heads off.”

His brothers both narrowed their eyes, two seconds away from going off on him until Ma clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Just sit down, all of you!” Ma snapped, pointing to the empty spot on the couch and the blankets folded on top of them.

Begrudgingly, the three moved to sit down, each of them grabbing a blanket in the process. As everyone settled in, the only person standing was Dad.

“Okay.” He said as everyone stopped moving. “According to the TV before it shut off, power might be out for a while. We don’t know how long so for now, we’re bunking here for tonight. Like a family sleepover!”

Little Miles perked up. “Sleepover? Yesss!”

Meanwhile, Miles-42 had the opposite reaction as he sank into the couch. “Oy.”

Dad then smiled. “So, let’s have fun with it! I’m pretty sure gas is still on and we have a couple of things in our fridge, so who’s up for dulce de coco ?”

Just the words dulce de coco made everyone light up, forgetting their past anger. After all, no one in their right mind could stay mad with such a delicious treat.

“I am!” Everyone chimed in unison.

After that, Ma slowly unraveled herself from the blankets. “And you know what? I’ll help you. I need to do SOMETHING in this house before I lose my mind.”

“Copy that.” Dad replied with a smile as he wrapped his arm around Ma’s shoulder.

But before they left, Ma eyed her children sitting on the couch.

“Are you sure you guys are okay on the couch?” she asked.

The five all shared glances before Older Miles spoke up.

“We’re good! We’ll just be here!” he reassured her.

Dad nodded as he picked up a gas lamp. “Good. If you need anything, we’re only a few steps away. Holler if it’s an emergency.” As they walked away, Dad slowed, thinking about it. “... Actually, don’t. You’d give me a heart attack. Just speak loudly.”

And with that, Ma and Dad disappeared into the hallway, leaving them alone. Silence quickly took over, as they settled in and got out their devices. But it didn’t take long until they heard something else.

A slight scratching on the walls.

At first, they tried to ignore it. But then, it started up again, causing each of them to look up.

“Do you hear that?” Little Miles asked.

“So it’s not just me…” 1610-Miles whispered.

Older Miles looked around before looking at Miles-42 with a dead expression.

“Miles?” he asked in a questioning tone.

Frowning, 42 put his hands up, as the scratching continued. “It’s not me!”

And as soon as the words left his mouth, there was a loud bang.

Instantly, everyone started screaming (yowling in Meows’s case), clambering over blankets and pillows and each other in a frenzy. Soon, everyone was pressed up together on one end of the couch, shivering, except for one.

That one being Miles-42 on the other end of the couch, laughing.

“Y’all need to use your heads.” he chuckled as he held up a phone, where the scratching and the banging echoed out from the speaker.

Once they realized what happened, the outrage started.

“DAMN IT, MILES!” Older Miles groaned.

“WHAT. IS. WRONG WITH YOU?!” 1610-Miles screeched.

“I’M TELLING MOM!” Little Miles cried.

“MRAOW! (I WILL SCRATCH YOU!)” Meows yowled.

42 smirked as he turned off his phone. “Like I said. Y’all set yourselves up. Literally anything scares you!”

As everyone glared at him, Older Miles sat up. “Okay, that’s it. We’re acknowledging this here and now.”

His smile fading, Miles-42 lifted an eyebrow. “Acknowledging what?”

“You keep scaring us, man.” 1610-Miles replied.

“All the time.” Little Miles added.

Miles-42 let out a snort before frowning. “Of course I do! Come on, don’t blame me. I only do it because it’s funny seeing you idiots squeal. It’s all jokes.”

“Meow. (Jokes are supposed to be funny.)” Meows accused.

“It is funny! To me.” 42 repeated.

Everyone’s glares hardened, clearly not letting up.

“Look. It’s not my fault you guys scare so easily. I mean, I’d understand if I was like that and y’all kept scaring me. ‘Cause it’s deserved!” Miles-42 explained, growing tired by it.

At those words however, his twin seemed to light up. An idea was coming into his head.

“So… you would let us scare you?” He asked with a tiny smirk.

Miles-42 eyed him, his eyes narrowing before he scoffed.

“I mean… it’s not like you CAN, like be serious.” He answered, laughing a little.

His twin then glanced at Older Miles, who was catching onto what was brewing.

“Wanna bet?” Older Miles asked.

…

“So, let me get this straight. You want to tell a story SO bad that it would make me freak out, as a scary story bet?”

The other Miles were now facing Miles-42 with a new confidence, all of them smiling.

“That’s right.” Twin Miles confirmed. “And YOU can tell US a scary story of your own, and we’ll see who chickens out first.”

42 leaned back, thinking about the offer before frowning.

“What’s the catch?”

Older Miles shrugged with a smirk. “Oh, nothing much. Just that the loser has to sleep in the basement garage. Alone. In the dark.”

Without meaning to, a shudder floods Miles-42’s body. Like he said, a lot of things didn’t scare him. That didn’t mean he didn’t have his weaknesses.

A big one of those weaknesses was an involuntary fear of spiders. Which the garage was FULL of.

Which is why Miles-42 immediately backed out. “Nuh-uh. You got me fucked up.”

“Oh?” His twin asked as he faked a surprised expression, “Too chicken, P? I thought you weren’t scared?”

Instinctively, 42 lifted his lips into a snarl. “I ain’t scared of nothing.”

“Then take the bet.” Older Miles said simply, “Simple as that.”

Miles-42 looked at them, debating it once more. The last thing he wanted was to hang out in the garage with spiders. But at the same time, who said he had to? Nothing scared him! Not even the most twisted story his stupid-ass brothers could dream up. Plus, if he got his twin in the garage, he got the room to himself.

Slowly after a long moment, Miles-42 grinned evilly.

“Who’s going first?”

———

By the time the dulce de coco was made and served, the ground rules were laid out, after tons of debate:

1. No visual jumpscares (42 wasn’t happy about this)
2. The story can’t be too long
3. No unnecessary screaming (unless they all wanted an ass-whooping from Ma)
4. If someone chickens out, the storyteller has to stop (Little Miles didn’t count because he was scared of everything)

So after treats were finished, and Ma and Dad knocked out on the couch, everything was ready.

As Older Miles grabbed a gas lamp and dimmed it slightly to set the mood, he gave a warning look to 42.

“Are you sure you want to do this? There’s no backing out.” He warned.

Miles-42 gave him a dead expression. “If your stupid ass is trying to psych me out, it’s not working. Let’s start already.”

“Alright, you asked for it.”

It was at those words that 42 felt a short-lived sense of dread wash over him before he shook it away. Stop being a bitch, Miles.

“I’ll do the honors of going first.” Older Miles announced as he crossed his legs together, resting the lamp just below his face to make it shadowy. “Y’all better get comfy… because this story won’t be.”

“ Ay, yi yi. Start the story, bozo.” 42 scoffed.

Older Miles raised an eyebrow before shaking his head and finally starting.

/////

It was a dark and stormy night. Much like this one. Not only that, but it was the dead of night, in the early am. No one was caught dead roaming the streets. Except… for one.

People say he walks through these streets only in the late hours. A man with a face so mangled and twisted it didn’t even look human. And instead of hands, all he had was a hook, which would drag along the ground as he walked. That’s why when people would hear gravel scraping and a low screeching, they knew he was near.

But, someone new came into the neighborhood. Someone who had never heard of the Shadow Man (that’s his name by the way) haunting the streets at night. So, as she settled in and got comfy, she would always hear that low screeching and feel curiosity instead of fear.

So on this stormy night, she heard this screeching as she got into bed. Only, it was louder, and it was followed by thumps.

Thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thunp.

New girl didn’t know what to do. Should she stay in bed? Should she go and investigate? She- she tried to ignore it, but it was always there.

Thump. Screech. Thump. Screech.

Soon the noise was on top of her, clawing its way into the walls and into the silence. New girl realized that the sounds were actually coming from her door. Who was there? Should she answer it?

But unfortunately for our poor new girl, she gave in. She got out of bed, and crept into the hallway, heading towards the front door. The sounds were there still, except it was growing louder and more frantic, like someone was trying to break down the door.

And when she reached the door, she heard something new. A voice as shrill as the screeching.

“ Let. Me. In.”

New girl was petrified. She knew something horrible awaited her. But the voice somehow broke something in her mind, as it now echoed through her brain on loop.

Let him in. Let him in.

She opened the door, the poor thing. And she saw him. Saw his mangled face and mangled arm. But, it was too late. Without a sound, he snatched her out into the night, her screams muffled by a slash of his hook.

And ever since, everyone became more afraid than ever. Because they knew of the Shadow Man, and how he comes to houses at night and slaughters anyone brave enough to open them.

So, if you hear screeching on a late night like this… you can’t escape it. He has already found you, and all you can do is pray.

////

“The end.” Older Miles said with a grin.

As he surveyed his audience to see who was scared, the only one who seemed to be frightened was Little Miles as he clung to his sheets with wide eyes. But, Miles-42?

Didn’t even change his expression.

“L story.” He said simply.

Older Miles’s mouth dropped open. “WHAT?!”

“You heard me. L. Story. I didn’t even get scared, bro.”

Older Miles’s eye twitched, as he held up his hand. “So you’re saying that a mutilated arm with a hook scratching and banging on your door at night isn’t scary??”

Miles-42 shrugged. “It wasn’t really that. It was the new girl. I mean, am I supposed to feel bad for her after SHE opened the door? ‘Oh no, it’s the consequences of my own actions’ type shit.”

His twin hissed through his teeth awkwardly. “Yeah… P has a point. You had the vision. It didn’t work out.”

Older Miles deflated. “Okay, shit. Let’s see YOU do better!”

“Nah.” 1610-Miles said, shaking his head. “I wanna save the best for last. Miles, you go first.”

42 rolled his eyes. It was really hilarious to see how confident his twin was. As if he wasn’t gonna scare them into next week.

Quickly, he snatched the lamp from Older Miles, giving him storytelling rights.

“Y’all don’t know what you’re about to unleash. Don’t blame me if you can’t sleep at night.” 42 said lowly.

“Just tell the story, already!” Older Miles sighed.

/////

Once upon a moonlit night, in a small village nestled amidst an ancient forest, a group of friends decided to embark on a thrilling adventure. They gathered around a flickering campfire, the crackling flames casting eerie shadows that danced upon their faces. As the wind whispered through the trees, they eagerly awaited a tale that would send shivers down their spines.

An elderly villager, known for his chilling storytelling, began to weave a tale of dread and darkness. His voice carried an eerie tone as he spoke of a long-abandoned mansion deep within the heart of the forest. Legends whispered of an unspeakable horror that dwelled within its walls—a ghostly figure haunting those brave enough to venture inside.

Intrigued by the sinister tale, the group exchanged nervous glances but couldn't resist the allure of an adrenaline-fueled adventure. With trembling hearts, they made their way toward the decrepit mansion. The air grew colder, and the forest seemed to close in around them as they approached the ancient structure.

The mansion stood tall, its facade crumbling and ivy-covered, as if nature itself had reclaimed it. Hesitant footsteps echoed through the dilapidated entryway as the friends ventured inside. The atmosphere was suffocating, the air heavy with an otherworldly presence.

Creaking floorboards greeted each step they took, as if the house was alive, groaning in torment. Cobwebs clung to the ceilings, and dust coated every surface, as if time had stood still within those decaying walls.

In the dim light of their flickering flashlights, they explored room after room, their hearts racing with trepidation. The sound of whispers and distant laughter filled the air, haunting their every move. Shadows danced and writhed along the walls, their forms twisted and distorted, taunting the intruders.

As they delved deeper into the mansion's depths, the friends stumbled upon a room shrouded in darkness. A single beam of moonlight pierced through a broken window, revealing a dusty, antique mirror. Its surface was tarnished, cracked, and whispered tales of forgotten souls trapped within.

Compelled by a mix of curiosity and mounting fear, one of the friends stepped forward to peer into the aged looking glass. Suddenly, the reflection shifted, revealing a ghastly figure staring back—a hollow-eyed specter with outstretched arms, beckoning for release from its eternal torment.

A blood-curdling scream tore through the air, and the friends turned to find their companion frozen in fear, trapped within the mirror's grip. Desperation filled the room as they struggled to free their friend, but their efforts were in vain. The ghostly figure grew stronger, feeding on their terror, inching closer to escape its spectral prison.

In a final act of bravery, one of the friends shattered the mirror with a heavy object, releasing a burst of dark energy that dissipated into the night. The room fell silent, and as the dust settled, they found their captured friend released, gasping for air and trembling with relief.

Shaken to their core, the friends fled the mansion, vowing to never speak of their haunting encounter again. From that day forward, the abandoned mansion remained undisturbed, its secrets buried deep within the forest, waiting patiently for the next unsuspecting souls to venture into its dark embrace.

And so, dear listener, remember to tread cautiously, for the shadows hold secrets best left undisturbed, and the line between curiosity and horror is often perilously thin.

/////

When Miles-42 stopped with a smirk, he gladly took in the faces of his brothers, all of them on edge and close to fear.

“So… a haunted mansion.” Twin Miles spoke at last. “That— that’s not scary!”

Miles-42 raised an eyebrow. “Who said it was the mansion that was haunted?”

“Um… you did?” Older Miles answered slowly.

“Yes. But what most don’t know is that when these friends left, something followed them out.” 42 continued ominously, leaning forward, “Something that continues to haunt the streets of New York. Which is why, listeners, you better watch your back when you sleep at night, and never look into the mirror. ‘Cause nothing will save you when it—”

A loud bang cuts 42 off, and so does the oncoming yelps and screams.

Meanwhile, 42 cackled as he removed his fist from the wall. “And I win. Pussies.”

“HEY!” His twin shouted. “That’s not fair!”

“You broke a rule! No. Jumpscares.” Older Miles protested.

42 shook his head. “Nuh-uh. No VISUAL jumpscares, you said. And yall didn’t see me bang the wall, did you?” With a victorious smirk on his face, Miles-42 put the lamp off his lap. “Now who’s taking the honors of sleeping in the garage for the first half? Or do yall want to do it together?”

The brothers shared glances before 1610-Miles said, “Who said we chickened out?”

Miles-42 stopped smiling. “Come on, now. You guys were screaming. I think that’s a sign of chickening out.”

“But if I’m correct…” Older Miles said with a smirk of his own. “You have to tap out to lose. We stuck with your story until the end. So technically we’re still in the game.”

“So we’re going all or nothing!” 1610-Miles exclaimed as he grabbed the lamp, “If I scare you with my story, you lose. But if you’re not scared, then we’ll take the L. Okay?”

Miles-42 narrowed his eyes. This was ridiculous. They were dragging this out longer than they needed to. But, they were hinging on the possibility that 42 was going to get scared.

Which was even more ridiculous. Especially if his TWIN of all people was telling the story. So really,  they were just delaying the inevitable.

So, Miles-42 finally relented as he leaned back confidently. “Hit me then, twin.”

1610-Miles positioned the lamp underneath him, smiling evilly. “You asked for it.”

//////

In a quiet suburban neighborhood, nestled behind white picket fences and well-manicured lawns, there lived a seemingly ordinary family. Little did they know that an insidious presence lurked within the walls of their cozy home—a presence that would awaken and possess their young son.

At first, the signs were subtle. The boy, once full of laughter and innocence, began to display odd behaviors. His eyes, once bright and sparkling, turned hollow and devoid of warmth. Shadows seemed to cling to him, elongating and contorting in his presence.

His once melodic voice took on a haunting rasp, uttering words that were far beyond his years and laced with a malevolent intent. Night after night, his parents would hear him whispering to unseen entities, conversing with a darkness that grew stronger with each passing day.

As the possession took hold, the boy's demeanor shifted drastically. His playful nature twisted into fits of rage and violence. Objects flew across the room, seemingly propelled by an unseen force. His parents, consumed by fear, watched helplessly as their beloved child transformed before their eyes.

The boy's once cherubic face became distorted, contorting into sinister expressions that sent shivers down the spines of all who beheld him. His body moved with unnatural agility, bending and twisting in ways that defied human limits.

Every night, the family's home became a battleground, a place where the struggle between good and evil played out in horrifying manifestations. Furniture levitated, slamming against the walls. Deep, guttural voices echoed through the halls, taunting the family with their menacing laughter.

Desperate for answers, the family sought the help of a renowned exorcist. With trepidation in their hearts, they watched as the exorcist confronted the possessed boy, armed with holy water, crucifixes, and sacred incantations.

The exorcism was a harrowing ordeal, as the boy convulsed and writhed, his body contorting in unnatural ways. Unearthly growls and screams emanated from deep within him, causing even the exorcist to recoil in terror.

Hours turned into an eternity as the battle raged on. The forces of darkness fought fiercely, determined to keep their grip on the young boy's soul. But the exorcist, undeterred, persisted with unyielding faith, channeling divine power to combat the evil that possessed the child.

Finally, a blinding light filled the room, as if the heavens themselves had answered the exorcist's call. The boy's body went limp, and the terrifying presence that had consumed him vanished, banished back to the depths from whence it came.

Exhausted but relieved, the family embraced their son, tears streaming down their faces. The ordeal had left scars that would never fade, but they had reclaimed their child from the clutches of darkness.

And so, dear listener, this cautionary tale reminds us that evil can lurk in the most unexpected places, and innocence can be corrupted by forces beyond our comprehension. It is a reminder to stay vigilant, for darkness seeks to extinguish the light, and the battle for our souls is an eternal struggle

/////

“The end.” 1610-Miles finished with a chilling smirk.

As he sat there, Miles-42 felt his heart racing at the story, mildly on edge. But, as his twin stared at him, he quickly masked it.

“I’ll give you props…” 42 admitted, “That was scary. But not scary enough, which means I WIN—”

Just then, he was cut off by a low moan, shocking him into silence. 42 looked around, trying to find the noise before quickly catching on.

“Really?” 42 deadpanned, looking at his twin, “Trying to copy my little jumpscares to scare me? Tch, y’all are pathetic.”

1610-Miles however was confused, and looked around. “That’s not me.” He said honestly.

Miles-42 frowned, as the moan grew louder and the gas lamps started to flicker. Among the blankets, Little Miles and Meows clung onto each other.

“Milesss! Stop messing with us!” Little Miles whined at 42.

Miles-42 glared, quickly getting annoyed. “Okay, that’s it. Y’all aren’t funny. Knock it off—”

And it was at that moment that all of the lights turned off. Instantly, 42 felt dread creep up his spine, as he saw darkness everywhere.

“Miles?!” He shouted into the dark.

“I’m here!” His twin answered. “But… where’s Miles?”

Miles-42 looked around as his eyes adjusted to find Older Miles missing. Before he could speak, 42 heard something else.

A low giggling and a weirdly distorted voice going, “ Miles… Miles… ”

Miles-42 froze. No way did any of his brothers sound like that or could even make that voice. Whoever that was… that wasn’t his brother.

Slowly he got up from the couch, his fight or flight responses kicking in. He then grabbed his phone, still hearing the voice, and instantly turned the flashlight towards where it was coming from.

And all he saw was the face of Older Miles with pitch black eyes and a grin too wide for his face.

Before he knew it, a scream 42 had never made before left his mouth, as Older Miles grabbed him by the arms. Instantly, Miles-42 tried throwing punches and kicks, screaming all the while. But as he struggled, he heard something new that quieted his screaming.

Older Miles was laughing in his normal voice.

At that moment, the gas lights turned on again, revealing everyone laughing at him, even Ma and Dad. Miles-42 shut up, looking around with fear and confusion.

“W-what??” He asked.

“We win!” Older Miles exclaimed in his normal voice as he let go.

Miles-42 stared at him in shock, as it all sunk in. It was a prank.

“How?!” He asked.

1610-Miles got up with a smile. “We planned it from the start! We got Ma and Dad to mess with the lights while you thought they were sleeping. And all it took from there was a semi-scary story and an even scarier possession prank.”

Miles-42 looked at Older Miles. “But! Your eyes! And that voice!”

Older Miles quickly plucked out the black filter on his eyes, revealing his normal ones. “Eye contacts!” He then pulled out his phone and held the bottom of it to his throat. “ And voice changer. ”

Miles-42 shook his head in disbelief. But soon, a laugh came out of his mouth. “I can’t believe this! You got me. And you got Ma and Dad to help too??”

Ma came over, and wrapped a loving arm around 42. “It’s nothing personal, mijo. We just got tired of you tormenting your poor brothers. Even though they are scaredy-cats.”

“Hey!” All the Miles except for 42 protested.

Meanwhile, Dad got up with a sigh. “Hopefully it means we’re done with all this. Also, no one is sleeping in the garage. I’m not letting ANY of y'all turn up the next morning with bug bites and dust all over you!”

1610-Miles rolled his eyes “Ugh. Fineee.” He then flashed a goofy smile at his twin. “But we still get bragging rights.”

———

So, who could tell the scariest story out of the five of them? Unfortunately, it wasn’t 42; it was his twin. Something that his stupid ass wouldn’t let him forget, long after the power came back on.

Miles-42 learned his lesson. He tried not to scare his brothers as much (even though it is still funny as hell). But, he also learned something else: he loved a good challenge. Sure, it is embarrassing when you’re scared in front of everyone and it hurts your “bad boy” reputation.

But if it meant he could participate in scary storytime on stormy nights and bond with his brothers… being scared might not be so bad after all.

Answer of the day: 1610-Miles (he’s still a pussy though)

Chapter Text

Question of the day: How lame is it that you have to watch your little brother when you’re out with friends?

When your brother happens to be one of the most annoying people on the planet, very VERY lame. At least, according to the twins.

It wasn’t an uncommon thing for the twins and their little brother to not see eye to eye on certain things. Don’t get it twisted, they still love each other and tolerate each other sometimes. But, you wouldn’t catch the twins dead with toys playing “Space Robot Crusader” or any of the other innocent hobbies Little Miles enjoyed.

So when Ma forces Little Miles onto them for a day, the twins instantly know one thing for sure.

This little twerp was gonna ruin everything.

———

“Okay! I just got confirmation!” 1610-Miles exclaimed as he typed away on his phone.

Miles-42 looked down from the top bunk. “About what?”

“Gwen, Hobie, and Pav are all free. They’ll DEFINITELY meet up with us later.” 

“Ugh, good. I was wondering when their asses were gonna reply back.”

As they chilled in their bedroom, the twins felt excited by what was happening later. After all, a hangout with their friends at the skatepark was something they were anticipating for a while. Especially after the hell they went through to get to that point.

Every time they wanted to go out with friends, there was always something. Chores, family plans, punishments, you name it. But now, after long days of being good and being on best behavior, the twins could leave the house at last.

And it was going to be the best day ever.

“You did let Ma and Dad know that we were going, right?” 42-Miles asked warily, knowing that their parents were picky about that type of thing.

“Yup. After they asked fifty-eleven questions about where we were going and who we were going with. But they like our friends, so they’re not worried.”

“Really? Even Gwen? White girl Gwen?” Miles-42 asked, smirking.

His twin frowned. “What do you mean?? They LOVE Gwen!”

“Cap. She calls them by their first names. They call her emo. I don’t think they love that.”

“Ugh. Are you ever gonna let that go? She doesn’t do that anymore.” 

“Sureeee.”

Before 1610-Miles could reply, his phone started to buzz, making him jump with a noticeable blush on his face.

“Wait! She’s calling! SHHHH!”

Miles-42 lifted his hand up in a motionless shrug, frowning. “I’m not even talking–”

Just then, 1610-Miles put the phone to his ear with a wide grin. “Heyyy, Gwen! What’s up?”

Miles-42 sighed as his twin began to talk away on the phone. After a few seconds, he got up. Now that his twin was on the phone, nothing was going to stop his idiotic blabbing until he hung up. And 42 didn’t want to stick around for that.

As he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway however, 42 was greeted by someone even more annoying. Little Miles was standing in the doorway, fist raised as if he was about to knock before 42 opened the door.

Miles-42 froze, not expecting the sudden visitor, before crossing his arms. “What do you want, bichito?”

Little Miles leaned to the side to look around 42 before looking up at him, with accusatory eyes.

“Spidey’s missing.” he stated.

Miles-42 raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. But when Little Miles didn’t say anything, 42 sighed. 

“Um… okay? What’s that got to do with me?” he asked, bewildered.

“I had him a few hours ago, when I came to your room and called you guys down for lunch.” Little Miles rattled off, barely letting 42 get his question out, as if he was waiting for him to say that. “That’s the last time I remembered having Spidey. I think I left him in your room.”

Miles-42 blinked before narrowing his eyes and leaning on the doorframe. “You think or you know?”

“I’ll know when I look.” Little Miles said dismissively as he suddenly moved to walk into the room.

But before he could, Miles-42 quickly pushed him back, pushing him on the forehead with two fingers.

“Oh no you don’t.” He scoffed. “Who do you think you are, barging into my room??”

“I KNOW you have Spidey!” Little Miles exclaimed with a frown, stomping his foot. “I want him back!”

“We don’t HAVE your stupid toy for the love of God!” Miles-42 replied, his temper rising.

“Yes you do!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh!”

“NUH-UH!”

“YUH-HUH!”

“NUH-UH!”

“YUH-HUH!”

“NUH-UH!”

“YUH-HUH!”

“CAN Y’ALL CUT IT OUT?!” 1610-Miles shouted from inside. “I’M ON THE PHONE! Huh? Oh, sorry ‘bout that, Gwen, I’m here. … Yeah we can definitely…”

At this point, Little Miles was trying to run around Miles-42, who was quickly blocking his maneuvers. Soon, Little Miles started trying to push 42 out of the way (which ended up being useless, as 42 was a good foot and a half taller than him).

“Let… me… IN!” he shouted, as he grabbed 42’s legs and pulled, to no avail.

“Get off of me, you freak! What is wrong with— OW! STOP.”

Finally having enough, Miles-42 picked up Little Miles and carried him away from the door, holding him like he was nothing more than a football.

“LET ME GO! PUT ME DOWN!” Little Miles hollered.

Finally, 42 set him down in front of his bedroom, before glaring.

“OUT.” He yelled, popping the T.

Little Miles groaned angrily. “I’m telling Mami! I’m telling her that you are being mean, and you took away Spidey, and— and you’re—”

“And, and, and, and!” 42 said in a squeaky voice, mocking Little Miles before he stared at him with a dead expression and spoke in his normal voice. “Shut up. You’re such a snitch.”

Little Miles stood still, clenching and unclenching his hands. And after a moment, he started to breathe hard. Knowing what was going to happen, 42’s mouth opened, looking him up and down.

“You little bitch, you wouldn’t DARE—”

“WAHHHH!!!!”

42 closed his eyes painfully as Little Miles started crying, while silently cursing to himself. The last thing he wanted was for Ma to actually come by and lay on him for “hurting her poor baby”.

“Hey. Shhhh!” He whispered in an attempt to shut his brother up. 

But Little Miles kept crying, starting to drop down to the ground in a sitting position. Meanwhile, Miles-42 put his face in his hands, sighing heavily.

“Why me?” He muttered to himself.

Just then, he heard soft footsteps behind him, as well as Little Miles’s cries quieting. And as 42 looked up in confusion, he saw Little Miles getting up.

“Spidey?” Little Miles asked.

Miles-42 turned around to see Meows, sitting on his hind legs. And in between his jaws was Spidey, dangling from his teeth like a caught mouse.

Before any of them could react, Meows scampered away and down the hall. Instantly afterwards, Little Miles chased him, suddenly forgetting about his tears and about his brother

And as Miles-42 stood there, absolutely speechless, he could only think one thing. 

That little shit.

———

“How mad would Ma and Dad be if we put Miles up for adoption?”

“… what??”

Miles-42 sat on his bed, looking down at his twin. “I mean, think about it! Who would miss him? If anything, it’d be doing us a favor! We wouldn’t be stumbling across his toys and we wouldn’t have to be dealing with his meltdowns—”

“You can’t do that, P… The paperwork would be way too complicated.” 1610-Miles replied, rolling his eyes.

“But I can’t DEAL with that little shit anymore!” Miles-42 groaned dramatically as he flopped back on the bed. “If he comes by any more today, I’m going to LOSE IT.”

“Chill, man!” 1610-Miles sighed, as he got up and walked towards the closet. “You don’t gotta worry about that! It’s not like you’ll see him that much anyways, since we’re leaving soon.”

Miles-42 thought about it before relenting. “Yeah… you have a point. Okay. I’ll stop.”

“Good.” His twin replied as he rummaged around in the closet before turning around with two hoodies. “Because I REALLY need input on what I’m wearing.”

Slowly, 42 peeked out from the top bunk, looking closely at the options before his eyes narrowed.

“Wait… IS THAT MY JACKET?!” He shouted.

1610-Miles winced slightly, as he deflated. “Ugh. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

———

It was finally time.

Once an hour came by, and all the “on the way” texts started flooding in, the twins were finally ready.

As they walked down the hallway, going over the plan and joking, both of them felt rather carefree. No homework, no chores, no responsibilities. Just them and their friends. What could go wrong?

That question was answered when Ma stopped them at the door.

“And where are you two going?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Instantly, the twins froze, taken by surprise. Quick glances to each other followed afterwards, mostly 42 shooting his twin an accusatory look.

I thought you told her! 42-Miles accused him silently.

I did! 1610-Miles replied silently.

“Well?” Ma pressed, waiting for an answer.

Both of the twins looked forward, instantly saying a reply together. “Out.”

Ma frowned at that. “Out where? ”

Miles-42 cleared his throat. “Ma, remember when we told you we’re gonna meet up with our friends at the skatepark? That’s where we’re going.”

Ma was quiet before crossing her arms. “Right now?”

The twins gave each other another look before saying, “Yeah…”

At that, Ma clapped her hands together with a smile. “Perfect!”

At that, the twins visibly sagged in relief. For a minute they were worried that Ma was going to pull some kind of twist on them—

“You can bring your brother too!”

The twins snapped up in an instant with wide eyes. “WHAT?!”

At that moment, Little Miles skipped into the room and went up to Ma, wearing his “going out” outfit and having Spidey in hand. 

“I know you two will do a good job looking out for your little brother.” Ma chirped, oblivious to the shock and anger on the twins’ faces. “Now, don’t stay out too late. I want all of you back here before 9—”

“Ma. I think there’s been a misunderstanding!” 1610-Miles said quickly, “It’s just the two of us going out! We’re not taking Miles with us.”

Ma frowned. “What do you mean you’re not taking Miles? It’s your turn to babysit, you know this.”

“But we can’t!” 42 exclaimed, “Why don’t you ask Miles to watch him?”

“Your brother is busy. He’s studying for a science test. Your dad’s at the station all day, and I’m working a shift. You’re watching your brother.” Ma said firmly.

The twins groaned. “But, Ma!”

“Unless you want to watch him at home?” Ma immediately asked, frowning. “Because I’ll be happy to fulfill that wish.”

In a second, the twins knew what look Ma was giving them: the Mom Stare. That meant that they were two seconds away from pissing her off and two seconds away from a cruel and unusual punishment.

And as much as they dreaded the thought of watching Little Miles, they dreaded canceling their plans even more.

So in defeat, the twins stopped protesting and deflated.

“Okay. We’ll take him.” 1610-Miles sighed.

“Good.” Ma said, dropping the look and back to smiling. “Now, be safe and have fun!”

But as the twins eyed Little Miles warily, thinking of the dreadful hours ahead with him, they doubted if they were going to have any fun at all.

———

Everyone knew that the twins were tight. After all, it came with the twin benefits. Not only did they look scarily alike, but they also did everything together. In fact, they were often dubbed the “evil twins”, always scheming together.

Were they the “evil twins”? Yes. Were they the “evil twins plus their evil little brother”? Hell no.

Little Miles was not a part of their crew, and never has been. But as he strolled alongside them, trying desperately to look cool, it was clear Little Miles was trying to be. And failing.

“Boom! It’s the three of us! The cool crew!” He said excitedly as he walked. “What are we doing first?”

At that, both P and S stared at him, frowning with their mouths open. Clearly done, Miles-42 looked away, while 1610-Miles tried to be more sympathetic. Or, in this case, understanding.

“Skatepark.” 1610-Miles answered.

“Skatepark! Nice! Hey, guess what? I’m a MASTER at skating. I got a fresh pair of skates too! They’re really rad!”

“Uh…. Cool?” 1610-Miles said slowly, side-eyeing him.

“Uh-huh! And you know what else? I’m so good at skating that they gave me a special nickname for my coolness. Wanna know what it is?”

“No, actually, I really don’t—” 42-Miles growled.

“SPIN! Because I be spinning around the block!” Little Miles said with a grin.

1610-Miles blinked, taken aback. “That… doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

Little Miles ignored the comment. “So, when you’re around your friends, you don’t have to introduce me as Miles. Just call me Spin. The coolest cat around!”

“ Dios mio.” Miles-42 muttered as he put his face in his hands.

Meanwhile, 1610-Miles flashed a pained fake smile. “Greaaat! Uh— Hey, I gotta talk to twin for a few seconds, so do you mind walking in front of us for a while?”

Little Miles brightened. “Sure! Or as the cool kids would say, okie dokie!”

With that, Little Miles walked faster, leaving the twins behind to talk alone. Once he was out of earshot, Miles-42 lifted his head up, glaring.

“No one even SAYS that!” He whisper-shouted.

1610-Miles sighed. “Look. I know it’s bad, but don’t worry! We can fix this!”

“How, dumbass?” 42 hissed, “The SECOND we bring him around, he’s going to embarrass us with his lame-ass jokes and his weird-ass behavior! We’ll never be able to show our faces anywhere again!”

S opened his mouth to protest before finally deflating with wide eyes. “Oh my god… you’re right. Oh, Gwen and them are gonna laugh at us so badly…. We’re done for!”

42 looked ahead, frowning at Little Miles walking ahead and oblivious to the conversation they were having.

“Not if we dump him.” He said suddenly.

“What???” His twin gawked.

42 turned to him, face serious. “Hear me out… we find a nearby park or some kiddy shit around here, and we just leave him there.”

1610 glared before saying sarcastically, “Ahh, yes. Ma would LOVE that!”

“We wouldn’t leave him there forever, bozo.” 42 sighed, annoyed that his twin wasn’t getting it. “He’ll only stay there from when we drop him off to after we’re done hanging out with our friends. Simple as that.”

1610-Miles contemplated it for a moment. “I don’t know. That seems… kind of mean.”

Miles-42 frowned, looking him up and down. Finally after a while, he gave up on it and shrugged. “Your choice.”

“Ooh! Guys!” Little Miles suddenly said as he turned around. “Wanna hear my rapping?”

The twins frowned. “Your… what??”

But before they knew it, Little Miles was beatboxing.

“Yo, it’s the coolest tyke on the playing ground

Don’t mess with me or you’ll get taken to town

I’m too cold I don’t need no disrespect

‘Cause your words aren’t cool, they’re too weak to affect

I’m out with my bros they know what’s up

Knowing me since the days I had a sippy cup

So know the greatest, that’s me, the too cool gent

Bow down to the king: Lil Spin, represent!”

“WHAT WHAT!” Little Miles shouted once he finished. “Mic. Drop. Boom!”

The twins could only stare at him in what seemed to be mild second-hand embarrassment, which Little Miles didn’t notice as he turned back around. And after a few more seconds, S nodded to himself.

“You know what? Nevermind. Let’s do it.”

…

Soon, after a quick search on the maps app on 42’s phone, the twins found a place near the skatepark for Little Miles. It was a small playground, clearly meant for infants and small children. And with it only being a few minutes away and viewable from the skatepark, it was perfect.

But, Little Miles didn’t look happy with it.

“I don’t understand.” He said slowly, as he watched little kids climb over the play equipment and squealing. “I thought we were going to the skatepark.”

He then looked back at his brothers, as 42 shrugged.

“Well, there’s a change of plans. We’re hanging out here instead.” He replied.

Little Miles raised an eyebrow questioningly, as he looked around again.

“Really? I don’t think you guys would love this place. It smells like mulch and baby barf.”

The twins exchanged looks before 1610-Miles said, “Nahhh. What do you mean? This place is the coolest of the cool. All the cool cats hang out here!”

Little Miles set them with a dead expression, not buying it. Just then, both of the twins’ phones buzzed, signifying the group text that their friends had arrived.

“Alright, bichito.” 42 said as he backed up slowly. “We’re gonna go and see if our friends are here. You stay here, okay? Save us a spot on the swings or something.”

Little Miles blinked, eyeing the swings. And for a moment, the twins were worried that he wasn’t going to believe them. But after a moment, Little Miles grinned.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure NOBODY gets on the swingset! I’ll tell them it’s reserved for the cool kids.” He said confidently.

At that, the twins sighed softly in relief.

“Yeah, you do that. Just don’t leave the park.” 1610-Miles replied.

Little Miles saluted him. “Sir yes sir!”

And with that, Little Miles ran away to the swings, leaving the twins alone.

“Come on, let’s go!” 42 said quickly as he started to leave.

But, his twin was a little more hesitant. “I feel bad. Won’t he get lonely?”

After he said that though, the twins looked over to see Little Miles waving off and kicking at a little girl with pigtails, telling her she was “too uncool” to be on the swings.

“He’s fine.” 42 answered. “Now, hurry up!”

Finally, the twins left, quickly crossing the street towards the skatepark. And once they reached it, all thoughts of Little Miles went out the window as they saw their friends waiting for them.

“Oye! Miles!” Pav shouted with a wave.

“Man like P! BIG STEPPA!” Hobie yelled.

“We were wondering where you two were!” Gwen laughed.

Wearing equal grins, the twins greeted their friends with waves and daps.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” 1610-Miles replied, “But we’re here now!”

“So let’s get this shit popping, eses!” 42 exclaimed.

———

When they first made up the plan, the twins planned to stay for around half an hour before checking up on their little brother.

But, as it turned out, a half hour changes into one really quickly. And one changes into one and a half even quicker. But to be fair, when people like Pavitr were making crazy tricks on the skateboard or when people like Hobie were telling crazy stories about the shit they’ve done, it’s kind of hard to keep track of time.

So, as they sat by the railings lining the skatepark, the twins had completely forgotten about their little brother. That is, until they are rudely reminded.

It had started with a text from Ma, coming with a buzz on 1610-Miles’s phone. At the moment, Hobie was telling a really good story about the time he ran from cops. So, half-paying attention, S took a glance at his phone and the text:

Mami: Hi mijo! Hope you guys are having fun! Reminder that your little brother’s bedtime is at 9:30 pm so he might be a little cranky. Make sure he doesn’t fall asleep on the way back!

At first, 1610-Miles barely read the text, and put his phone down. But then, the words finally registered, especially three little ones.

Your little brother.

With a breakneck speed, he grabbed the phone again, reading the text more closely. After a few moments, dread started to sink in. But, as Miles looked up at the playground across the street, something made that dread turn into fear.

Little Miles wasn’t on the swings. He was gone.

Instantly, Miles turned his head towards his twin, who was completely oblivious and listening to Hobie describing how he had to jump down a flight of stairs while simultaneously avoiding the cops trying to grab him. Which meant he didn’t know that Little Miles was gone and currently God knows where. So Miles did the best he could to grab his attention.

First, he tapped him on the shoulder. 42 didn’t notice.

He flicked him on the elbow. 42 swatted him away.

He shook his shoulder. 42 slapped him harshly on the hand.

At this point, Miles had enough. So after he looked up to make sure Pav and Gwen were too engrossed in the story to notice, Miles started to whisper.

“P. P!” He whisper-shouted.

That earned him a hard slap on the knee, which made him momentarily shut up with pain.

“Stop messing with me, dumbass.” 42 whispered through gritted teeth.

1610-Miles glared. “I’m not! I’m trying to tell you that—”

“Can you just shut up?” 42 growled.

“But, you don’t—”

“Shut up!”

“Will you just let me talk—”

42 finally turned around, fixing him with a glare. “What?!”

“Miles is gone!” His twin whisper-shouted.

Instantly, 42’s irritation zapped away, leaving dread in its place.

“What do you mean he’s gone ?!” He hissed.

Without saying a word, his twin pointed at the playground. 42 squinted, trying to see, before shaking his head.

“Just because he’s not on the swings doesn’t mean he’s not there. He could be on the slide or some shit.”

1610-Miles looked at the playground again. From what he gathered, the park looked to be empty. But what ultimately confirmed his suspicions wasn’t the park, but what was near it.

Which was a park ranger putting down a sign saying “CLOSED”.

And it seemed like 42 noticed that too, as 1610 looked to see his face completely blanched. As they shared a collective look of horror, it seemed like their futures were playing in their mind.

Little Miles was gone. The twins would come home with no brother. Ma would kill them. They would never see their brother again. Their little brother could have been kidnapped.

Or worse.

“FUCKKKK!!!!”

Instantly, everyone jumped, as the scream came from Miles-42 (and mentally from 1610). As Pav and Gwen gave him concerned looks, Hobie whistled lowly.

“Damn. Didn’t know you were THAT invested in my story.” He mused. 

Ignoring the comment, both the twins jumped up.

“We gotta find him!” 42 exclaimed.

“And look where?! Where could he have gone??” 1610 replied, panicking.

“He couldn’t have gone far. Fuck , what are we gonna—”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Gwen interjected. “What’s wrong, you guys look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

The twins stared at their friends then at each other. As of now, their friends had no idea that Little Miles was even here, let alone missing. But, with their brother’s safety on the line, they had to know.

So, the twins replied with, “Our brother’s missing.”

The three friends frowned in unison, seemingly doing a double take.

“Um… is this one of those twin things I don’t get?” Pav slowly asked. “‘Cause you’re right next to each other!”

“Not us!” 1610-Miles sighed, “Our other brother. We have a little brother.”

Hobie raised an eyebrow. “He… wouldn’t happen to be named Miles, would he?”

42-Miles blinked, taken aback. “Yeah, actually. How did you know?”

Hobie glanced between the twins, who were also identically named Miles, before shrugging. “Lucky guess.”

“Your little brother… Did he come with you guys to the skatepark?” Gwen asked.

“Kind of. We left him at the playground nearby.” 1610-Miles explained.

The three looked in the distance towards the playground he was referring to. And after a while, Hobie cringed.

“That wasn’t smart. That lot always closes early. If your brother was there before, he’s definitely gone now.”

At that, the twins really started to panic, as they folded into themselves simultaneously with pained groans.

“What are we gonna do?! Miles is gone and Ma’s gonna kill us!” 1610-Miles whined.

“We’re so fucked.” Miles-42 groaned.

Their friends could only stand there, watching them with concern. That is, until Gwen frowned in determination.

“Well, we don’t know for sure until we look. Come on!”

The twins stood up straight, bewildered.

“Wait what??” 42 asked.

“You’re going to help us?” 1610 asked.

Pav gawked at them. “Is that even a question, dummies?? Of course we’ll help you!”

“For real. Kid’s on the loose and you expect us to leave you hanging?? You got assets here, use ‘em!” Hobie added.

“Now, do you want to find your brother or not?” Gwen questioned, her hands on her hips.

The twins could only show a look of gratitude as they nodded. “Yes!”

———

“MILES! ARE YOU THERE?!” 1610-Miles shouted into a play tunnel.

After confirming that they wanted to help, the twins and their friends raced to the playground to double check if Little Miles was there or not. And as they searched, it seemed like the answer was no.

“You in there, little chap?” Hobie called into a dark slide, the only response he got being an echo of his voice.

“Where are you, tiny Miles?!” Gwen yelled underneath the seesaw.

At that moment, Pav swung down from the top of the monkey bars with a look of disappointment on his face.

“No dice!” He sighed. “Little guy’s definitely gone.”

But, as he said that, 42’s voice yelled from the other side of the playground. “I FOUND SOMETHING!”

Instantly, everyone else stopped what they were doing and raced towards 42’s position, where he held something in his hands.

“Did you find him?” His twin asked worriedly.

42 shook his head. “No. But I found this.”

Everyone looked down at the thing 42 was holding. And although most of them didn’t recognize it instantly, his twin did.

“It’s Spidey!” He gasped.

“Spidey?” Gwen asked.

“His toy. He never goes anywhere without it.” 42 explained.

“Ooh. That’s not good.” Pav murmured.

“Bro…” 1610 whispered as he looked up with wide eyes. “What if he was KIDNAPPED??”

“Don’t be dumb. He wasn’t kidnapped.” 42 insisted.

“Then where could he have gone?!” 1610 exclaimed.

“Well…” Hobie said, thinking about it. “If I was a little kid hanging at the park and I felt a bit gutted by the fact that my brothers abandoned me… I would crack on to the Sugar Rush across the street.”

As soon as the words “Sugar Rush” entered their ears, the twins’ heads snapped up.

“That’s his favorite fast food place!” 42 whispered.

“He’s definitely there then. Let’s go!” 1610 confirmed.

With that, the group left the park and ran towards the intersection. Confirming Hobie’s theory, the pink and blue sign across the street signified the fast food chain waiting on the other side.

As they crossed the street, Hobie spoke again.

“So, mind telling me why you left your brother alone at the park?” He asked the twins.

The twins hesitated before hanging their heads in shame.

“I don’t know. I guess we were… embarrassed.” 1610 admitted.

“Embarrassed?” Pav asked.

“We… originally weren’t supposed to bring him. But our mom forced us to. And he was kind of getting on our nerves, so we dropped him off at the park to get a break from him.” Miles-42 explained, before sighing. “It wasn’t the best decision as you can see.”

Their friends took in their confession, looking at them with a mix of blame and sympathy.

“I get it.” Gwen finally replied. “My little sister annoys me all the time. I hate going anywhere with her because she always gets on my nerves. But, even though we don’t always agree on things… I still love her to death.”

“Same with us! We love our brother to death too!” 1610 insisted.

“Well then, you gotta start acting like it. Starting with not ditching him at kiddy parks.” Hobie casually pointed out.

“Also if it helps, I’d LOVE to meet Little Miles!” Pav said excitedly. “He seems like a cool kid!”

As the twins listened to their friends’ encouragement, they both seemed to arrive at the same conclusion.

“I guess we were too hard on him.” 42 murmured.

“We gotta apologize when we find him.” 1610 declared. “And buy him a bunch of Mighty Meals.”

At that moment, the five finally reached the Sugar Rush building and raced inside. And as they surveyed their surroundings, they found themselves in over their heads.

“There’s kids EVERYWHERE!” Gwen exclaimed.

Sure enough, everywhere they looked, there were kids. Climbing over tables of their annoyed parents, playing in the ball pit, and running around the indoor playplace attached to the restaurant.

“We gotta split up to cover more ground.” 1610 said with determination. “Let’s move!”

With that, the five ran to different areas of the place. Hobie went to check up by the cashier area; Gwen went to check under dirty tables; Pav took a dive in the ball pit; and the twins took to searching the playplace.

“Miles?! Are you in there?” S shouted into one of the slides.

But instead of a response, a bunch of random kids came sliding down instead, trampling him to the ground.

“AGH! Whose kids are these?!” He shouted as they clambered all over them.

Meanwhile, P took to searching the tunnels by climbing into the rope maze leading into the tunnels. But as he inched by, kids crawled past him, elbowing him in the face in the process.

“OOF! Watch it, kid— OW! MOVE! My god, can you stop— OWWWW!” 42 grunted.

Finally, after a pain-filled minute, 42 found himself in the cramped yellow enclosure. Slowly, he crawled by, searching for his brother, until something made him pause.

A shoe was by his hand. And as he picked it up and inspected it, the shoe brand and design instantly gave him hope.

“His Jordans!” 42 gasped. “He must be close.”

With renewed urgency, 42 crawled more into the tunnels, past laughing and crying kids. And eventually, he came across something that made him freeze.

Little Miles was there, huddled in the tunnel.

“BICHITO!” 42 shouted happily. “There you are!”

Little Miles’s head snapped up, looking at 42 with wide eyes.

“P?” He asked softly.

42 waved him over with a relieved smile. But, to his surprise, Little Miles frowned and started to crawl in the other direction, away from 42.

“Miles? Miles! Come back!” He said in a panic, crawling after him.

But, Little Miles crawled faster, making his way towards a slide. And just as 42 caught up, he was in the tube, sliding down to the bottom.

“Crap!” He cursed.

Meanwhile, as 1610-Miles looked in the slide again, Little Miles came flying out and straight into him. As Little Miles sat on top of him, dazed, S lit up with joy.

“MILES! You’re alive! We were so worried!” He exclaimed.

Quickly, Little Miles glared. “That’s a first.”

Before 1610 could react, Little Miles jumped off of him, running towards the rope maze.

“Wait! Miles—!” He gasped, trying to get up.

But at that exact moment, 42 came flying out of the slide, barreling into him. As they laid in a heap, 42 scrambled off of him.

“I found Miles!” 42 wheezed.

“I know!” 1610 replied as he pushed 42 off of him fully. “Let’s go!”

Soon, the twins were up and chasing after Little Miles, as he slipped into the rope maze. But since Little Miles was small and the twins weren’t, he was able to pull ahead of them as they struggled.

But as Little Miles looked back at them, laughing, he suddenly tripped over a rope, trapping his foot in a tangle of ropes. Desperately, Little Miles tried to free his foot as the twins approached slowly.

“Look, Spin.” 1610 said slowly, “We’re sorry—”

“NO! Don’t call me that!” Little Miles bit out, glaring. “Only the cool kids call me Spin. And you’re NOT COOL!”

42 sighed, taking the insult. “We know. And we’re sorry. We didn’t mean to leave you out.”

Little Miles stopped struggling, stopping out of anger. “I’m not mad at that! I’m mad you lied to me! You can’t even tell me that you don’t want me around!”

“I know! And we were stupid for that. We were dumbheads.” 1610 replied.

“Very stinky, uncool, poopy dumbheads.” 42 added.

Little Miles blinked, before a laugh came out at the kindergarten insult. But, he quickly smacked his mouth, trying to mask his amusement.

“We know that we hurt you, bichito.” 42 sighed. “And we’re really sorry. Honestly. You might make us angry sometimes, but at the end of the day, you’re still our brother. And we care about you. We want you around.

“Yeah.” 1610 agreed. “So we’ll do anything to make it up to you. Just please forgive us.”

Little Miles hesitated, thinking about it. Then slowly, he started to smile.

“Anything?” 

———

As the twins stood in front of their audience, they gave each other a determined look.

“You ready for this?” 42 whispered.

His twin nodded with a smirk. “Born ready.”

And with that, they hopped up onto the table together, both of them holding mics.

“WHAT UP, SUGAR RUSH?! HOW’S EVERYONE DOING TONIGHT??” The twins shouted into their mics.

In response, the crowd cheered and whistled, every kid jumping up and down in excitement. And in the front row, their friends and Little Miles cheered with big grins.

“We’d like to dedicate this rap to a very special brother of ours!” 1610 announced.

“Lil Spin’s one of the coolest kids on the block, so give it up for him!” 42 added.

As everyone cheered, Little Miles giggled, jumping up and down. “That’s me!”

Finally, the twins pointed their fingers up in unison. “HIT IT, DJ!”

After they said that, a rap beat started to flow from the speakers, making everyone go wild. And after a quick pause, the twins started to rap.

“Yo, family, the bonds that can't be broken,

A foundation strong, our love outspoken.

Through thick and thin, we ride together,

United by blood, we'll conquer whatever.

From different backgrounds, we bring diversity,

But when we come together, it's pure unity.

Siblings, parents, cousins, and kin,

Through all the struggles, we never give in.

Family, the roots that keep us grounded,

Through highs and lows, our love is astounded.

From day one, we've been holding each other down,

Forever connected, that's how we get around.

So raise a toast to the family ties we hold,

A love that's priceless, worth more than gold.

Through the ups and downs, we'll forever stand,

Family, the foundation of who I am.”

“WHAT WHAT!” The twins shouted, “Mic. Drop.”

And with that, they simultaneously dropped their mics, making the crowd go wild again. With equal grins, the twins jumped down to the ground and walked over to their friends and Little Miles.

“That was AWESOME!” Little Miles squealed. “Best song ever!”

“You really killed it up there, mates! Well done!” Hobie said with a grin.

42 groaned. “Good. Because I’m never doing that again.”

“Hey, we should form a rap duo, don’t you think?” 1610 joked. “We can call ourselves ‘Evil Twins’!”

“Don’t forget Lil Spin!” Little Miles pointed out.

“And Lil Spin too!” 1610 corrected, giving Little Miles a high five.

“I gotta say. Your little brother’s actually pretty cool! You gotta bring him around more.” Pav exclaimed.

“Yeah! Not to mention, he’s so adorable!” Gwen gushed.

Little Miles smirked. “No problem! I’m free whenever Mami says I’m free!”

The twins chuckled before freezing with fear.

“Ay… didn’t Ma say we have to be home right now?” 42 asked.

“AH! We gotta go!” 1610 cried.

And so, after saying their goodbyes and thank yous, the three rushed out of the restaurant, laughing all the way home.

———

So really, how lame was it to deal with a little brother when hanging out with friends?

Well, short answer: the twins wouldn’t know. They dumped their brother before they got the chance.

But ever since that day, the twins came to find out that as annoying as Little Miles was, he could be pretty cool. And they did have a lot more in common than they had thought, like freestyle rapping. 

And at the end of the day, if Ma ever asked them to babysit? The twins would say yes. Without a doubt.

Answer of the day: Not so lame (when he isn’t throwing a tantrum)

Chapter Text

Question of the day: How bad of an idea is it to ask your annoying little brothers for help with a crush?

The answer to that was more than clear for Older Miles. A very VERY bad idea. Catastrophic, if you will. Especially if you had siblings like his. Not only were their rizz skills completely non-existent, but they also didn’t understand the concept of flirting with a girl and having it work.

But when Older Miles finds himself with a crippling crush, he gets desperate very quickly. And sometimes, desperate times called for desperate measures.

If only the desperate measures didn’t involve little brothers acting as your wingmen….

———

“SERVICE! SERVICEEE!” Little Miles shouted.

As he yelled, he tapped the bell on the counter, making a lot of loud and repetitive chiming. The chimes filled the cafe, prompting a bunch of annoyed and weirded out looks from customers.

Finally, after a few moments, Older Miles snatched the bell away furiously.

“If you don’t stop ringing this, this is going up your butt.” he whispered with narrowed eyes.

Little Miles backed off, eyes wide. “Okay! Yeesh.”

From beyond the counter, Older Miles sighed heavily. Sometimes he wished he didn’t get a job so close to home. Or rather, he wished that he never told his brothers where he worked. Maybe then, he could have been saved from their daily and very stressful visits.

“About TIME you showed up.” Miles-42 said dryly as he typed away on his phone.

“Yeah! It took you a whole 5 minutes to come to us! We wanna order!” Little Miles exclaimed.

Older Miles shot all three of them a glare. “Really? Like you ordered 10 minutes ago??”

1610-Miles shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Don’t know why you’re complaining. You should be thanking us! We’re keeping you in business!”

Older Miles groaned. “Okay, are you gonna order or not?! You’re holding up the line!”

After he said that, the three looked behind them in unison to see absolutely nobody there.

“Wowwww. Busy day today, isn’t it?” Miles-42 said sarcastically.

“For real! The line is out the door!” 1610-Miles remarked with a mocking smile.

“Ugh. Just ORDER! Before I just ignore you.” Older Miles growled.

“Fine!” Little Miles sighed before looking up at the menu. “Uhhh, I want the… cake pop! Wait no! The cupcake. Actually… EWWW! Do you guys REALLY sell egg salad?! Are you trying to POISON people??”

Rolling his eyes, Miles-42 pushed Little Miles aside. “You’re taking forever. Gimme a latte. And make it EXTRA sweet or you’re getting a drink to the face.”

As Older Miles typed out the order into the kiosk, he looked up with a frown. “Some manners would be nice, wouldn’t you think?”

Miles-42 looked at him with a dead expression before smiling unbelievably wide. “Pleaseeee?”

“That’s better.” Older Miles grumbled. “Anything else?”

“Do y’all have any ice cream?” 1610-Miles asked.

Older Miles blinked, clearly done. “Are you dumb?! This is a cafe, not an ice-cream parlor. Of COURSE we don’t sell ice cream!”

“Damn! Chill, it was just a question!” 1610-Miles squeaked before sighing. “Just get me a sandwich or something.”

“And I’ve decided too!” Little Miles declared, “I want two cupcakes. The large double chocolate ones! And a donut too!”

Older Miles frowned. “Yeah, no. You’re getting ONE of those things. I’m not gonna have you come home drugged up with sugar, and have Ma beat my ass because of it.”

Little Miles crossed his arms with a pout. “Fine.”

Finally, once Older Miles finished up the order and they paid, his brothers left with their stuff to go and sit by another table. Tiredly, Older Miles trudged towards the coffee maker, where his coworker, Phin, leaned on the counter, scrolling on her phone.

When he came near, Phin looked up, a smirk spreading on her face. “Damn, molasses. It’s only been a few hours of our shift, and you already look dead.”

Older Miles sighed as he leaned against the counter too. “Yeah, well. Annoying brothers do that to you, I guess.”

“So THAT’S who the three pipsqueaks at the cash register were.” Phin exclaimed before scrunching up her nose. “One of them tried to hit on me.”

Older Miles snapped his head towards her. “They WHAT?!”

“Yeah. The one in cornrows.” Phin confirmed.

Older Miles slapped his forehead, cringing. “Oh my god. He’s such a freak. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. He’s not my type.” Phin replied, a joking smile on her face. “I don’t prefer 15 year olds.”

Older Miles dragged his face down to his cheek. “Sometimes I wish they wouldn’t come here everyday.”

“Well, don’t take it too hard.” Phin reassured him, putting down her phone. “That just means they love your company. It’s kind of sweet.”

“I’m sure Rick loves YOUR company, but he doesn’t come up here everyday bothering you!” Older Miles protested. “Plus, it’s not that sweet when they’re taking every snack and drink in stock.”

Phin shrugged. “Hm. You got a point.”

Just then, the bell rang, indicating a new customer walking in. Without looking, Older Miles got off the counter.

“I’ll take this one. Just as long as it’s NOT my brothers.” he told Phin.

Phin flipped him a thumbs up. “You got it.”

With that, Older Miles went over to the kiosk and reset it, as the customer came up to the counter.

“Hi, welcome to the Morning Mug, what can I get you—”

As Older Miles looked up, he trailed off as he looked into the eyes of the customer. Who happened to be a nice girl he knew very well.

With bright eyes, Older Miles lifted up his hands and signed in ASL, “Hailey! It’s good to see you!”

Hailey smiled before signing back, “You too! Your signing’s gotten better, I see.”

With a chuckle, Older Miles replied with, “I practice. So, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing much. Just college tours and stuff. It’s a pretty uneventful summer.”

“I know right? It’s the same for me. I’m basically going through the motions at this point.”

After their brief conversation, Hailey finally got to ordering. One thing Miles loved about her as a customer was that she always came by with a different order every time he saw her. Whether it was a pink lemonade refresher or a matcha latte with chai and clove, there was something new every single visit.

This time, she had shown him a drink off of Pinterest; it was something called the Mango Tango drink. And even though Miles internally had no idea how to make it, he smiled and told her that he’ll make it for her, no problem.

After she paid and walked over to the waiting area, Miles watched her go. And suddenly, a pit in his stomach began to form, making his body feel warm and weird.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself. Hailey had always fascinated him, ever since they met in middle school. He always admired that even though she was legally deaf, she didn’t let that stand in her way of making friends and becoming a social butterfly. Not to mention, her street art was something akin to a masterpiece every time Miles found it around Harlem.

But did he like her like THAT? More than a friend? No!

… Maybe.

Whatever. It wasn’t like she would like him back IF he did. Right?

“... You wanna get moving on that drink, molasses?”

Phin’s voice suddenly snapped Miles out of his funk, as he whirled around to see Phin with a grin and an eyebrow raised.

“Huh?? Oh, yeah yeah. For sure.”

“Whatcha looking at, player?”

“NOTHING.”

“Sureee.”

Ignoring Phin’s remarks, Miles started on making the Mango Tango. Which, as he found out after a moment, was basically a mango refresher blended with pineapple, ice, and a splash of peach juice. Soon, the drink was ready, and Miles carried it over to the finished drink area.

“Here’s your Mango Tango!” He said as he slid it over to Hailey.

Smiling down at it, Hailey looked up and signed, “Thank you so much!”

With an equal grin, Miles replied, “You should try it. See if I got it right!”

Hailey thought about it for a second before mouthing an “alright” to herself, and grabbed a straw. As she unwrapped it and inserted it into the drink, Hailey took a long sip. And as she did, Miles stared at her anticipatingly, feeling strangely nervous.

But as Hailey’s eyes lit up with delight, that anxiety dissipated quickly, as Miles sighed.

“It’s so good!” She signed with one hand.

“Really??” Miles asked, a bit too loud.

Hailey nodded before signing, “I know I usually get a different drink when I come around, but I might just order this again!”

Miles smiled. “Please do! I loved making it.”

And with that, Hailey left with a wave and a smile, carrying her drink with her out of the cafe. And once again, Miles watched her go, a goofy grin on his face that he couldn’t seem to shake off. That is, until he noticed something.

His brothers had watched Hailey go as well. And when she left completely, they looked back at him with sly grins, instantly making his stomach drop.

“Oh…. no.” Older Miles sighed to himself.

— — —

It wasn’t long before the morning rush of people died down, and Older Miles was let off for break. And with his hour of peace, he wanted nothing more than to relax in the break room in the back.

But, of course, with three pesky brothers, Miles never got a moment of peace.

“What up, loverboy?” Miles-42 asked.

Older Miles nearly jumped off of the couch in fear at the voice, only to realize it was his brothers at the door, all standing there and grinning at him.

“Jesus Christ…” Older Miles muttered to himself before frowning with realization. “Wait… how the hell did you guys get back here?!”

“Phin let us in.” 1610-Miles answered.

“Thanks to me.” Miles-42 added, lifting his eyebrows up and down. “She wants me, for real.”

Older Miles gagged visibly. “Please never say that again.”

Ignoring the comment, the three sauntered in, their grins widening.

“So… how was your shift?” Little Miles asked.

Older Miles frowned before saying, “Nunya. Look, you guys can’t be back here. It’s employees ONLY!”

Once again, his brothers ignored him. And, to push it further, they sat on the couch opposite of him, settling in.

“So…” they said in sync.

Older Miles leaned back with a raised eyebrow, both creeped out and irritated. “So….???”

“What was that girl’s name again?” 1610-Miles asked. “Hannah?”

“Nah. It was Helen or some shit.” 42 countered.

“No?? It was Holly!” Little Miles exclaimed.

“NO.” Older Miles groaned. “You dumbasses. It’s Hailey.”

As soon as “Hailey” left his mouth, the three looked at him again with those large grins, making Older Miles widen his eyes and press his mouth into a thin line.

Crap, he thought to himself, They got me!

“Haileyyy…” the three hummed in unison again.

Older Miles shuddered. “Okay. Y’all are being hella weird.”

“We’re just… curious about your new girl, that’s all.” 1610-Miles stated.

“What are you on?? She’s not my girl!” Older Miles squawked.

“Ah. Is she your bitch?” 42 asked with a raised eyebrow.

“NO! And what the hell?? You don’t go around calling women ‘bitches’, P.” Older Miles retorted.

“But she is your girlfriend, right?” Little Miles asked, tilting his head.

Older Miles opened his mouth, stunned at their audacity.

“NO— Listen. She isn’t my girl. She isn’t my bitch. She isn’t my GIRLFRIEND. I don’t know WHERE y’all are getting these weird ideas, but it needs to stop, okay?” Older Miles snapped at them.

The three looked at each other then at Older Miles.

“I’m sorry… I CAN’T be the only one who saw how you talked to her. Right?” 1610-Miles remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“You guys didn’t even talk! You did this!” Little Miles squeaked before moving his hands around randomly and making random signs.

Older Miles blinked, clearly done. “It’s called sign language.”

“Yeah, but come on now. Where did your ass even LEARN sign language??” Miles-42 pointed out.

Older Miles gaped. “What do you mean?? I’ve ALWAYS known ASL!”

“Did you… learn it for her?” 1610-Miles asked.

“NO!” Older Miles groaned.

“Okay, okay. Don’t get your panties in a twist, bro.” Miles-42 sighed. “Our point is that CLEARLY you have a crush on this bitch. Do you not?”

Older Miles’s eyes widened before shouting. “NOOOOO! I don’t! Damn, you’re gonna make me get tired of this word since you’re making me say it so much.”

“Then don’t say it! ‘Cause we know you like her!” 1610-Miles said smugly.

“Miles and Hailey, sittin’ in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Little Miles teased.

Older Miles put his face in his hands. “I’m tired of y’all.”

At that moment, Phin peeked her head into the break room.

“Um… I hate to break up this family meeting. But, I need your brother back on the clock. Break’s over.” she told them.

Older Miles had never gotten up from a seat faster as he crossed over to the door in seconds. 

“Don’t feel bad. They were JUST leaving.” he said while shooting daggers at his brothers.

Once Phin left, the three got up and passed by Older Miles.

“Well, enjoy your shift. Bet you’re sad Hailey can’t come again, huh?” 1610-Miles taunted.

“Nahhh, bro’s depressed.” Miles-42 added.

“I bet he can’t WAIT to see her again.” Little Miles laughed before making obnoxious kissing noises and puckering his lips.

“GET OUT!!” Older Miles shouted as the three ran away, giggling.

———

At times, Older Miles really hated his brothers’ shenanigans. This time was no different. But it wasn’t just because it annoyed him.

No, it was because what they said totally messed with his head.

Every time he took orders and did his job from then on, their voices circled around in his head like vultures.

You like that bitch, don’t you?

Miles and Hailey, sittin’ in a tree!

Did you learn it for her? (Spoiler alert: he did learn ASL for her.)

And it seemed like every time Miles looked up at the faces of customers, he was seeing Hailey smiling at him. (Also have you ever noticed that she had a gap between her two front teeth? Kind of adorable)

But no matter how many times he accidentally fumbled with the coffee maker or forgot about what he was doing (because he was wondering about what she was doing, of course), and no matter how many times Phin asked if he was good, Miles wasn’t going to let his stupid-ass brothers get into his head.

And for god’s sake, he didn’t have a CRUSH on Hailey Cooper.

(He totally did.)

…

Finally, it all seemed to be crashing down on him when he clocked out of work.

Thankfully, today he had a half-shift, which meant that he didn’t have to work the early evenings. Downside was that his brothers were home, and he was most definitely going to be pestered when he got home.

But, Miles decided to not dwell on that as he grabbed his stuff and left the break room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Phin!” He called to his friend. “Have fun with the evening shift!”

From the other side of the counter, Phin waved with a smile. “Later, Miles. And I would hurry if I were you, before Boss forces you to stay too.”

Miles smiled as he opened the door. “Noted.”

Finally, he stepped out into the summery evening, making his way home. As he walked, humming along to the music playing through his headphones, he expected a normal and uneventful walk home.

That is, until someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind.

As Miles turned around, he could feel his heart drop. Almost instantly, the pit in his stomach and the warm feeling he had came back, especially when Hailey smiled at him.

“Hailey? Heyyy… what’s up?” He asked.

“I was hoping you’d swing by, Miles!” Hailey signed. “There’s something I wanna show you.”

Before Miles could even register it, Hailey had grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him along with her.

“Okay!” AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

Oblivious to Miles’s sudden anxiety, Hailey let go of his hand and started signing to him as they walked.

“That drink you made me this morning really inspired me like nothing else!” She exclaimed. “In fact, it helped me a lot with my art block. I’ve never created an art piece faster!”

Barely registering what Hailey was saying, Miles nodded mindlessly going, “Uh-huh, uh-huh.”

Mentally, Miles was losing his cool, despite his calm exterior. Which was new, because he’s always been a rational person. Maybe his brothers had messed with his brain more than he thought they did.

(He’s TOTALLY beating their asses when he gets home.)

But, all thoughts of his brothers went out of the window, as Hailey came to a stop in front of a brick wall near the cafe, making Miles stop too.

“So… what do you think?” Hailey asked.

Miles stared at the wall, jaw dropped.

It was a spray-paint creation of a girl in swarming colors. Her skin and her Afro puff was a variety of bright colors, as well as her dress. In her hand was a bright orange drink that was eerily similar to the Mango Tango. And it seemed like the only thing that wasn’t a vibrant warm color was her wide smile, the teeth being a pearly white.

A smile that was way too similar to Hailey’s.

As Miles stared at the painting, gobsmacked, a hand waved in his face, snapping him out of it.

“Miles??” The hand signed before Hailey turned him to face her.

“It’s amazing.” Miles whispered in his normal voice.

Hailey frowned in confusion, before Miles realized why and signed with wide eyes.

“It’s amazing.” He repeated.

Hailey’s face cleared. “You think so?”

“Yes! It really is! Wow, and you created this today?? I can’t believe it! You’re an amazing artist.” Miles said excitedly.

Hailey was quiet before smiling softly, a rosy tint to her cheeks.

“Thank you. That means a lot. You kind of inspired me to do it, actually.”

For once, Miles was speechless, both with his voice and his hands.

“I mean, that Mango Tango was delicious.” Hailey continued, “But, you… you’re really sweet to talk to. You’re a good friend, Miles.”

Miles opened his mouth and closed it again.

CLEARLY you have a crush on this bitch, Miles-42’s voice said again in his head.

No. Crap, maybe. 

———

“YES! YES I DO! I DO!” Older Miles cried.

Instantly, all three brothers jumped on the couch, turning around from the show they were watching.

“The fuck?” Miles-42 exclaimed.

“What are you talking about?” 1610-Miles asked.

Older Miles walked over, flopping onto the couch.

“IhaveacrushonHaileywhichisweirdbecauseihavenotfeltlikethisbeforeandicannotstopthinkingaboutherwhatshouldido…” Older Miles rambled.

Little Miles frowned. “Was that English?”

Sighing, Miles-42 paused the TV, turning around to face his brother.

“Talk like a normal person, fool. Before I throw this remote at your head.” He growled.

Older Miles sat up, taking a deep breath. After a few seconds, he calmed enough to speak again.

“I have a crush on Hailey.” He admitted. “Which is weird because I haven’t felt like this before. And I can’t stop thinking about her. What should I do?”

At his confession, his brothers’ eyes widened. But then, to Older Miles’s confusion, 1610-Miles turned to face his two brothers with a smirk on his face.

“I believe both of y’all owe me 5 bucks.” He said smugly.

Miles-42 and Little Miles groaned before digging in their pockets and handing 1610-Miles wads of cash.

“Your ass got lucky.” Miles-42 muttered.

Older Miles watched the exchange play out before his jaw dropped.

“Hold on… were you guys BETTING on me?!” He asked, bewildered.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” 1610-Miles replied as he counted the bills. “It was just to see how long it would take you to admit that you have a crush… HEY! I’m a dollar short!”

Little Miles huffed, muttered “Darn” to himself, and pulled another dollar bill out of his pocket, which 1610-Miles snatched.

“Okay. This was a mistake.” Older Miles sighed as he started to get up.

But before Older Miles could get up fully, Miles-42 was suddenly behind him, pushing him back down.

“Sit your ass down.” he snapped.

Older Miles turned his head around in confusion. “How did you—??”

“So.” 1610-Miles said, crossing his legs together and drawing Older Miles’s attention. “What did it for you?”

Older Miles frowned. “Huh?”

“Your crush on Hailey. What made you tell us about it? What changed between then, when we asked you about it, and now?” 1610-Miles clarified.

Older Miles was quiet before he sighed softly. “I was walking home from work, and we ran into each other. And then, she showed me some art she was working on, and she told me that I inspired her to do it—”

“SAY NO MORE.” 1610-Miles interrupted, making Older Miles shut up. “Show us the art.”

Older Miles’s eyes widened before pulling out his phone. “Alright.”

With a quick tap, he pulled up a photo he took of Hailey’s art. And once again, he could feel the warm buzzy feeling, before he quickly shoved his phone into his brothers’ hands.

The three instantly craned their necks down to look at it. They stared at it for a long time before looking back at Older Miles, who shifted in his seat awkwardly.

“So you’re telling me…” Miles-42 started to say. “That she showed this to you, told you that YOU’RE the reason she made the damn thing… and you DIDN’T marry her on the spot.”

Older Miles closed his eyes and nodded, as if it hurt him to confirm it. “Yeah.”

“Well, it’s official. Your dumbass fumbled the bag.” 42 said matter-of-factly.

“He didn’t just fumble! He threw the bag away!” Little Miles added.

“Okay, I get it!” Older Miles groaned. “Jeez, aren’t you guys supposed to make me feel BETTER?!”

“No?” 1610-Miles answered as he gave back the phone. “We’re here to make you admit your mistake. And we’re gonna make things better.”

“But how??” Older Miles asked, frustrated. “I don’t know what to do! I like her but we only talk like once a day! And I can’t just PROPOSE to her, hello?! Not to mention, it’s like I can’t even function anymore—”

Suddenly, Older Miles’s voice was muffled by 1610-Miles’s hand.

“Okay, the FIRST thing we’re doing is not that.” he sighed. “Some advice: You’re not pulling anybody if you’re over here sweating the small stuff.”

“Yup! You’re thinking WAY too much about this.” Little Miles mused. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Just TELL her you like her!”

“Hell no.” Miles-42 replied, frowning at Little Miles. “This isn’t kindergarten, you can’t just give her a love note and have it all work out.”

Older Miles raised an eyebrow, before taking 1610-Miles’s hand off his mouth. “Then what should I do?”

“You want the truth?” 1610-Miles asked before shrugging. “You gotta MAKE her like you. And we can help with that… for a price.”

Older Miles blinked. “A price?”

“Yes! You gotta PAY for the services, my guy. The Rizzlers don’t give out their services for FREE!” 1610-Miles exclaimed.

“The Rizzlers—” Older Miles started to say, dumbfounded.

“$15 each. Upfront.” Miles-42 interrupted. “That’ll be your security deposit.”

“SECURITY DEPOSIT—”

“Do you want help or not?” Little Miles piped up.

“Kid’s right. Our way or no way.” 1610-Miles stated.

Older Miles thought about it for a moment before whining, “Isn’t there like a family discount?”

“... We can settle for $10 each.”

“TEN DOLLARS— Tch. Deal.”

And as they shook on it, Older Miles couldn’t help but wonder about the mess he just got into.

— — —

After they made the deal, and Older Miles grudgingly gave over a good portion of his paycheck, the four all moved upstairs to his bedroom for the first lesson.

“Alright, student!” 1610-Miles declared. “Listen up, ‘cause we’re going over this once. And we can’t afford to waste time, understand?!”

Older Miles sat on his bed, raising his eyebrows. “Okay, first of all, I’m not a student—”

“QUIET!”

Older Miles glared but reluctantly closed his mouth.

“First rule.” 1610-Miles explained. “Flirting’s not an easy game to play. And when you actually wanna rizz up someone, you gotta be an all-star player. BUT, flirting comes naturally when you keep in mind that there are three key factors to it.”

As he said that, Miles-42 was holding a laptop, facing it towards Older Miles, where a slideshow was being presented. And after he finished, Miles-42 clicked onto the next slide, providing more information.

“These three factors are straightforward.” 1610-Miles continued before pointing at the screen and at the three categories. “Confidence, Looks, and most importantly, Rizz. The first two make up the third: Confidence plus Looks equals Rizz.”

Miles-42 and Little Miles stayed quiet, nodding along. Meanwhile, Older Miles looked at the three of them with his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows scrunched together.

“Okay…??” he replied.

1610-Miles then surveyed his brother before saying, “In your case… you definitely got the Looks. But, what you’re LACKING is Confidence. And you can’t have one without the other, so without it… you got no Rizz.”

Older Miles looked annoyed. “Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. BUT, with our help, we can do some… damage control.” 1610-Miles mused. “We can teach you some techniques, and see what sticks.”

“Techniques?” Older Miles asked. “What is this, dance class?”

“Yes! A dance class of love!” Little Miles answered.

Older Miles put two fingers on the bridge of his nose. “Ay, Dios.”

Soon, 1610-Miles moved on over to sit beside Older Miles. 

“Let’s start off easy,” he offered. “How about… the Shoulder Touch?”

Older Miles looked at him, confused. “The what??”

Meanwhile, Miles-42 nodded with a knowing smile. “Ah. A classic.”

“Yup. Plus, it’s a great way to get more… hands-on with her.” 1610-Miles added.

Older Miles looked at them with a vague sense of fear. “The more you guys are describing this, the more I feel uncomfortable.”

1610-Miles hit him on the arm. “Get your mind out of the gutter! It’s not that deep! It’s something Uncle Aaron uses, you know?”

“It is?” Older Miles asked.

“Yeah. He taught it to me, actually. Says it’s certified science.” 1610-Miles said smugly.

Older Miles raised an eyebrow. “Okay… what do you do, then?”

“Simple. All you gotta do is look her in the eye…” 1610-Miles said as he looked at his brother intently. “Put a hand on her shoulder.” He puts a hand on his brother's shoulder. “Smile REALLY nice, and go…”

After a few seconds of silence, 1610-Miles finally smirked slyly. “Hey.”

Older Miles stared at him. “That— that’s it?”

“Nah…” 42 replied as he shoved his twin aside. “You’re doing it all wrong, fool.”

“No I’m not?!” 1610-Miles squawked.

“Ignore him.” 42 said to Older Miles. “Imma show you the right way.”

Once again, 42 put a hand on Older Miles’s shoulder, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them slightly with a serious yet flirtatious expression.

“Hey.” he murmured.

Older Miles blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Woah.”

Instantly breaking his expression, 42 grinned at his twin, who stood there with his arms crossed.

“That SUCKED.” 1610-Miles growled.

42 got up, his grin growing wider. “Tell that to my hoes.”

“What HOES, my guy?”

“We get it! You’re both good at it!” Little Miles groaned before getting on the bed. “Now it’s my turn!”

Little Miles put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, prepared for a brief moment, then slightly pouted with barely open eyes.

“Hey.” he said.

After a second, the three bursted out laughing.

“Oh my god!” Older Miles cackled.

“My brother, what are you doing with your lips?” 42 wheezed.

Little Miles looked offended. “HEY! Mine was good?!”

1610-Miles patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah… stick to looking cute, lil bro.”

Little Miles crossed his arms, frowning. Meanwhile, everyone looked at Older Miles expectantly, who slowly stopped laughing.

“Why are you guys staring at me?” he asked.

“It’s your turn, bro.” 1610-Miles answered. “We wanna see what we’re working with!”

Older Miles cringed slightly. “Uhh… alright.”

42 sat on the bed again. “Do it on me. Being the best one at it, I can judge you better than these bozos can.”

“HEY!” His two brothers shouted.

Older Miles, meanwhile, was debating on how he was going to do this. Should he smile? Should he keep a straight face? Or should he do whatever the hell Little Miles did??

But finally, he put a hand on 42’s shoulder, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened his eyes with an awkward smile.

“Hey…” he said slowly.

42 looked at him with a dead expression before smacking him on the cheek.

“OW! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!” Older Miles yelled.

“Nothing. It’s just what Hailey is gonna do if you come up to her with this dumb shit.” 42 simply replied.

Older Miles rubbed his cheek with a sigh. “What did I do wrong?”

“A lot. First of all, what are you trying to do exactly, are you trying to rizz her up or tell her that you’re being held CAPTIVE.” 42 asked.

“I think it’s the captive one.” Little Miles answered.

Older Miles narrowed his eyes. “Damn. What gave it away?”

“Bro, you’re smiling like you’re in PAIN.” 1610-Miles told him.

“And I can literally feel you shaking from your hand on my shoulder.” 42 deadpanned.

Older Miles took his hand off his shoulder instantly, looking mildly upset.

“So, what’s your point?” he challenged.

“We’re saying…” 1610-Miles said, shaking his head. “That we got a LOTTA work to do, playboy.”

— — —

The rest of that day, for Older Miles, was spent being schooled by his own brothers in the areas of Confidence and “Rizz”. And unfortunately, Older Miles would be lying to himself if he told himself that everything they were teaching him wasn’t at least a little useful.

But from “Shoulder Touches” to “Pick-Up Lines” to “Secrets to Achieving W Rizz”, Older Miles’s head was spinning with the amount of info they were dumping on him. Which is why when it was time for dinner, he cut the training program short.

Fast-forward to the next day, now Older Miles was getting unbelievably and stupidly anxious as he walked into the Morning Mug cafe for his shift. After all, so much had changed in the past day. Before, he always looked forward to Hailey walking inside the cafe. But now, he was dreading her arrival.

And it was clearly noticeable, as his brothers came up to the kiosk to support him. His own freaking brothers.

“Remember what we taught you, bro.” 1610-Miles said to him with a serious look. “Looks. Confidence. Rizz. That’s all you need.”

Older Miles took to obsessively organizing the things around the register to dissipate his nerves, only half-listening to what his brother was saying. “Uh-huh!”

“Also, no awkward smiles. And DEFINITELY no nerd behavior, got it?” 42 added.

“Don’t forget the Shoulder Touch!” Little Miles chirped.

“Yeah yeah, got it. Are y’all gonna order something or what?” Older Miles snapped.

But at that moment, the entrance bell rang. And as Older Miles looked over to see who it was, he felt the whole world stop.

Hailey was walking in.

“Oh my god. She’s early.” Older Miles hissed.

The three looked back, confused, before looking back at him with realization.

“No, no, no, noooo. I can’t do this!” Older Miles panicked.

“Hey! Chill out! It’s not that hard, bro, you got it.” 1610-Miles said quickly.

“Yeah, just talk to her and DON’T be a pussy.” 42 scolded.

As Hailey settled into line behind them, the three looked at each other.

“... Damn, son! That’s the fifth bitch you pulled today!” 1610-Miles shouted loudly.

“W Rizz, for real!” 42 added.

Older Miles’s head snapped up. “The fuck are you guys doing?”

“Helping you, dumbass.” 1610-Miles muttered lowly before saying in a loud voice, “Yeah! Bro’s majestic. You gotta show me how you pull one day.”

“Yeah… bro!” Little Miles exclaimed.

Older Miles sighed, not even bothering to mention that Hailey didn’t hear a word they were saying.

“Just go.” he muttered.

1610-Miles glanced back before saying, “Alright. Catch you later, man!”

Finally, the three left, and soon Hailey was approaching with a smile and a wave. Meanwhile, Older Miles took a deep breath.

She’s coming. Be cool, man. Be COOL!

Gauging the distance between them, Older Miles reached his hand out and put it on Hailey’s shoulder, taking her by surprise. He then glanced over at his brothers at a nearby table, all of whom were mouthing at him and giving him sultry looks in an attempt to guide him through it.

Finally, Older Miles stared at Hailey and put on his best flirty face.

“Hey.” he said in a deep voice.

Hailey slightly frowned, her smile faltering, looking more confused if anything. But after a while, she spoke aloud.

“Hi?”

Instantly, Older Miles realized what he was doing and how weirded out Hailey was, before quickly pulling back his hand. Frantically, his mind went through the advice he was given before recalling the ASL he learned last night for this moment.

“What’s good with you, mama?” he signed, with a casual smirk on his face.

Now Hailey was really taken aback, as she raised her eyebrows. Slowly, she signed back, “Nothing much. You?”

Older Miles leaned onto the counter casually before signing, “I’m just chilling.”

Hailey nodded slowly before suddenly widening her eyes. “Wait, I totally forgot to tell you something! Some art fanatic saw the work I showed you yesterday, and he loved it so much he told his higher-ups about it. Some serious names could be looking at my art soon!”

Older Miles’s eyes widened with delight and pride for Hailey. But before he could sign his congratulations, he saw his brothers out of the corner of his eye, shaking their heads frantically.

“No nerd shit!” 42 mouthed.

Older Miles quickly looked back at Hailey before putting on a dispassionate face.

“Damn, that’s crazy.” he replied. “Good for you, ma.”

“Thanks…” Hailey answered, smiling but clearly expecting more.

But, Older Miles looked at her with indifference on his face, making Hailey’s smile lessen even more.

“I… wanted to ask you a favor. I was wondering if you could give me your—”

Older Miles’s eyes grew wide before interrupting. “Let me stop you right there. I know what you’re gonna ask.”

Hailey blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. But, I want you to do it first. Run your digits for me, ma.”

Hailey frowned. “Wait what?”

“Give me your number. Maybe we can talk later when I get off. Or… we could do more than talking.” Older Miles clarified, narrowing his eyes playfully at the last sentence.

Hailey frowned at that. “Okay, but… could I order my drink first?”

Older Miles blinked before saying, “Yeah yeah.”

As Hailey got out her phone and pulled up her order, she seemed less enthusiastic than Older Miles thought she would be. And for a minute, Miles doubted what he was doing.

That is, until he looked up at his brothers, who were giving him thumbs-ups and large smiles.

Finally, after Hailey showed her order (another Mango Tango), she paid quickly and started to leave. But before she could, Older Miles tapped her on the shoulder and handed her sticky notes and a pen.

“Your number?” he asked.

Hailey blinked before grabbing the notes. Hastily, she scribbled down her number on one of the sticky notes before handing them back quickly.

“Thanks, mama. And don’t worry. Imma make sure your drink tastes as good as I do.” Older Miles signed.

At that, Hailey didn’t even respond, looking away with wide eyes as she waited for her order. And as soon as he turned around, Older Miles’s smirk morphed into a horrified grimace.

“Oh god.” he whispered to himself.

Meanwhile, Phin watched him with a concerned look. “You don’t look happy. What were you doing over there?”

“Nothing!”

As he turned away from Phin, Miles quickly made the order, throwing ingredients into the blender and preparing a cup. Not once had he ever felt so… wrong. It felt like he was taken over by something and only getting control back just now. After all, what he said earlier were things he’ve never said before.

He never called girls “Ma” (except for his mom). And he NEVER told girls to “run their digits”. And, WHAT even was that last line?!

“Miles!”

“Yeah?” he asked, suddenly looking at Phin.

Phin pointed to the ground. “You dropped your cup.”

Miles looked at the ground before sighing and picking up the cup.

“And you got the blender running a little too long, don’t you think?” Phin asked.

Panicked, Miles turned to look at the blender, before quickly stopping it. He then hurriedly poured the contents into the cup, capped it haphazardly, and brought it to the finished drink area.

As he slid it over to Hailey, she picked it up along with a straw, muttered a quick “thanks”, and left the cafe, leaving as quickly as she had arrived.

And as Miles watched her go, he felt that pit in his stomach again. Only, it wasn’t the usual fuzzy and warm one. It made him feel cold, like he had just done something wrong.

Which, as much as his brothers grinned and applauded him from across the room, he definitely did.

— — —

The rest of the shift felt like a long suffering chore. 

Which was absolutely shocking because Older Miles rarely felt like his job was a chore, save for long and busy shifts. But, the shift was rather short. Not at all busy. In fact, the cafe felt strangely empty. And so did he.

Before he knew it, Miles had clocked out and he was back home. And as soon as he got home, he collapsed onto the couch, face-down. He stayed there for a good moment until his brothers came in.

“Ladies and gents! … He has finally done it. Bro has achieved W Rizz.” 1610-Miles announced.

“Knew you had it in you.” 42 said as he nodded his head in approval.

“No, you didn’t?? You told us that he was gonna fail, didn’t you?” Little Miles asked.

“Nuh-uh! Shut your ass up.” 42 muttered, pushing him away before talking to Older Miles, who had turned around to lay face-side up. “Also, I believe we are owed the rest of our payment? Cough up the $30. Actually, make it 40 since we got you her number.”

Older Miles laid there, unresponsive. After a while, the three exchanged weirded out looks.

“Um… hello? Are you alive, dude?” 1610-Miles asked as he waved a hand in front of his brother’s face.

“I messed up.” Older Miles suddenly said.

“What?” his brothers questioned.

Older Miles sat up. “I don’t have W rizz. At all. I think… I have L rizz. Or actually, negative rizz. I don’t have any Rizz at all.”

“Are you good??” 1610-Miles asked, confused. “I don’t understand, you got her number?”

Older Miles looked at him. “What if it was pity? Or some weird kind of sympathy. I don’t know… all I know is that it wasn’t real.”

As his brothers sat down, looking at him for more of an explanation, Older Miles sighed.

“That advice you gave me… it may work out for you guys. But, it didn’t feel like me at all. And I think Hailey could tell that too.”

“No way. She was totally feeling it. Even I could see that!” Little Miles argued.

“Even if she was feeling it…” Older Miles countered, before shrugging. “I wasn’t. That whole exchange between us felt unnatural. Like I was speaking as someone else rather than just me. And even though I got through it all the way… I don’t think I could ever do that again. And I don’t think I can face her again without feeling some kind of… shame.”

The three were quiet, glancing at each other then at their brother.

“So you’re saying that our help… didn’t help.” 1610-Miles said, deflating with the words.

Older Miles looked at him before shaking his head.

“Oh… crap. I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to waste your chances.” 1610-Miles apologized.

“We’re sorry.” Little Miles said, also looking apologetic.

“Damn… does that mean we need to give you a refund?” 42 sighed instead.

Frowning, his twin smacked him on the shoulder, making 42 mouth, “What??” Meanwhile, Older Miles slowly chuckled.

“Nah, you’re good. Keep your ‘security deposit’.” He answered before smiling slightly. “And it’s not y’all’s fault either. I’m just not built that way, I guess. I bet I’m doomed to get no bitches forever.”

1610-Miles thought about it for a moment before saying, “Actually, I think you’re wrong.”

Older Miles raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“I’ve seen you talk to Hailey before. Or, waving your hands at each other, I don’t know. Either way, she seems really into you. She’s always smiling when you’re around. Plus, you said that she goes to the cafe every single day? It seems like she’s only there… to see you!”

As he said this, his twin’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. You’re right.”

Meanwhile, Older Miles scoffed. “What? No way.”

But as he said that, his mind flashed back to the moment Hailey showed him his art and what she said.

You’re really nice to talk to. You’re a good friend, Miles.

“Bro… you NEVER NEEDED US!” 1610-Miles gasped. “Just be you!”

“No wonder she wasn’t feeling you when you followed our advice.” 42 murmured, dumbfounded. “She actually likes your nerdy ass. Like ACTUALLY.”

Older Miles glared at the insult. “Well damn. She must have low standards.”

“I’m serious, bro. In fact… you should text her!” 42 suggested.

Older Miles’s eyes widened as he looked at his phone. “Huh?? What would I even text her about?”

“Maybe just say you wanna see her again! Like a hangout!” Little Miles proposed.

“Yeah! What’s one thing you think she would like doing with you?” 1610-Miles asked.

Older Miles opened his mouth before closing it again, thinking hard. And after a few moments, it finally hit him. Without a word, he turned on his phone, entered her number into the messages app, and started texting.

Miles: Hey, Hailey! It’s Miles. I’ve been wanting to reach out to you and congratulate you on your art recognition! Do you wanna hang out at the park and talk about it?

As he sent it, 1610-Miles asked, “Woah. What didja say?”

“Before all this, all she would talk to me about was her art.” Older Miles explained. “She even was telling me about it earlier, but I kind of shut it down. So I should talk to her about that, right?”

“Is that gonna work?” Little Miles asked.

Just then, Older Miles’s phone buzzed, indicating a reply from Hailey, which made him grin. “It just did.”

— — —

Hailey had told him to meet by the Mango Tango mural in a few minutes. So naturally, Miles shows up 5 minutes early.

But, it doesn’t seem to matter as Hailey was already there, waiting for him.

“I was wondering when you were gonna text me.” she said as a greeting, as Miles approached.

Miles smiled, noting how relaxed she was, before replying, “I got a little busy. Sorry I couldn’t text sooner.”

“You’re good. But, I did miss you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

Miles looked slightly puzzled, wondering if she remembered that they had only talked this morning. But, as he looked at Hailey’s playful smile, he quickly caught on.

“How’d you like the new guy who took my place this morning?” he asked, playing along.

Hailey gave him an “eh” look. “Wasn’t the best. He was cute and all… but he kept hitting on me. And I think he meant to call me ‘mama’ but his ASL made it seem like he was calling me ‘mother’.”

Miles’s eyes widened before he gave an awkward smile. “Wow. He sounds terrible.”

“He wasn’t all that terrible. Just… a new experience. But I wished you were there instead. You make better drinks.”

Miles laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s fired, for sure.”

As the two laughed, they settled into a comfortable silence as they both leaned against the wall and gazed at Hailey’s mural.

“I never got to congratulate you on that art guy liking your work. That’s really cool!” Miles said.

“Thank you. Hopefully his friends like it more.” Hailey replied with an anxious sigh.

“They will. Count on it.” Miles reassured her.

Hailey smiled softly, making Miles feel that pit in his stomach again. But this time, he welcomed the feeling, letting the heat that usually bothered him settle into a warm soothing feeling. And for once, he felt confident enough to not freak out.

But as he felt that surge of confidence, he recalled his brother’s advice: “Confidence plus Looks equals Rizz.” 

Maybe S was onto something.

“Hailey… I’ve been wanting to tell you something.” he started to say.

Suddenly, Hailey interrupted him with, “Let me stop you right there. I know what you’re gonna say.”

Miles smiled, noticing the callback to his own words when he told her to “run him her digits”.

“Really?” he asked.

Hailey scrunched her nose in mock thought before saying, “Actually I don’t.”

Miles chuckled. “I figured.”

Hailey then looked at him, finally quiet and waiting for his response. And after a few tense moments, Miles continued.

“I never got to tell you… how much I like you around. Every day you come around to the Morning Mug, I’m always looking forward to you walking in. Not because of the weird and fun drinks you order, but because it’s really nice seeing you smile.”

Hailey stared at him, wide-eyed but silent.

“And this might be too much to ask… but since your summer’s pretty uneventful and mine is uneventful…” Miles continued before taking a deep breath. “Would you maybe like going out for coffee sometime?”

After he said that, Hailey’s face broke out into a grin. Meanwhile, Miles was oblivious, fixated on a part of a sentence.

“Not at the Morning Mug though. I mean a different cafe. Because you know it’d be kind of weird to go to a place where I work—”

Suddenly, Hailey grabbed his hand while Miles was in the middle of signing, beaming up at him.

“I’d like that.” she said out loud.

Miles stared at her, completely starstruck. Slowly, he smiled.

“Cool,” he replied.

— — —

So how bad was it to ask your little brothers for help with a crush? Well if you take into account how badly Miles fumbled at first, it seems pretty bad.

But, as Miles quickly figured out, Hailey wasn’t the type of person to get scared away at that. Especially since she agreed to Miles’s little coffee date.

Also, the more Miles thought of it, the more he realized that he really needed his brothers’ advice. Because if he never came to them, he would have never found that piece of advice that got him through every crush-related issue.

Confidence plus Looks equal Rizz.

And as stupid as that piece of advice sounded, it really was a good one. After all, it helped him pull Hailey. And even though he wasn’t cut out to be a player or some kind of smooth-talker, he still got bitches nonetheless.

So, yeah. Maybe he did have immaculate rizz.

Answer of the day: Not bad at all (definitely don’t make it your first option though, they will scam the crap out of you)

Chapter Text

Question of the day: How far would you be willing to go to prove you’re right over your siblings?

Ah, yes. A question that the 4 brothers have fought over for years and years.

For the most part, the four Miles all got along. If they weren’t mad at each other for anything, they could peacefully interact with each other 24/7. Or at the very least, coexist. Sure they fought, but at the end of the day, the problem was all done and buried with, if it even was a problem at all.

Pranks, however, were the opposite of that.

The legendary Prank War had been going on for longer than any of the brothers could recall. All they knew was that it was a matter of life and death; at any time and at any point, the war would start up (usually over a trivial argument) and would go to extreme lengths until one prank topped them all.

But, to be fair, the Prank Wars hadn’t been in effect for at least a while.

That is… until the Cereal Incident.

— — —

The incident surprisingly had nothing to do with cereal. It had to do with the absence of it. Specifically, the addicting sugary cereal, Coco Loco.

There always seemed to be a box of it in the pantry without fail. No matter what Ma or Dad always got during their grocery hauls, they never forgot to restock the cereal. The same brand, every single time.

And for good reason. Their four sons always went nuts for it. It was always their go-to for breakfast, and if Ma didn’t ban them from touching it afterwards, it would be their go-to for lunch and dinner too. It would never fail to boost their moods; even if they woke up grumpy or unhappy, just a bowl of the stuff would snap them out of it.

But, of course, when 4 people who fight over the smallest things end up all liking one singular thing… all hell would break loose if even one of them took more than they should and left the rest with less.

Or, on this particular morning, nothing.

“YO! WHO THE FUDGE FINISHED THE COCO LOCO!”

As three of the Miles chillaxed on the couch, they all stood to attention at the shouting of Miles-42, who stomped into the living room with a box of the cereal in hand.

“I swear… if one of y’all ate the fucking cereal that MY ass wanted to eat… you don’t wanna know what I would do.” he threatened.

His three brothers instantly looked at the box then at him.

“Hold up. Rewind… you said WHAT about the Coco Loco??” Older Miles asked.

“SOMEONE FINISHED THE CEREAL!” 42 shouted, already fuming and on the verge of having a meltdown.

“No way. Say deadass.” his twin squawked.

“Dead. Ass.” 42 growled. “I was in the middle of having breakfast, trying to have some of my cereal… only to find out one of you whack-asses finished the whole damn thing!”

To prove his point, 42 threw the box on the ground and stomped on it, the box flattening without any resistance. Instantly, his three brothers recoiled in shock and terror.

“WHAT?! The Coco Loco is GONE?!” Little Miles cried.

“Yes. And if y’all don’t fess up and admit who ate it, imma lose it. Trust.” 42 spat.

“Wait… why are you blaming US?!” Older Miles protested. “You’re always the last one around here to touch the cereal, and you were the last one to have touched the cereal now!”

“... For your sake, I’m not even going to address the blame you’re throwin’ at me. I’m asking again. Who… ate… the Coco Loco?!”

Little Miles whistled lowly. “I meannnn. I saw Miles having a bowl of it this morning, but I don’t know.”

Immediately, 42 snapped his head towards his twin, who was gawking at Little Miles.

“You little snitch—”

“S. Don’t play with me right now.” 42 said. “Did you… or did you not… finish the Coco Loco?”

1610-Miles looked back at 42, wide-eyed before frowning.

“You’re just gonna believe this little— over your own TWIN?!” he exclaimed, extremely offended. “P, trust me when I say I did NOT eat it. You know who did though?? Miles!”

Older Miles shot up straight before saying. “What?? Nahhh, we’re not doing this right now.”

“For real! I’m TIRED of the blame game!” 42 said exasperatedly before putting his fingers on his temples. “I’m about to get violent.”

“Okay. At the end of the day… does it really matter though?” Little Miles pointed out. “We can always get another! We should definitely get the family pack.”

42 frowned, looking down before looking back at them with contemplation.

“Alright. Who’s paying? ‘Cause I sure ain’t.” 42 asked.

“Miles can.” Little Miles and 1610-Miles answered.

“WH— Oh hell no. Be serious. I am NOT paying for something I didn’t even finish!” Older Miles objected.

“It’s only fair! YOU got the job! So you got money!” Little Miles countered.

“Oh so NOW the little snitch wants to talk! Seems like you’re so eager to put your needs above everyone else’s, why don’t YOU pay for it??”

“I’M EIGHT?! Where is the money I’m getting if it isn’t the three dollars in my PIGGY BANK.”

The bickering continued to ensue as the four clamored over the other. But after a while, 1610-Miles had enough.

“ENOUGH!” he shouted.

Everyone fell silent.

“We’re not going anywhere with this.” he sighed before putting on a grim face. “I believe we need to resort to other ways to settle this…”

His brothers looked at him before slowly realizing what he was implying.

“Seriously? Is there like… no other way?” Older Miles asked with some hesitation.

“Yeah! For something like this… do we have to?” Little Miles asked.

“It depends.” 1610-Miles replied, his voice growing ominous. “Are any of y’all going to take accountability for the cereal?”

“Nuh-uh.” Everyone immediately responded.

“Okay then. Everyone put your hands in the middle.”

Complying, his brothers all gathered around in a small circle.

“Best 2 out of 5?” Older Miles asked.

“You know it.” 1610-Miles replied.

With the rules established, the four finally decided to…

“ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS, SHOOT!” 

As all four of them stuck their hands out, Older Miles got the advantage as he pulled scissors while everyone else pulled paper.

“LET’S GO!”

“Oh HELL NAH! This ain’t over!” 42 exclaimed.

“ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS, SHOOT!”

This time, 1610-Miles got the advantage with rock.

“HAH! Stay mad!” he said in victory.

“Shut your ass up and go again!” 42 growled.

“ROCK PAPER SCISSORS SHOOT!”

“What the— What kind of choice is THAT?!” Older Miles asked Little Miles.

Little Miles lifted up his hand, which was in a gun shape.

“Gun! Remember? Guns beat EVERYTHING! Rocks, papers, and scissors! Which means I WIN!”

“There’s no GUN!” 1610-Miles squawked. “It’s Rock Paper Scissors, not Rock Paper Scissors GUN!!”

“Nuh-uh! Rock. Paper. Scissors. SHOOT! Gun means shoot, that’s logic!” Little Miles argued.

“Even if that stupid shit was true, gun does NOT beat everything! Rock beats Gun, no contest.” 42 countered.

“HUH?! How?? Guns can just tear rocks apart with bullets—”

“Oh my god.” Older Miles sighed as he threw his hands up. “This isn’t working, people.”

“I agree! I’m sick and tired of always bickering with you guys!” 1610-Miles groaned.

“Hold up, last time I checked, Y’ALL bicker with me!” 42 shot back.

Once again, the fighting started up. This time however, it didn’t last long as Older Miles silenced them again.

“THAT’S IT!” he shouted.

Everyone fell silent once more.

“You guys have given us no other options… we’re gonna have to call on the big shots. The ultimate debate settler.”

Little Miles gasped. “You can’t possibly mean… no!”

“Yes.” Older Miles said solemnly.

Finally he stood up and spoke in a louder voice.

“I HEREBY ANNOUNCE A CODE PW! And declare another Prank War.” Older Miles announced.

At his words, his brothers were protesting in shock.

“Bro… are you sure you wanna do this? You’re asking for prank suicide!” 1610-Miles exclaimed.

“Yeah! Plus, Ma and Dad HATED the last one! Won’t they ground us again?” Little Miles pointed out.

“Nah… I’m with him on this one.” 42 sneered. “Y’all have been getting on my nerves for a while. We gotta settle up.”

“Now, guys.” Older Miles said in a warning tone. “We’re not gonna act like savages. If we’re gonna do this, then we’re going to have a fair and honest prank war. Y’all know the rules…?”

His brothers looked at each other before sighing, “Don’t break stuff, don’t be public nuisances, and don’t tell Ma or Dad.”

“That’s right. If everything is followed, then there shouldn’t be a problem.” Older Miles finished.

The three looked at each other, letting the finality of the Prank War declaration settle in.

“What’s the score?” 1610-Miles asked slowly.

“Easy. Whoever wins gets to be excluded from paying for the new Coco Loco box.” Older Miles replied.

“Can there… also be bragging rights involved?” Little Miles asked almost eagerly.

“Depends on if your prank sucks or not.” 42 answered.

“Agreed. And, it also goes without saying that there is NO GLUE ALLOWED!” Older Miles chided before side-eying 1610-Miles. “… Miles.”

“Wh— me?? Nah, that was twin’s idea, not mine!” 1610-Miles protested.

“Nuh-uh?? Bitch, YOU decided to put them in the water guns—” his twin started to say.

“I don’t care! Point still stands.” Older Miles sighed. “Now… any more questions? Comments? Concerns?”

For once, everyone was silent, not asking or adding anything to the conversation.

“Good. Now, let’s keep this prank bet quick and short… and I guess we’ll wait until one of us makes a move.” Older Miles concluded before he smiled. “ Buena suerte, hermanos .”

———

Prank War: Hour 1

By this time, it seemed right to assume that all the Miles were on their guard.

You always had to be in a Prank War, of course. After all, Prank Wars meant each brother had the freedom to do you tremendously dirty if you weren’t careful. And what was worse was that the “don’t tell Ma or Dad” rule forbade snitching (something that affected Little Miles more than anyone), allowing the perpetrator to get away scot-free unless you decide to revenge-prank them.

But the real struggle of a Prank War was coming up with and executing a prank so ungodly wicked and extreme that everyone else is immediately discouraged from revenge pranking. Aka, the “W Prank”. Prank Wars usually ended early with those, thus practically ensuring your victory and dominance.

The only thing was… it’s kind of hard to come up with a W Prank when either a) you’ve done it before in previous Prank Wars or b) it violates the rules.

But despite the difficulty of pulling a W Prank, it didn’t take long for the first one to be pulled.

Just outside the kitchen, Little Miles idled by the entrance, suspiciously observing the kitchen for any prank booby traps. After some inspection, he looked at Spidey in his hands.

“Okay, Spidey. We gotta be very careful!” He hissed to the stuffy. “I know we’re just getting some water, but we need to be alert. This is life and death!”

Spidey’s head tilted forward slightly, making Little Miles sigh in annoyance.

“C’mon, Spidey, don’t play dumb. You KNOW that any of my brothers could be around, waiting to strike with one of their pranks! I’m still recovering from the Glue Gun Prank!”

Spidey flopped back the opposite way, looking up at the ceiling. Little Miles pursed his lips a little.

“I guess you have a point. They can’t really catch me off guard if I know what to expect… but still, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

With that, Little Miles pressed against the wall, peeked around the corner, and slowly slipped into the kitchen. Once his feet hit the tile, he raced to hide by the kitchen counters. Just above his head were two conveniently placed glass cups, meaning that Little Miles didn’t need to open the cabinet to get one.

“Woah! I got lucky.” He whispered to himself as he reached for one.

But before he knew it, 42’s hand came out of nowhere, grabbing one of the cups.

“Oh. Hey, bichito.” 42 said casually, looking down.

Immediately, Little Miles jumped. “AGH! How did you get here? WHY are you here??”

42 raised an eyebrow. “Last I checked, I live here dumb butt. Or did the Prank War declaration come with evictions?”

Little Miles frowned. “Eh— Evictions? I don’t know what that means. Are you trying to confuse me with big words?!”

42 laughed as he walked over to the water dispenser in the fridge, and filled up his cup.

“Bro, I’m just here for water. That’s all.” He said as he did so.

Little Miles eyed him suspiciously. After all, it was weird to see his brother act like this. Especially since said brother was Miles-42, the most merciless pranker he knew.

But, as he watched Miles-42 sit down and drink his water casually, Little Miles felt that 42 was telling the truth. So, with a wary stare, Little Miles grabbed the cup. But as he walked towards the fridge, he made a last minute decision to put Spidey on the counter next to 42.

“Don’t keep your eyes off ‘im, Spidey.” He hissed in Spidey’s “ear”.

42 glanced at the toy in amusement as Little Miles finally went to the fridge and got water.

“Damn. You don’t trust me, huh? I’m hurt.” He remarked, putting on an exaggerated sad voice at the last sentence.

“You yelled at all of us earlier and told us that it was ‘time to settle up’.” Little Miles sighed as he finally filled his cup up and turned around. “Who would trust that??”

42 thought about it as Little Miles went to sit next to him.

“I guess you’re right. But, trust. I’m not gonna attack you.” 42 promised.

Little Miles side-eyed him before sipping slowly.

“… okay.” He replied, finally letting down his guard a lot more.

42 smirked before saying, “In fact, there’s a cool trick I wanna show you.”

“Really?” Little Miles asked with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

42 lifted up his cup. “I bet you that I can balance this cup on the back of my hand… without having it fall.”

Little Miles’s eyes widened at that, clearly interested by the bet. “Huh? No way. That’s impossible!”

42 grinned. “Watch.”

Quickly, 42 flipped over his hand to face palm-down, and put the glass carefully on top. Then, slowly but surely, he lifted up his hand with the glass, which didn’t even shake as he did. And as he raised it a good few inches above the counter, Little Miles was awestruck.

“YO!! THAT’S SO COOL!” He gasped, ditching any suspicion or skepticism he previously had.

42 used his other hand to grab the glass and take it off. “You know… I can teach you how to do it.”

Little Miles was taken aback by the offer before nodding. “Yes! Please do!!”

So, as they sat at the counter, 42 coached Little Miles through putting the glass on his hand, keeping his arm steady, and lifting it slightly so that the glass could perch on the hand without trouble.

And as Little Miles put down the glass, he was over the moon.

“That’s so cool! I’m definitely showing my friends this!” Little Miles squealed.

42’s eyes widened. “Your friends? Hm… well.”

Little Miles caught the hesitation in his voice, causing him to frown. “Why?”

“Well, I mean, with an easy little trick like that, I doubt your friends would be all impressed.” 42 mused before smiling. “You gotta hit them with something bigger.”

Little Miles leaned forward, invested. “What, what?! Spill it!”

42 grabbed Little Miles’s glass, holding the two glasses up.

“You can learn to balance two cups.” He announced.

Little Miles’s jaw dropped. “Of course! That’d be WAY cooler! Teach me!”

Complying with the demand, 42 directed his little brother to put his hands palm down before placing the cups on top. Soon, Little Miles lifted up his arms, lifting the cups in the process and trying to not make them tremble.

“You’re definitely right. They’d be more impressed at this!” Little Miles said before beaming. “Thanks!”

“Don’t thank me, lil bro.” 42 chuckled. Suddenly, his smirk split into an evil grin, as 42 stood up. “Especially since I trapped you.”

Little Miles froze. “What?”

“Tell me, Miles. How are you expecting to remove those cups without dropping them?”

Little Miles looked at his hands. “Easy! I’ll just use my hand to—”

Suddenly, he trailed off, finally realizing that he couldn’t do that, before slowly turning to 42, who was backing out with the same grin.

“You got pranked, bichito. Enjoy it.” He said as he exited the kitchen.

And as Little Miles sat there, the full effect of what just unfolded hit him, knowing that despite his cautiousness, he had been pranked.

“NOOOO!!!”

———

Prank War: Hour 3

Breakfast had long passed by now. And with it, any urges to dwell about the missing Coco Loco. Sadly, the same couldn’t be said for the pranks.

By the time hour 3 rolled around, the Prank War was starting to rack up tragedies. From baby powder put in the hair dryers, to sticky notes slapped on every corner of a bedroom, each prank was slowly escalating, as well as each brother’s anger levels.

But when it came down to the tally… 42 was winning. And that was not good for everyone else.

In his bedroom, Older Miles was angrily snatching colored sticky notes off his walls and throwing them in the trash can, grumbling all the while.

“Can’t believe this. I’m gonna kill whoever did this shit—”

Just then, the door banged open, catching Older Miles by surprise.

“OH HECK NAH! COME ANY CLOSER AND IM GONNA PRANK YOU!”

But as he shouted that, Older Miles trailed off as he saw 1610-Miles leaning on his doorframe, parts of his face and hair smudged with white.

“Er… what happened to your face? It looks like you stuck your head in a crack factory.” Older Miles asked.

1610-Miles quickly touched his face before whining, “Ughh! I thought I got all of it off!”

Quickly, he walked in and grabbed a tissue off of Older Miles’s dresser, haphazardly rubbing his face.

“Did I get it?” He asked, the smudges on his face more prominent now.

Older Miles opened his mouth before thinking better of it. “Sure.”

Slightly relieved, 1610 threw the tissue away. “Look, bro. I need your help!”

Older Miles frowned. “I don’t know if you noticed… but Prank Wars don’t involve help. I should know since you STICKY NOTE my room!”

After he said that, 1610 finally seemed to notice the paper-covered room.

“Yooo! That’s a fire prank—”

Older Miles glared at him, causing him to backtrack.

“Horrible prank, I mean. Not funny at all.” He quickly corrected.

Older Miles sighed before saying, “You’re giving me less reason to help you.”

1610 narrowed his eyes. “Well, how’s THIS for a reason: I DIDN’T DO THIS! You can thank P for that, AND my face!”

Older Miles stared at his dust-covered appearance. “What… did he do exactly?”

“… I don’t wanna talk about it. But you KNOW what he’s doing! He’s pranking us ALL! One by one! And before you know it, he’ll be winning the Prank War!”

Immediately, Older Miles shook his head. “Nah. I’m not letting his sneaky ass win.”

“Then help me. We need to form an alliance.” 1610 said seriously.

“An alliance?? Aren’t those against the Prank War rules?” Older Miles gawked.

1610 frowned before pulling out a stapled packet of paper from behind his back. “Not according to the handbook.”

He then tossed it to Older Miles, who caught it and inspected the sloppy pencil writing.

“Damn. I forgot we wrote this.” He exclaimed.

“Check page 14 and read it out for me.” 1610 urged.

Older Miles did as he said.

“…. ‘Rule 37-b: Alliances in Prank Warfare are permitted if one person is pranking others more than they are pranking each other.’” He read aloud.

“There’s your proof. Now, do you wanna join forces or not?” 1610 demanded, crossing his arms.

Older Miles looked up, considering it before looking at his sticky note walls and frowning.

“You know what… sure. If it means I can get all of this crap outta my room and avoid any other stupid pranks, okay.”

1610 grinned. “Perfect. Now… do you know where Little Miles is?”

…

“Yes, I’ll help you.” Little Miles said immediately.

Older Miles and 1610-Miles looked at each other than at Little Miles.

“Damn. That was quick. Why are you so eager?” Older Miles asked.

Little Miles glared, wet streaks of tears covering his face as he gestured to the cups still on his hands.

“I have been sitting here… FOR 2 HOURS!” He shrieked. “And I need these cups off of me!”

1610-Miles’s eyes widened as he snatched the cups away. Immediately Little Miles pulled back his hands, shaking them instantly and stretching his fingers out.

“He’s going down. ” Little Miles growled.

“Okay, slow your roll, buddy.” Older Miles sighed. “We need to think of a plan first.”

1610-Miles’s eyes widened before shaking his head and moving his hand back and forth in a “no” motion.

“Not out here… we have eyes.” He whispered.

Slowly, the three turned to 42’s phone near the fridge a few feet away from them, causing them to shudder. 

“Besides… I already got a plan.” 1610-Miles continued before smiling. “All I need… is for y’all to follow the protocol.”

———

Prank War: Hour 4

It was quiet.

… Too quiet.

No doubt his brothers were plotting some smart pranks, Miles-42 thought as he prepped for his next prank. But on second thought, no way could any of his dumb brothers think of anything to top his prank. Especially if he was able to get them THAT good with his pranks. 

So, all things considered, this Prank War was gonna be an easy sweep. Because 42 was about to unleash a W Prank.

As he set up the dye packets in subtle places along the door handles and underneath the counters, 42 snickered to himself. 

“These bitches won’t even know what hit them.” He whispered as he placed another one down.

“MANO!” A voice suddenly shouted behind 42.

Instantly, 42 whirled around and jumped back from the sudden appearance of 1610-Miles, smiling wide. Once he realized who it was, he deflated with a glare.

“That cheap-ass jumpscare doesn’t count as a prank, dumbass.” He growled.

“I know. Listen… there’s something I need to ask you.” 1610 replied as he stepped closer.

42 backed up as he did that. “HELL NAH! You think I’m stupid?! I ain’t letting you touch me or pull some wack-ass shit!”

1610 rolled his eyes. “Jeez. Relax, would you? I’m not gonna do anything!”

42 narrowed his eyes. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Fine. Don’t believe me?” 1610 sighed.

As he said that, he took out a few things and threw them on the ground. Slowly, 42 looked down to observe it.

“The fuck is that??” He asked, bewildered.

“Nothing much. Just the pranks I diffused that were laid out by our other brothers.” 1610 said matter-of-factly. “Plus a dossier of planned pranks I had in mind.”

42 looked up. “And you’re giving this to me… why?”

“You’ve been beating our asses for a good while in this prank war.” His twin pointed out. “I mean, you got me with the baby powder and you got Miles with the sticky notes. So I finally figured if you can’t beat them, join them.”

42 was quiet for a few seconds before crossing his arms. And just by the fact that he wasn’t immediately throwing a dye pack in his face and telling him to fuck off, 1610-Miles knew that his twin was coming around.

“Yeah? What’s in it for me?” 42 finally asked.

“Simple. I have better pranks for you to use. You use my intellect, and execute it. Then boom. We pull a W Prank. I’ll even let you take 75% of the credit.”

“What makes you think I wanna use your dumb plans?” 42 asked with narrowed eyes.

1610-Miles pointed at the papers on the ground. “Take a look at them and see if they’re dumb or not.”

42 raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the ground. Slowly he reached down for the papers, and shuffled through them. And as he did, his twin watched closely before his phone buzzed, indicating a text from Older Miles.

Brocita: Did it work?

As 1610-Miles glanced up to see a grinning Miles-42 with wide and eager eyes, he texted back with a smirk.

Like a charm.

———

1610-Miles never thought his plan would be going this well.

As his twin set up the needed materials for the prank, it all seemed like a miracle that this was going so smoothly. Not only did 42 not wonder once about where Older Miles and Little Miles were, but he also seemed convinced that his twin was on his side.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Okay. You know what to do, right?” Miles-42 asked as he finally stabilized the can of slime on top of the door.

His twin nodded. “Of course I do! Pull the rope when either of our brothers walk in and make sure the slime falls on top of them. You told me a thousand times!”

42 glared. “Good. Because if your ass messes things up in ANY way… I will kill you. For real.”

1610-Miles flashed a thumbs up while forming a fake smile on his face. “Great.”

As 42 turned away, his twin let out a sigh. His brothers better not mess up anything before he ends up dying at the ripe age of 15.

Just then, footsteps were heard in the distance, prompting Miles-42 to turn around and shoo his twin into the closet.

“Go, go, go!” He hissed.

“I’m going!” His twin hissed back.

“ Hello?? ” Older Miles’s voice echoed from the hallway.

Both of them stayed quiet as the footsteps grew louder.

“ P! You destroyed my room! I want you to fix it NOW! ”

1610-Miles sighed internally at his brother, who didn’t seem to comprehend that he didn’t need to exaggerate the tone in his voice when he was putting on a show.

Meanwhile, Miles-42 didn’t seem to catch it, as his grin grew wider.

“Oh yeah?!” He shouted. “What are you gonna do if I don’t??”

“ Oh you little bitch! Where are you?! I’m coming into your room! ” Older Miles’s voice boomed as he came closer to the door.

“ And don’t forget me too! I won’t forgive you for leaving me stuck in the kitchen! ” Little Miles’s voice came up.

42 put a fist to his mouth, clearly excited. 

“Yooo! We’re gonna get both of them!” He mouthed to his twin.

Just then, the door handle jiggled as the door opened slightly, making the bucket of slime wobble. 42 then glanced at it before nodding at his twin. And as his twin nodded, he grinned at the thought of what would happen next.

As Older Miles entered the room, standing right underneath the bucket with Little Miles right behind him, he was glaring.

“You’re gonna get it now, P!” Older Miles exclaimed.

“No, you.” 42 said with a grin.

After he said that, 42 waited for the scripted unleashing of the bucket of slime. But as he waited, and his two brothers glared even more with smirks, nothing happened.

Miles-42 started to get agitated as he waved his hand behind his back in an effort to get his twin to follow the cue. But as he did, his brothers laughed.

“Nah, P…” Older Miles replied before grinning. “You mean ‘no, YOU’. LET HIM HAVE IT, MILES!”

With that, the two jumped out of the way, and 1610-Miles emerged from the closet as his twin whirled around with shock. And without hesitation, he yanked the rope. The bucket soon went flying into 42, who was helpless against the onslaught of messy and gooey slime and the bucket following suit.

Taken by pure shock and recoil, 42 fell to the ground, writhing, as his twin laughed.

“You just got PRANKED!” He said victoriously.

“SHABOOYAH!” Little Miles whooped.

“How does it feel NOW, lil bro?” Older Miles asked.

Slowly, Miles-42 sat up, rubbing the back of his head with a sullen face.

“Aww, is he gonna cry?” Little Miles mocked.

But as 42 removed his hand, he croaked out, “My… head hurts.”

It was only after he said that, when each brother noticed a streak of red on 42’s hand.

“Hold up… are you okay, Miles?” His twin asked, genuine concern replacing the smugness.

Miles-42 grabbed the back of his head more, and drew it back, revealing more red on his hand. And it was after that when he started to scream.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! I’M BLEEDING!” 42 shouted.

“HOLY SHIT!” His twin yelled as he and Older Miles rushed to his aid.

“Miles! Go get help!” Older Miles said to Little Miles.

Wide-eyed and scared out of his mind, Little Miles scrambled into the hallway. Meanwhile, 42 had his face in his hands, seemingly crying.

“Don’t worry, Miles. It’s gonna be okay!” 1610-Miles reassured him, shaking.

“Yeah. We’re sorry for hurting you! We didn’t mean it! It was a stupid revenge prank!” Older Miles apologized.

42 looked up. “What??”

“It was a revenge prank. I had tricked you into thinking I was on your side but I was really helping them instead.” 1610-Miles admitted. “But… we didn’t mean for this to happen. Not at all! We’re sorry, man. Really sorry!”

42 sniffed. “… Thank you.”

He then started to cry some more. But, something was different, as his brothers picked up on an element of his crying that seemed off.

It was giggling. Which transformed the crying into cackles.

“Thank you… for being so DUMB!” 42 declared.

“WHAT?!” His brothers exclaimed.

42 grinned as he held up his hand covered in red, and his other hand holding a dye pack of the same color.

“You got pranked! AGAIN!” He shouted in triumph.

His brothers sat there, shellshocked.

“No… fucking… way.” 1610-Miles whispered.

“You aren’t bleeding?! Or crying?! At all?!?!” Older Miles cried in disbelief.

“Nah. I ain’t no pussy.” 42 said. “You must think I am though, if you deadass thought I fell for your dumb prank. I knew twin was trying to trip me up from the start! So I improvised a little backup prank if he decided to betray me. Which he did!”

His brothers looked at each other.

“That’s… messed up.” His twin murmured.

“Oh shut up.” 42 sighed. “Y’ALL are the ones who jumped me with freaking slime. You know how HARD it's gonna be washing this stupid shit outta my clothes?!”

Older Miles slowly smiled. “Okay. You got us.”

42’s eyes widened. “Wait. Say that again.”

His brothers sighed before saying, “You got us.”

“FUCK YEAH I DID!” 42 exclaimed as he stood up. “Which means I WON the Prank War! HA! Suck it!”

But at that moment, Little Miles came back into the room, followed by a very worried Ma and Dad.

“¡AY, DIOS! ¿Qué demonios ha pasado?” Ma shrieked as she rushed in.

“Who got hurt in here?!” Dad demanded. “And do I need to call an ambulance?!”

42’s eyes widened, showing fear for the first time at what was going to happen if he told them it was a prank. But as he looked at his brothers with a pleading look, they backed up with their hands up.

“Ask Miles, Ma.” They said in sync with smiles.

42 groaned. “Ay… mierda.”

———

So, at the end of the day, how far were any of the Morales brothers willing to go to win over each other? 

In the heat of the moment, pretty far. It was easy to get carried away during Prank Wars. And it was only when the dust settled and the final verdict was made, that the real consequences rolled in.

For example, getting yelled at in Spanglish and getting your ass beat for real. And another example: being forced to clean the entire house without any breaks or rewards. And the most famous example: being banned from the Coco Loco for a good 3 weeks.

But, looking back on it, Prank Wars, despite the influence they held, was something unique you gotta cherish among your brothers. And even though they end up in disaster, they settle arguments pretty damn well.

Answer of the day: Pretty far (considering that 911 was going to be called)

Chapter Text

Question of the day: Is it ever worth it to contact the dead?

According to any person who believed in the supernatural and never messed with ghosts: no it was most definitely not worth it.

There was a reason ghosts were so scary in horror fiction. The possessions. The haunted houses. The murder. They all held the same message: ghosts were not meant to be fucked with. Not unless you had a death wish.

But, in the case of the Morales brothers, they had no death wish but rather a morbid sense of curiosity and the urge to fuck around and find out. Which is why when they land themselves with an infamous Ouija board, they make the dumb decision of testing it out.

And of course, as things go in these stories, it goes horribly wrong.

———

It was a night like any other. An unusually brightly moonlit and clear night. Dinner had just been finished, dishes had been put away, and now, the good news was that the Morales brothers had some free time before going to bed.

The bad news was that said free time happened to be the most boring hours of their lives.

“GUYS! I’M BORED!” Little Miles suddenly shouted.

His brothers lazily looked at him from different parts of the couch.

“Skill issue.” 42 mumbled before letting his head drop back onto the couch.

“What do you even want us to do about that?” Older Miles asked tiredly.

“Somethinggg!” Little Miles whined as he stomped his feet a little. “Before I die of boredom!”

1610-Miles pushed himself up with a sigh. “Alright. Y’all wanna watch a movie?”

“Nooooo.” His brothers groaned in reply.

“Bro. Why not??”

“Watching a movie? In this household?? You KNOW that would end up with us watching either a silly goofy kids movie or an ungodly long action movie. No in-between.” Older Miles huffed.

“ Ay . Fine! How about… a board game!” 1610-Miles suggested.

42 instantly sneered. “Hoe, we are not 5.”

But Little Miles had the opposite reaction as he jumped up. “Ooh! Let’s see what games we have!”

And before anyone could stop him, Little Miles ran out of the living room, leaving his brothers to bicker with each other. As he raced down to the hall closet, Little Miles opened the door and dug past some items to find a stack of board games in the corner.

“Twister… Candyland… AH! DEFINITELY not Uno!” He muttered to himself.

As he moved the last game out of the way though, Little Miles caught sight of something seemingly blended in with the floorboards. Something old, dusty, and covered in cobwebs.

Curiously, Little Miles moved more stuff out of the way to clear the area before slowly reaching a hand towards it. When his hand got close though, he felt an undeniable and sudden chill, making him suddenly lurch back before slowly shaking it off.

Weird… he thought.

Once again, Little Miles reached for the game, and finally grabbed it without feeling any chills. As he brought it out slowly, the sudden onslaught of dust assaulted his nose before he coughed and sneezed, clearing the air with a hand wave.

Finally, he used a hand to wipe away the dust on the front of the game box, revealing a weird word he hadn't seen before.

“O… Ow-ai-ja?” He tried to pronounce. “Oh-u-ee-ja??”

After a while he gave up on pronouncing it before inspecting the box with a captivated look. And even though it looked ancient, it definitely was a new game he hadn’t seen before.

And one that he and his brothers totally had to play.

…

When Little Miles got back, his brothers were still arguing.

“… Listen if YALL wanna blame me for the Uno incident, need I remind you that it was TWIN who threw that chair first, not me!” 1610-Miles was saying.

“Bitch that was because YOU gave me THIRTY CARDS! Y’all were tryna sabotage me for no reason!”

“Um, guys—” Little Miles started to interject.

“Bro, you can’t seriously be mad at the way the game is played!”  Older Miles exclaimed.

“Nah… no NORMAL person plays Uno by our rules, bruh! If anyone saw how we played, they wouldn’t call it Uno, they’d call it prison!” 42 scoffed.

“Oh please, you’re acting like you didn’t sign off on them—”

“GUYS!” Little Miles shouted.

His three brothers turned to him. “What?!”

“I found a game!” Little Miles announced.

Instantly, 1610-Miles went from frowning to delighted. “Oh, for real? Is it a good one?”

Little Miles grinned. “It sure is.”

He then raised the board game for everyone to see. But as his brothers looked at it closely, one of them quickly became terrified.

“IS THAT A OUIJA BOARD?!” Older Miles squawked. “Oh HELL nah! Get that shit away from me!”

Little Miles looked at the box before tilting his head. “So THAT’S what this is? A ‘wee-jee’ board?”

Older Miles shook his head. “Not wee jee! Ouija! And it’s NOT a board game! It’s a ghost summoning kit!”

Little Miles’s eyes grew wider than plates. “WHAT?!”

Miles-42 meanwhile didn’t look fazed as he sighed. “Y’all are some lame bitches. Imagine being scared of a fake haunted board.”

1610-Miles nodded. “Gotta agree with P. Y’all know that Ouija boards aren’t real… right?”

“Uh, YES they are?!” Older Miles shot back. “Literally it’s a known fact that this stupid thing can summon ghosts… which is why NO ONE ever uses them!” He turned to Little Miles. “Why do you even have that thing?!”

“I— I don’t know!” He blubbered, looking frightened. “I just found it in the closet! Should I put it back? Is it actually CURSED?!”

Despite Older Miles nodding frantically, 42 had the opposite reaction, shaking his head.

 “Nah. Don’t listen to Mr. Conspiracy Theories and his craziness.” 42 drawled before shooting a grin at Older Miles’s bewildered face. “Ouija boards aren’t cursed . They don’t summon ghosts. It’s common sense.”

“Oh yeah? How would you even know if you never used one?” Older Miles scoffed.

After he said that, his twin brightened with an idea.

“You know what… Why don’t we do it? Use the Ouija board?”

Older Miles's jaw almost hit the floor. “Are you people INSANE?!?!”

“Yo… that’s not a bad idea.” 42 mused, looking at his twin with a smirk. “If we use this to summon ghosts firsthand, we can bet on whether or not this thing is actually legit.”

“Why do we need to bet?!” Older Miles screeched. “Ouija boards are real, and if we do your stupid thing, we could bring a demon into the house!”

“IF it’s real.” 1610-Miles pointed out.

“C’mon, bichito. You GOTTA be curious about if this is legit.” 42 said to Little Miles. “What do you say?”

Little Miles thought about it before slowly nodding.

“Okay! Let’s do it!”

Older Miles sputtered in disbelief before finally closing his mouth and staring at the three of them with a dead expression.

“Y’all know what? Okay. You wanna conjure a demonic ghost to attack you and drain your souls, be my guest! I, on the other hand, am gonna call it a night. Nice knowing y’all!”

But before Older Miles could leave, 1610-Miles quickly grabbed him and pulled back.

“Bro! You’re doing it too!” He exclaimed. “How else are you gonna get over your fear of Ouija boards if you never confront it??”

Older Miles looked dubious. “Fear?? Who’s afraid?! Just because I don’t wanna catch a ghost doesn’t mean I’m scared.”

“Nahhh. Bro’s a scaredy cat.” 42 mocked, laughing with the words.

“Chicken alert! Buk-ahh!” Little Miles cackled.

“Will y’all cut it out?! I am not a scaredy-cat or a chicken!” Older Miles yelled at them.

“Then do this with us.” 1610-Miles replied with a shrug and a smirk. “ Sin cojones. ”

Older Miles instantly snapped his head up at the last sentence, the rage igniting in him like a sleeper agent.

No balls.

Just the two words held so much weight to the Morales brothers in arguments, especially when they were forcing one of their brothers to do something. The sentence wasn’t an insult; it was a challenge. One that made turning it down only an option for people who were too much of a pussy to do it.

And as superstitious as Older Miles was, he wasn’t desperate. Which is why he came up to 1610-Miles and crossed his arms with a determined glare.

“Fine.”

———

What had once been a relaxing night was now a night of heightened tension as the hour for summoning came nearer and nearer. Although they hadn’t called any ghosts yet, the four brothers were still on their guard with trepidation and anxiety.

Feelings that, granted, didn’t really stay long with the boring phase of setting everything up and reading online tutorials.

“… what the fuck are you doing, Miles?” 42 asked.

Older Miles looked up from what he was doing, which was sprinkling table salt on the floor.

“Protecting your dumb butts.” He replied with a roll of his eyes, as if 42 was crazy for asking the question. “I read somewhere that salt circles protect the summoners from malicious spirits, and also cleanse the—”

42 waved his hand, interrupting Older Miles, while side-eying him. “Just forget I asked.”

Meanwhile, 1610-Miles and Little Miles were in the middle of lighting all of the scented candles and prayer candles they were able to sneak from the cabinets, placing them in various areas around the table.

“Why do we gotta light a bunch of candles?? Can’t we just keep on the lights?” Little Miles whined.

“Are you kidding? Ghosts love the dark, that’s why!” Older Miles answered. “Why do you think they’re always in dark haunted houses? You don’t see ghosts haunting well-lit houses, do you??”

“That, and it sets the mood. Mostly the mood thing.” 1610-Miles whispered to Little Miles.

Once the candles were lit and the salt circle was almost done (Older Miles forced everyone in before closing it fully), the four now sat around the table, all of them in varying stages of excitement and, for Older Miles , fear.

“Woahhh! This is happening! I’m gonna meet a ghost!” Little Miles gushed before gasping. “Do you think that we could be friends?!”

“Sure, lil bro… If it doesn’t suck the life out of you first.” Older Miles muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing…”

“Let’s just get this shit started already.” 42 sighed.

Older Miles sat up before sighing. “Okay. For the session, I’ll be leading.”

“You?!” His three brothers exclaimed.

“Bro, you didn’t even WANT to do this before! And now you wanna lead?!” 1610-Miles squawked.

“Well, I’m not gonna let Y’ALL lead and have something happen because of your dumb decisions!” Older Miles protested. “Plus, I have way more knowledge on Ouija boards. I read the articles, not you.”

His brothers hesitated before finally relenting with grumbles.

“That’s what I thought.” Older Miles sighed before growing serious. “Now, let’s begin.”

After he said that, it seemed like a chill swept through the room, chilling each of the four, who all forced it down and ignored it. For a moment, the four sat there, letting the candles burn and the board sit peacefully.

“First,” Older Miles finally said. “We’re gonna hold hands.”

With a nod, his brothers confidently clapped their hands together, interlacing their fingers. Older Miles stared at the sight, completely incredulous and pissed off.

“I MEANT WITH EACH OTHER.”

At his words, his brothers “ohh”ed in recognition before reaching their hands out to each other. Once they did, Older Miles let out a tired breath.

“Moving on.” He said pointedly, side-eying his brothers. “I’m gonna say some little things to properly invite the spirits into our home. All y’all need to do is close your eyes and stay quiet.”

“Wow! Like a spell??” Little Miles asked.

“I bet they’re more like incantations—” 1610-Miles mused.

“SHHH!”

His brothers instantly closed their mouths. After a few seconds, Older Miles mumbled a few things in English, before speaking in Spanish for a full five minutes. As his brothers sat there restlessly, 42 noticed something in Older Miles’s Spanish.

“Wait a damn— are you PRAYING?!” He asked, incredulous.

“YES, I am praying!” Older Miles snapped.

“My guy, how are you calling ghosts with Hail Mary prayers??” 1610-Miles asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not! I’m praying for my SAFETY and that y’all don’t do anything stupid!” Older Miles sneered.

“MILES!” His brothers groaned loudly.

Older Miles sighed. “Okay, okay! I’ll cut the prayers short… Gloria al Padre, al Hijo y al Espíritu Santo. Amén. ”

His brothers swiftly glared at him, causing him to clear his throat.

“We call upon the spirit world and welcome any kind spirits to talk with us.” He quickly said, almost dismissively.

After he said this, the four waited in silence for a minute longer before they heard a slight rumble outside and some of the candles flickered.

“It’s here…!” Little Miles whisper-shouted.

“SHH!” The twins both shushed their brother.

Meanwhile, Older Miles let go of the hands he was holding, and put a single finger on the board’s planchette.

“Quick! Do what I just did!” He hissed to his brothers.

Following the command, three extra fingers joined his own on the planchette. Older Miles then looked around for any signs of the spirit, which seemed to show in the candles and the flickering shadows on the wall.

“Are you there?” Older Miles asked loudly.

At the question, 42 let out a slightly restrained laugh, shaking with the action. His twin and Little Miles looked just as amused, with the latter being more curious than amused.

“How is he gonna reply? Can ghosts talk??” he asked Older Miles in a hushed voice.

“No. If he’s actually here, the ghost would move the thing we’re touching to either the ‘yes’ or the ‘no’ on the board.” Older Miles explained.

“Which just proves my point.” 42 said after a few moments of waiting in silence, smirking mischievously. “Ouija boards aren’t real.”

“Will you guys SHUT UP–”

Suddenly, a harsh movement cut Older Miles short, as the planchette lurched into motion, making all four of them jump with wide eyes. The planchette jerked and skittered to the upper left-hand corner of the board, before settling on the “yes”.

And once it did, the screaming started.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” 42 shouted.

“THE GHOST! IT’S HERE!!” Little Miles screeched.

“BRO, DID YOU MOVE THE THING?!” 1610 yelled at Older Miles.

Before Older Miles could speak, the planchette moved again, this time going to the upper right corner and resting on the “no”. At this, everyone fell silent, wide-eyed and terrified.

“Miles? …I don’t wanna play anymore.” Little Miles whispered.

“We can’t stop now! That will make things worse!” Older Miles retorted.

“Well then, what the hell are we gonna do, smart guy?!” 42 snapped, masking his terror with anger.

Older Miles gave him a disgruntled look before shrugging. “Well… since he’s here, we might as well ask the ghost some questions, right?”

“What do you even ask a ghost?!” 1610 hissed.

Older Miles was quiet for a few moments before saying louder, “What is your name?”

At his question, the candles flickered once more, making his brothers jump, cursing under their breaths. And after a few seconds, the planchette moves, making its way to the alphabet on the board. It then started to go to specific letters, causing the four of them to spell it out.

“S… P… O… T.”

“Spot?? What kind of stupid-ass name is that?!” 42 asked before anyone could silence him.

After the words, the candles started to make popping sounds, making the four scream in fear.

“AH! He didn’t mean that, Mr. Spot, sir!” Older Miles quickly said, before glaring at 42 and hissing, “Say you’re sorry before he kills us!”

42 looked around, wide-eyed, before muttering, “Sorry.”

As soon as he said that, the popping sounds ceased, leaving them in silence. Older Miles sighed.

“You… are not allowed to talk for the rest of this anymore. Understand?” he growled at Miles-42.

For once, 42 didn’t make a move to protest as he muttered something inaudibly.

“So… Spot. How’d you die?” Older Miles asked before quickly saying, “If you don’t mind us asking.”

It was quiet for a few more moments before the planchette moved across the alphabet once more, landing on certain letters.

“B… A… G… E… L?”

Instantly, Little Miles and the twins held back snickers, to Older Miles’s displeasure.

“A bagel. How did a bagel kill you?” he asked.

The planchette spelled out, “C… H… O… K… E… D.”

“Damnn. You choked on a bagel? That’s crazy.” 1610-Miles remarked.

“Not that we’re making fun of you for it, of course.” Older Miles added, while side-eying him. “So, when you died, you became a ghost. Does that mean you have unfinished business?”

Unlike the other times, the planchette didn’t hesitate to move to “yes”.

“What’s unfinished business?” Little Miles questioned, a little nervous.

“It’s when a ghost misses out on something they really wanted to do before they died…” 1610 answered.

“So, what’s your unfinished business?” Older Miles asked Spot.

The planchette moves towards the alphabet.

“R… E… V… E… N… G… E.”

As soon as the word was spelled out, the candles flickered, as a low creaking entered the house. The four were clearly starting to chicken out, as the fingers on the planchette shivered.

“Is the person you want revenge on… alive?” Older Miles asked slowly.

The planchette moves to “yes”.

“... Who is it?” 1610-Miles asked, unable to stop himself.

The planchette moves to the alphabet again.

“Y… O… U.”

Finally, some of the candles blew out, revealing more shadows on the wall. Shadows that, weirdly, looked like large black dots.

“Hell nah. OKAY, GOODBYE!” Older Miles shouted.

Immediately, everyone took their fingers off of the planchette, getting up in record time to turn on the lights. Once they did, the shadows disappeared, revealing everything to look exactly like it did before they started.

Only this time, they were definitely never going to use an Ouija board again.

“You… dumb-ASSES!” Older Miles cursed as he hastily packaged the Ouija board. “I SAID that this would happen, didn’t I?! But, NOOO. NO ONE listens to ME!”

“Well, WE didn’t know that some weird guy named Spot was gonna come after us because he choked on a freaking BAGEL!” 1610-Miles shouted as he and his twin blew out the candles quickly.

“And what the fuck was that dude’s problem?! ‘Oh, I want revenge on you’. That’s why you’re dead. Punk-ass bitch.” 42 growled.

“Miles! I’m scared!” Little Miles whimpered as he held tight onto Older Miles’s leg. “Is the ghost gone?!”

Older Miles sighed as he closed the box. “I’m hoping, yes. Usually ghosts leave when we say goodbye. They’re more inclined to, compared to just not saying anything. So, maybe we can just bury this experience and never talk about this again—”

Just then, the lights flickered, momentarily plunging them in darkness. And once the lights came back on, the four were suddenly all gathered together, clinging onto each other with terrified screaming.

“AGH! Why did Mami have to be on-call when we’re being HAUNTED?!” Little Miles cried.

“Relax, people! We’re not haunted!” Older Miles replied, even though he was shivering and his voice was high-pitched. “This usually happens after Ouija sessions! It’s just the house settling.”

“Oh my god. Do you HEAR yourself?!” 1610-Miles bit out. “People in horror movies say the same thing before they’re MURDERED. You’re gonna get us killed!”

“WAHHHH!!” Little Miles wailed as he bursted into tears. “I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!”

Before Older Miles could say anything to calm them down, a crash sound was heard from the kitchen, making the four finally lose it.

“RUN!” Older Miles hollered.

With loud screams, the four nearly trampled over each other, trying to get upstairs away from the living room and the kitchen. And after a terror-filled moment of them pushing past each other and mindlessly sprinting up the stairs and through the hallway, they all took refuge in Older Miles’s bedroom, diving behind the bed.

A long moment of silence passed, as nothing and no one moved. And during that moment, slight rattling could be heard from downstairs before it finally stopped. Once it did, the four Miles finally lifted their heads up, peeking out from the other side of the bed.

“Is he gone?” Little Miles whispered.

“If he knows what’s good for him… he better be.” Miles-42 snarled.

“Bro… we can’t hide in here forever.” 1610-Miles said. “What are we gonna do?”

Older Miles shot a glance at 42 before saying pointedly, “I don’t know. How about we ask P ?”

42 glared. “Miles, I swear to god, if you start–”

“This IS your fault, you know! Who was the one who forced me into doing this shit?!”

“Nuh-uh. We’re not doing this. FIRST of all, you weren’t forced. We didn’t force you to do shit. SECOND of all, twin was the one who convinced you! In fact, didn’t you only say yes because he said ‘no balls’??”

“YES! It’s not like I had a choice ! You don’t BACK down from a ‘no balls’.” Older Miles countered.

“And, hello?! I only said no balls because I wanted us to have a little fun!” 1610-Miles protested. “How am I the bad guy in all of this?!”

“You are.” Older Miles and Miles-42 said in unison.

“Man, fuck you.” 1610-Miles sighed.

Suddenly, the lights flickered again, prompting the four to shiver.

“GUYS! I don’t CARE whose fault it was. We need to stop Spot from stealing our souls, and we need to do it now!” Little Miles hissed.

“Bichito is right. What’s the plan? Like, for real.” 42 agreed.

Older Miles was quiet before pulling out his phone and sinking to sit down on the floor. “Give me a second.”

Soon, the sound of typing filled the air, as his brothers impatiently waited for an answer. Finally, after some angry cursing and eventually some relieved “yesss”es, Older Miles came back up again.

“It says we need to cleanse the house before properly banishing the ghost,” he finally explained.

His brothers looked at each other before looking at him.

“Okay? How are we gonna do that?” Little Miles asked.

Older Miles thought for a moment before looking back at his phone, typing some more, and finally snapping his fingers, lighting up with an idea. 

“... Do we have any sage?”

— — —

They in fact did not have sage. But, they did have a bunch of cooking herbs from Ma’s spice cabinet. Which would have to do.

The thought itself of what would come to transpire was crazy in every sense. After all, four boys who had little to no experience with ghosts were about to attempt to banish a ghost from their home, armed with only some spices, some rocks (that looked like cleansing crystals if you looked at it very closely), and a bunch of brooms.

In a way… it was like Ghostbusters on a budget. Which, coincidentally, was something the four were debating as they grabbed the stuff.

“I can’t believe we’re actually gonna banish a ghost.” 1610-Miles exclaimed. “We’re like the Ghostbusters!”

42 scoffed. “Yeah, if the Ghostbusters were dumb bitches who threw spices and rocks at their ghosts.”

“Then… we aren’t the Ghostbusters?” Little Miles asked, a little disappointed.

Older Miles rolled his eyes. “More like the Ghost Pretenders.” he said sarcastically.

“Nahh, we need a better name than that.” 1610-Miles murmured, thinking about it now.

“Do you really think that should be our priority–”

“WAIT! Hear me out… Ghostly Gangsters.” 1610-Miles announced with a grin.

42 gasped. “Yoooo! That’s actually sick!”

Older Miles put his head in his hands. “Ay yi yi.”

Just then, something clattered to the ground, without anybody touching it. As the four yelped, Older Miles frowned in determination.

“Everyone in formation!” he declared.

Instantly, the four converged, putting their backs to each other and spinning around, each of them holding their chosen “weapons” and glaring.

“Light the herbs.” he told 42 and Little Miles.

With a confident nod, Little Miles activated the lighter in his hand, putting it to 42’s bundle of spices. Soon, the stack began to smoke, and a spicy aroma filled the air. As Miles-42 waved it around with a menacing glare, Older Miles spoke up.

“Alright, Spot! If you’re there, show yourself!” he announced.

At his words, the lights flickered. But this time, it went on for a longer time, and it was joined by all of the electric appliances turning on and off repeatedly.

“OH MY GOD!” Little Miles cried.

“He’s here, alright.” 1610-Miles murmured.

Older Miles quickly pulled out his phone and pulled up the spell he had prepared. Soon, he began to read it aloud, shouting at the top of his lungs:

“With these sacred items, I cleanse this space,

The ghostly presence, I now erase.

Let the darkness fade away,

Let the light bring a brand-new day.”

At that moment, a loud screeching echoed through the kitchen, causing the light flickering to falter. And as it did, Older Miles looked hopeful.

“It’s working! Keep it up, everyone!” Older Miles shouted.

His brothers nodded before holding up their “sacred items”, shoving them into the air and waving them around, as the screeching and the light flickering went on.

“The power of the Ghostly Gangsters compels you!” 1610-Miles shouted bravely.

Just then, the lights gave out, plunging them into darkness, the only light coming from Little Miles’s lighter. The screeching also stopped, leaving them in an eerie silence.

“Bro… it worked!” 42 exclaimed.

“WOOHOO!” Little Miles whooped.

“Hah! Some ghost! It only took a little spell and some spices to banish him!” 1610-Miles remarked.

Suddenly, a thump sounded, quickly depriving the group of their sense of victory. Instantly, they huddled together, raising their weapons again.

“Stay close.” Older Miles warned as they gathered together. “He could be anywhere.”

At that moment, the silence was pierced by a loud yowl, making everyone jump.

“What was that?!” 42 yelped.

“I don’t know!” Older Miles replied, equally scared.

But just as he said that, the lights flickered on again, revealing a new visitor. Meows the cat was now stretched out on the ground, his eyes unbelievably wide and his fur on end. As the four slowly put down their weapons, they stared wide-eyed at their pet.

“Meows??” Little Miles asked.

At his voice, Meows blinked, a sudden look of bloodlust on his face, before slowly getting up with jolting movements. Instantly, the four backed up slowly, eyeing the cat with suspicion and fear.

“... You don’t think—” 1610-Miles started to say.

“ MRAOW! ”

Suddenly, Meows lunged at them, causing everyone to scream. Instinctively, Older Miles pushed Meows away with the broom, causing the cat to slip and fall with an even more demonic yowl.

“RUN!” he shouted.

Once again, the four ran away frantically, closely pursued by a now possessed Meows. As they went up the stairs, Meows did as well, starting to swipe his claws at them.

“What are we gonna do now?!” Little Miles wailed.

Older Miles frowned before stopping and turning around, just as Meows got close. Quickly, he used the broom to hit the ground in front of Meows, making him stumble.

“You guys run! I’ll fight him off!” he yelled to his brothers.

Before his brothers could react, Meows screeched and pounced onto Older Miles, causing him to fall down. As he struggled to get Meows off, his brothers watched on helplessly.

“We gotta help him!” 1610-Miles gasped.

42, while watching the scene, suddenly lit up with an idea.

“One of you, go and grab Meows’s crate from the bathroom!” he yelled at his two brothers.

Wide-eyed, Little Miles ran to go and get it. Meanwhile, the twins sprung towards Older Miles and Meows, grabbing the cat and pulling him off their brother.

As they held the scrambling cat in their hands, Little Miles came back with the crate. Without hesitation, 1610 snatched the crate and opened it for 42, who then stuffed the cat inside, latching the lock afterwards.

Now, Meows was in the crate, hissing and spitting at them, as well as clawing the steel bars. As he did, the four finally caught their breath, collapsing to the ground.

“This…” Older Miles wheezed. “Is why we shouldn’t own pets.”

Little Miles gazed at the crate hopelessly, close to tears. “He got Meows. Why did he have to go for Meows?!”

“Because… Like he said, Spot wants revenge.” Older Miles replied defeatedly.

“Punk-ass.” Miles-42 muttered.

“So much for the Ghostly Gangsters.” 1610-Miles sighed. “Now what do we do?”

“Yeah! The spell didn’t work!” Little Miles added.

“Well, I think I know what went wrong.” Older Miles replied. “Our cleansing didn’t work. That’s probably because we only used what was in Ma’s spice cabinet and some random rocks you found outside once. So we need something stronger.”

“Like what?” 42 asked.

Older Miles thought about it. “If we can’t get sage or anything like that… we should try using something important to the ghost. I read that using an item related to the ghost in any way could rebuke them if it’s used against them.”

Just then, 1610-Miles gasped, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Like the BAGEL!” he concluded.

42 looked bewildered. “Be serious. No way you’re suggesting we’re gonna banish a spirit with a freaking bagel.”

“Actually…” Older Miles replied, his eyes brightening. “That could work!”

42 opened his mouth before throwing up his hands, clearly done with trying to argue.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s save Meows!” Little Miles declared.

1610-Miles checked his phone for a second before saying, “Preferably before Ma or Dad get home and see that we’re all awake at 2 am.”

…

With that, the four got up and went down the stairs, crate in hand. As they put the crate with a yowling Meows in the living room, they made their way into the kitchen in search of the bagels, which they found in the pantry.

“Thank god Ma went grocery shopping.” Older Miles sighed as he grabbed the family pack of everything bagels. “Now that we have the bagels, we can finally banish Spot from our house.”

“Greaaat. Do you need some cream cheese with that too??” 42 said sarcastically.

Older Miles looked at him weirdly, as if he was crazy for asking that. “No?? Why would we need cream cheese?!”

“Just making sure… since I’ve never done an exorcism with a BAGEL before!” Miles-42 screeched, throwing his hands up. “By the way, can someone tell me what the hell we’re doing?! What, are we just gonna throw bagels at Meows and hope for the best?!?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous… We’re gonna say a spell too.” Older Miles replied matter-of-factly.

Hearing this seemed to make 42’s brain short-circuit, as he opened his mouth and shook his head. Meanwhile, his twin smacked him softly on the arm.

“Bro, chill. We know it sounds stupid, but it’s gonna work! Just get with the program!” he hissed.

Miles-42 looked at him before sighing heavily, covering his face with his hands. “You know what? Sorry. Proceed with the bagel exorcism.”

“Thank you.” Older Miles huffed.

Suddenly, they heard a loud crash in the living room, making the four of them freeze.

“MEOWS?!” Little Miles shouted as he raced into the living room.

“Hey! Miles! Be careful!” Older Miles called as he and his brothers followed him.

As the four entered the living room, their worst nightmares were confirmed as they stared at what was by the table on the ground. Meows’s crate had fell, and also popped open, letting the demonic cat free, which was nowhere in sight.

“Holy shit…” 1610-Miles whispered.

“Where did he go?” Little Miles asked frantically.

Suddenly, a furry shape darted out from under the table, as Meows streaked past them into the kitchen. Quickly the four whirled around, shocked and angry.

“GET THAT CAT!” Older Miles ordered.

With that, the four scrambled after Meows, splitting up into different directions. As they all wound around the kitchen counter from different angles, Meows was running on the kitchen tile, in an attempt to hide somewhere.

As Meows tried to get to the hallway leading out of the kitchen though, 1610-Miles jumped out in front of him, making Meows skid to a stop. Before the cat could get away, 1610 scooped him up.

“Gotcha!” he said in victory.

But just as he said that, the lights flickered and the cabinets beside his head bursted open, before he was pelted by various snacks. Stunned by the onslaught, 1610 let Meows go as the latter scrambled away.

But, by this time, his brothers caught up, trapping Meows in a circle.

“Okay, Spot! You had your fun! Now let go of our cat!” Older Miles shouted at him.

As Meows looked around frantically, he slowly stopped and hung his head. And soon, to the brothers’ shock, Meows started to laugh.

“ Foolish mortals. ” Meows spoke in a dark voice. “ You’re messing with the wrong spirit. It’s only a matter of time before I enter this world… and wreak vengeance on you once and for all! ”

The four lurched backwards in fear, completely shocked and scared by the cat, or Spot, speaking.

“Why are you doing this to us?! What did we ever do to you?” 1610-Miles accused.

“ YOU RUINED MY LIFE! You may not remember, but YOU are the reason that I am like this. But now… I will not be forgotten. You will finally respect me. And you will FEAR ME– ”

Suddenly, Spot’s speech was cut short as he was hit by something. As the cat recoiled, a bagel landed right beside him. A bagel that was thrown by 42, who grabbed another one.

“GET OUT OF OUR CAT, SPOT!” he yelled, as he threw it.

As the bagel hit Spot again, he reeled. “ What are you doing?! STOP IT! ”

Quickly catching on, Older Miles stuck the bag of bagels out to his brothers, who each took one. And soon, all four of them were holding up the bagels and slowly closing in on Meows.

“The bagels rebuke you. The bagels rebuke you. THE BAGELS REBUKE YOU!”

Finally after the four repeated the banishing chanting, the cat yowled loudly and started to shake violently, desperately clawing at the counter behind him. And as the four brought the bagels closer, Meows soon collapsed, as a bright energy shot out of him.

Quickly, the four stumbled back, as the energy approached them, slowly taking the form of a tall man. As it did, Older Miles quickly recited the spell he had prepared:

“Spirits lost and roaming free,

Begone from here, it's time to flee.

Like bagels rise, you must depart,

Leave this place, with my whole heart!”

The energy seemed to convulse, as the shape of the man faltered, as if he was in great pain. As the four watched, 42 looked at Older Miles worriedly.

“It’s not working! What are we gonna do?” he asked frantically.

Older Miles glared before raising his bagel. “We do this.”

After he said that, he wound his arm up and threw the bagel at Spot, hitting him right on his head. Finally, the spirit screamed in defeat, as it started to cave in on itself and suddenly disappeared into thin air with a loud POP.

A few moments passed, leaving the kitchen in silence. But after a while, the lights in the room turned on again, this time acting normally. And it seemed like a giant weight was lifted off the atmosphere, as the four brothers slowly laughed in relief.

“He… he’s GONE!” 1610-Miles exclaimed.

“For good this time!” Older Miles added.

Just then, Meows began to stir, drawing everyone’s attention.

“MEOWS!” Little Miles shrieked as he ran to his side.

Slowly, Meows blinked open his eyes before tilting his head curiously.

“Mew?” he purred innocently.

Overjoyed, Little Miles hugged the cat. “Oh, Meows! You’re alive! I thought we lost you!”

Miles-42 sighed in relief. “So Spot is really gone… damn. That was the craziest shit that ever happened to me.”

Older Miles started to pick up the fallen bagels. “For real. And now I’m weirdly craving bagels.”

“I feel like I should say sorry.” 1610-Miles said as he looked at his older brother. “You were right. And I guess we were wrong. Ghost summoning is no joke.”

Older Miles slowly smirked. “You wanna do it again?”

“NO!!” his brothers shouted with wide eyes full of fear.

“Yeah… me neither.”

— — —

So, was contacting the dead really worth it? Well, it’s complicated.

If you were to find yourself across some friendly ghosts, who are only reaching out for a simple conversation, then sure it is. After all, the world of spirits was vast, and included lots of friendly ghosts to talk to.

But, if you’re as unlucky as the Morales brothers, and if you were to get stuck with a vengeful demonic spirit, then it’s best to keep that door closed. Unless you want said spirit to possess your cat and you want to banish the spirit with bagels out of all things.

And it’s best that you learn that lesson fast before you try anything with the supernatural, before you end up scarred for life and end up sleeping in your brother’s room that very night.

Answer of the day: Definitely not (especially when your Ma comes home and yells at you for randomly making a mess of bagel crumbs in the kitchen)

Chapter Text

Question of the day: Who was the best chef out of the Morales brothers?

It seemed like a stupid question to ask, considering they’ve caused 6 small fires between the four of them.

The thought of any of the Miles having cooking skills was as laughable as thinking their Dad could become an accomplished rapper. Which, in other words, is to say it would be impossible. It’s been clear since their births that they did not inherit the chef genes from their mom, which is why they’ve never been left near a stove or an oven most of the time.

But when both parents are out of the house for the night and the kids start to get hungry, this could finally be the day they’re able to pull together a delicious meal.

Or alternatively, it could be the day the house finally burns down. Who knows?

+++

“Miles!! I’m hungry!” Little Miles whined.

Older Miles, who was scrolling on his phone, sighed as his eye twitched in annoyance. “And what do you want me to do about that, bichito.”

“SOMETHING! I WANT FOOD!”

Older Miles switched off his phone and locked eyes with the whining tot.

“You told me this FIFTY TIMES already, Miles! And I told you the same thing! I. Am. Not. Ordering. SUGAR RUSH!”

Little Miles stomped his foot. “But. I. Want. A. Mighty. MEAL!”

Older Miles groaned. “Ay yi yi.”

At that moment, the twins came down the stairs and into the living room.

“Hey! Bro! Me and twin want food, we’re hungry.” 1610-Miles told Older Miles.

Just then, Older Miles flopped backwards, startling them.

“One second alone, God. That’s all I ASK!” he growled, staring at the ceiling.

42 scoffed. “Dramatic ass. We’re just hungry. Stop being lazy and order some shit.”

Older Miles sat up, breathing in slowly. “Like I told Little Miles. Ma said we can’t order food. Which means if you want something, I have to cook.”

1610-Miles’s jaw dropped. “Ain’t no way. NAH! I’m not trying to get food poisoning from you!”

Older Miles froze. “The heck?! What are you talking about?”

“Bro. The last time you cooked in this house, the kitchen was messed up for WEEKS! And it was a premade lasagna!” 1610 accused.

42’s eyes widened. “What the fuck? That was LASAGNA?! I thought it was meatloaf!”

“I thought it was a brick.” Little Miles chirped, smacking his lips distastefully. “It tasted like one too.”

Older Miles curled his lip. “Man, y’all just love to hate, huh…”

“Nah. Trying to not take years off of our lives because of your cooking isn’t hating, bro.” 1610 sighed.

“Look, I really don’t care what you’re complaining about. Because, you know what?” Older Miles then stood up. “Now I’m gonna cook dinner to PROVE YALL WRONG.”

“NO!” the three of them shouted in unison.

“Please! Spare our noses! And our tongues!” Little Miles begged.

“Lil bro’s right. Come on now. What did we do to deserve this?” 42 added.

Older Miles hissed, “Either you shut up and eat my food or starve, people. Y’all don’t have another option.”

1610-Miles was quiet, clearly thinking about something. Until, a slow grin split across his face.

“What if I cooked dinner?” he finally asked.

Immediately, everyone’s heads snapped towards 1610, appalled by the suggestion.

“OH HELL NAH!” 42 hollered.

1610 snapped his head towards his twin, eyes wide. “Huh?! What’s wrong?”

“Don’t play with me, fool. If Chef ‘Boyardumbass’ over here is bad at cooking, you’re even worse.”

1610-Miles’s eye twitched. “Now you’re just capping. Remember that time I made horchata? Y’all were tearing that shit up!”

Little Miles grimaced. “Yeah, about that… I threw it in the trash when you weren’t looking”

“I spit it down the sink.” Older Miles said, shuddering at the memory. “It was too bitter, something I didn’t even know was possible.”

“Horchata… more like hor-CACA.” 42 muttered.

1610-Miles’s jaw dropped. “You know what… now that y’all wanna dunk on me, I’m gonna say it.” He then lifted his hands up in surrender. “I’m a better cook than all of you. I SAID IT.”

At this, his brothers went into an uproar.

“If being a cook means making shit food, then yeah you’re better than us all!” Older Miles snapped.

“Turning around and calling yourself a good chef after causing the smoke alarms to go off is crazy…” 42 poked snidely.

“Oh please, says the guy who caused a fire making freaking TOAST–” 1610-Miles started to yell.

“EVERYONE STOP.”

The three older brothers slowly stopped bickering and turned to Little Miles, who had his hands up.

“Look. I’m hungry. Really REALLY hungry.” Little Miles started to say.

42 frowned. “When did we ask, dumbutt–”

“SO.” Little Miles shouted, narrowing his eyes at the interruption. “I think the way we can all agree on eating and seeing who can make the most best food is…. What if we have a contest?”

The three brothers blinked. “A… contest?”

“Yeah!” Little Miles confirmed, getting excited. “Like those cooking shows on TV! We can do it to see who’s actually a good cook!”

Older Miles pursed his lips. “Do you REALLY think we have the time for a whole cooking competition?? Please be serious.”

1610-Miles thought about it. “Actually… that’s not a bad idea. I’ve always wanted to do one of those, lowkey.”

42 rolled his eyes. “The only reason those stupid shows are interesting is because they throw money at you for winning. What would make this one not be lame as hell?”

“How about… whoever wins cleans the kitchen.” Little Miles suggested.

Older Miles’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy?! With these two bozos cooking in the kitchen, it’ll be a toxic hazard! That’d be impossible to clean!”

1610 smirked. “Well then you better hope you don’t lose, man.”

Little Miles squealed. “I’LL GET THE KITCHEN READY!”

As the three of them ran off, leaving Older Miles alone, the latter sighed and pulled up his phone.

“Siri… remind me to call the firefighters in an hour.” he mumbled.

{}{}{}

INT. MORALES’ KITCHEN - NIGHT

The kitchen appears to be prepped with everything a chef would need: ingredients, cutlery, pans, and much more. And standing in front of it is Little Miles decked out in a cute little tie.

LITTLE MILES

(excited)

Hello dear viewers! Welcome to the one and only… your favorite cooking show on the internet… SLICED!

A tiny little jingle plays as well as a track of prerecorded cheers.

LITTLE MILES

I’m your trusty host, Miles Morales! And I’d also like to introduce our celebrity judge and a dear friend of mine— Meows!

Cheering plays again. Camera pans to a black cat in the middle of grooming himself. He looks to the camera, startled at the attention, as the “crowd” laughs.

LITTLE MILES

(laughs)

Meows. Now’s not the time for pampering. We’re rolling and we got a show to film!

Little Miles enters the camera and guides a confused Meows to his original spot. Pre-recorded chuckles are heard.

LITTLE MILES

(smiles)

Now, folks. Today’s a very special episode. Not only is this the first and only episode of Sliced, but it also features a very interesting detail you haven’t seen before. You see, the contestants you’re about to see… aren’t chefs at all.

Daunting music and a track of pre-recorded gasps plays. Little Miles plays along as he widens his eyes.

LITTLE MILES

I know. We can’t believe it either! But it’s true. Not only have these poor souls never cooked a good meal a day in their lives, but they also leave destruction in the kitchen. Everything they touch turns into cracked eggs. Smoking pots. Burnt WATER—

Offscreen, an angry voice yells.

VOICE

MILES! Stop dragging crap out and get on with it already!

Little Miles glances to the side before leaning closer to the camera.

LITTLE MILES
(whispers)

Did I mention they’re total meanies?

Laughter plays. Little Miles shakes his head with a smirk.

LITTLE MILES

Alright, I’m done. Let’s just bring them out already, what do you guys say?

Cheers play as the show’s theme plays again. Camera cuts to stage right, which shows the entryway into the kitchen.

LITTLE MILES (voice)

The first guest we have happens to be… Miles Morales!

A new person enters: a tall teen with an Afro puff. He smiles and winks at the camera.

LITTLE MILES


This charming chap claims to be well known for many things. His striking height, his immaculate rizz, and er… “the exaggerated swagger of a black teen”?? Miles, I told you I don’t know what that is!

Miles takes his place behind the kitchen island, crossing his arms with confidence. Little Miles enters the frame, carrying a toy resembling a mic.

LITTLE MILES

Alright Miles. Welcome to SLICED! Do you have anything to tell our dear audience?

Little Miles points the “mic” to Miles.

MILES

(grins)

Nothing much. Just that despite what y’all heard, I AM the best chef you’ll ever find on this show! You can ask my ma; my food is so good it brings her to tears.

Little Miles brings back the mic, looking at the camera with a grimace.

LITTLE MILES

(whispers)

I think we all know those are tears of pain…

Laughter plays, as Miles frowns. But before he could speak, music was playing again, as the camera cut to the entryway again.

LITTLE MILES (voice)

Next up, we have our second contestant. We welcome to the stage… Miles Morales!

Cheering plays as a boy identical to Miles walks out, wearing cornrows and an apparent scowl.

LITTLE MILES

This moody menace happens to be the twin brother of our first contestant. And although they look creepily alike, they could not be any more different! One we can live happily with, and the other makes us live in fear of the day he burns the house down!

Miles #2 takes his place next to his twin, and sends a death glare at the camera.

MIlES #2

If you don’t stop yapping, I’m gonna shove your butt into the sink headfirst.

Little Miles appears to sweat, as he gulps loudly. He cautiously moves to Miles #2 and stretches out his mic.

LITTLE MILES

(nervous)

Er… do you have anything to say to our audience.

MILES #2

(shrugs)

Sure. (Flips up middle finger casually)

Pre-recorded gasps play as Little Miles quickly runs to the camera and positions the camera away

LITTLE MILES

Geez Louise! Think of the children! Sorry about that, folks. That was… a glitch on our part.

MILES 1

(smugly)

No it wasn’t–

Music cuts him off as Little Miles spins the camera to the entryway.

LITTLE MILES

OKAY! Let’s introduce our final guest on the show. Let’s welcome… Miles Morales!

An older guy with locs walks in, muttering “about time”.

LITTLE MILES (voice)

Now, being the oldest out of us all, you’d think this smart fellow would know even the basics of cooking. WRONG! This man can’t even make a salad without burning the lettuce!

Laughter plays, as Miles 3 groans.

MILES 3

Oh, for crying out loud! I GET IT, okay?! How was I supposed to know you aren’t supposed to grill a salad?! It’s called a GRILLED chicken salad!

As Miles 3 takes his place among the two others, the camera turns to Little Miles.

LITTLE MILES

And there you have it, folks! Our three contestants: Miles, Miles, and, you guessed it, Miles!

Cheers and laughter plays.

LITTLE MILES

Now, you may be wondering: Hey, what’s the deal with the names! Well sad to say we were all named that. I’m sure you’ve heard of same-name siblings before; just ask the British! 

(Pauses for laughter)

So, to avoid any confusion, we’ve taken the liberty of naming them Miles 1, Miles2, and Miles3.

MILES 2

(rolls his eyes and says in sarcastic tone)

Sure. That won’t get confusing at ALL… 

LITTLE MILES

(smiles awkwardly before looking at the camera)

With that settled, let’s go over some game rules! They’re pretty straightforward. We’re giving these guys 30 minutes to cook a delicious dinner of their choice! Food will be provided for ingredients, but it’s up to them to make them into something! When time’s up, your trusty tasters (points to himself and Meows) will judge which one is the tastiest! (whispers)Or, in this case, which one is safe to eat. (normal voice) The tastiest meal will then get our approval and win SLICED! And the losers, well, they’ll be in charge of scraping the burns off the walls! 

(turns dramatically to another camera angle)

Oh, and I almost forgot. If one of these people manage to make a meal SO foul, so nasty that it makes everyone faint looking at it, then they’ll be given a very special award of “Worst Cook in the World”! Granted, they’ll still lose, but this lets them know that there’s no hope for them to be a good cook! Ever!

MILES 3

(frowns)

These rules seem a little arbitrary.

LITTLE MILES

(smiles)

Oh! Thank you.(turns to camera) Now, with no further questions, and 30 minutes on the clock, what are we gonna do?

A track of pre-recorded lines played at the same time Little Miles spoke again.

CROWD and LITTLE MILES

Let. Them. Cook!

CUT TO:

INT. MORALES KITCHEN - FOOD PREP AREA 1 - NIGHT

Miles 1 rushed to his station, where a cookbook of options waited for him. As he flipped through hurriedly, a voiceover played.

MILES 1 (voiceover)

Um… do I just speak here? … the recording’s playing?! OH! Uh, what’s good, yall. It’s Miles here. And here I am, looking at things to make. Yeah…

(zooms in on Miles 1 contemplating a dish)

Uh, look. I have no idea what this competition is. Or how Little Miles is filming this with a whole-ass camera crew setup… But, all I know is that I gotta win. There’s no WAY I’m being named the “Worst Cook Ever” or cleaning up the mess we’re gonna make in the kitchen. So, I gotta clutch like I always do. Which is why I decided to make…

Miles 1’s real voice overtakes the voiceover.

MILES 1

(lands on a page with an excited gasp)

Tacos!

MILES 1 (voiceover)

Yeah… That. I guess from my perspective, it’s really easy to make. I mean, come on. Who fails at TACOS. So naturally I knew I was gonna throw DOWN on this. 

Miles 1 skimmed the ingredients.

MILES 1

Okay… 1 pound ground beef, 1 small onion, 2… Huh?! The heck is a clove?? And WHAT’S A MINCE?!

From afar, Little Miles watches with a smirk, looks at Meows, and shakes his head.

LITTLE MILES

Looks like Miles 1 is out of his element here. What do ya think, Meows? Will he be able to pull through?

Meows blinks slowly at Little Miles, clearly bored, before catching sight of a rolling blueberry and pouncing after it.

LITTLE MILES

(surprised)

Woah! That blueberry seems to be coming from Miles 3’s side. Let’s zoom on over there, shall we?

Camera cuts to FOOD PREP AREA 3, where Miles 3 was in the middle of throwing an assortment of ingredients on the table.

MILES 3 (voiceover)

Well… hi guys. It’s Miles, the oldest. And I just like to say something. As much as I pretend that this “show” is stupid and unimportant, honestly, I’m really banking on this. Every day, I’m teased about being a bad cook. But after this, they’ll be EATING their stupid words! My culinary skills are UNMATCHED, and I’m prepared to show it through the techniques I’ve–

Suddenly a TV glitch beep cuts the speech off, as Little Miles’s voice speaks.

LITTLE MILES (voice)

Warning: For your viewing pleasure and to save your poor ears from listening to a nap-inducing speech, we took the liberties of chopping off the annoying bits and fast-forwarding the speech you are hearing now. Thank you for your patience and back to the show.

Voiceover of Miles 3 resumes.

MILES 3 (voiceover)

… And that’s how I was able to get an honorary medal for my 5th grade bake club competition with just a recipe and a dream. Anyways, I’m getting off track. Back to what I’m doing. I just decided to make a simple chocolate and blueberry tart for my dish! It has a simple flavor profile, but delicious enough to steal the top spot! Just watch me!

Just as he says that, Miles 3 is seen dropping a whole carton of blueberries on the floor.

MILES 3 (voiceover)

… Nevermind. Don’t watch me. Look somewhere else.

Camera cuts to FOOD PREP AREA 2, where Miles 2 is getting his things together.

MILES 2 (voiceover)

I’m making a salad.

Silence is present for a moment before hurried whispering is heard in the background of the voiceover.

MILES 2 (voiceover)

What else is there to say?? I’m making a fucking salad. Ugh, fine. It’s a salad… with vegetables and fruit. Is that better?!

Camera cuts to Little Miles and Meows, who are sitting at the kitchen table

LITTLE MILES

(smiles)

Now that we’ve checked in with contestants, all we need to do is wait until the food is served. While that goes on, I’ll pass the time with a little interview with our celebrity judge! So Meows. How does it feel to be the first AND only cat to judge on SLICED?

Meows rolls his eyes.

MEOWS

Meow. (I have no idea why I’m here doing this stupid show.) 

LITTLE MILES

(laughs)

Yeah! I bet it feels amazing! But I gotta say. You’re really popular in the Morales’ household, especially with the parents! What’s your secret?

MEOWS

Mrrr. (Can I leave now.)

Little Miles’s eyes widened in awe.

LITTLE MILES
(awestruck)

Wow. Truly inspiring. Well, you heard it here, folks! Give it up for Meows!

Pre-recorded cheers play as Meows flattens his ears at the sudden sound. Suddenly, a loud CRASH is heard off-camera, scaring both Meows and Little Miles.

LITTLE MILES

WOAH! Gah-LEE! What was that noise?

Camera pans to Miles 1 carrying a pan to the sink frantically. As the camera zooms in, it seems that the contents in the pan had bursted into a small patch of flames.

Miles 1

OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT!

Camera turns to Little Miles, who looks into the camera dramatically.

LITTLE MILES

Uh-oh! Looks like something just got BURNED! And I haven’t even pulled out my list of roasts yet!

As pre-recorded laughs played, Miles 1 finally got it into the sink and doused the flames with the faucet.

MILES 1

(panting)

Oh my god… okay. It’s okay, yall! I put it out!

As Miles 1 sighs in relief, the other two “contestants” side-eye him with smug grins.

CUT TO:

INT. CONFESSIONALS (aka LIVING ROOM)

Miles 3 lays back on the couch, smiling.

MILES 3

You know, I always told him that he was biting off more than he could chew when he claimed to be a better chef than me. But he never listened. And look where that got him: sweating over a fire. Like I said: Eating. His. Words. Hopefully he doesn’t eat what he’s making though; it may be fouler than his words.

Camera cuts to another confessional with Miles 1

MILES 1

(chuckles awkwardly)

Come on y'all. Let’s be serious for a moment. What fire are we talking about? There wasn’t a fire… Oh. You mean the pan? PFFT, please. It’s SUPPOSED to look like that. Fam, you gotta trust the process. A little smoke doesn’t mean it’s trash. It’s all a part of the Morales charm.

CUTS TO:

INT. COMPETITION AREA

LITTLE MILES

Now don’t be worried, you guys. We may have had a little fire, but we won’t let THAT stop our fun. With that said, we have TEN MINUTES LEFT ON THE CLOCK!

Camera cuts to a Spidey plush holding a digital clock that reads 10:00. After a few seconds, it cuts back to all three contestants scrambling.

LITTLE MILES

Yeesh. I haven’t seen this much scrambling since Mami cooked scrambled eggs yesterday! I guess this is where things are starting to get “eggs-citing” now!

Pre-recorded laughter plays, as Little Miles holds up his hands with a smug smile.

LITTLE MILES

Hmm. I’m “waffling” on what to say now. What? You think I’m gonna stop with the puns? Please. I have a list in my back pocket that’s “toast-ally” awesome, and every pun I say gets “batter” and batter”. So, “omelette” you guys go over to watch the action, while I get to “cracking” some “eggs-cellent” jokes!

MIlES 2 (voice)

WILL YOU SHUT UP?!

Little Miles looks off to the side before he gives a shrug to the camera. As laughter plays, the camera cuts to Miles 2, who was entirely too focused on slicing avocado.

MILES 2 (voiceover)

Ugh, I still gotta do this shit?! Fine. If you dumbasses can’t see what I’m CLEARLY doing, I’m slicing up some shit for my salad. I don’t even know what the hell I’m slicing. Ava… Ay-voc-adoo? Tch. “It’s avocado”? SAME THING!

Camera zooms in on Miles 2 struggling to cut down into the avocado with a big knife .

MILES 2 (voiceover)

Anyways, this avocado or whatever the fuck… it’s so weird for no reason. I’m trying to cut into this bitch, but there’s literally this weird brown thing in the middle. That thing’s a BITCH to cut through bro. But, whatever, I’m halfway through it and I got my slices on the side. I wonder what the thing in the middle tastes like though. Man, avocados are fucking weird…

Camera cuts to Miles 3’s station, just as he takes a weirdly shaped thing out of the oven, something burnt and black. He sniffs it with a smile.

MILES 3

I’m telling you. This is it. This tart’s gonna blow the judges away!

Miles 3 sets it onto the counter, as the surface of the tart bubbles. The camera zooms in on it, as a little steam comes out of a popped one.

MILES 3

Yeah… It’s supposed to bubble like that, I think. Something about the jam and the crust congealing and mixing in order to form that flavor profile. It’s chef stuff you wouldn’t understand

Suddenly, a loud ding chimes, as the camera cuts to the Spidey clock. The clock reads out 1:59.

LITTLE MILES

ALERT ALERT PEOPLE! WE NOW HAVE TWO MINUTES ON THE CLOCK! PLATE YOUR DISHES AND LETS GET THIS BREAD! OTHERWISE YOU’RE TOAST!

As dramatic music plays, the three contestants struggle to get their food on the plates provided. Miles 1 was in the middle of getting the soft tortilla of the taco to stand, to no avail. Miles 3 was trying to cut the tart in a way that didn’t release a large amount of blueberry jam and burnt chunks of crust.

Miles quickly tossed his salad in a bowl, picked it up, and rushed to the plate. But suddenly, his foot slipped and he jolted forward, accidentally flipping the bowl over and flicking the salad onto the ground.

MILES 2

(whispers)

Shit!

As Miles 2 crouches down to pick up the salad and haphazardly throws it into the bowl, the camera gets to his level before Miles 2 suddenly reaches out and snatches it.

MILES 2

(scowls)

Listen here, Pendejo. You say a SINGLE word about this shit, I won’t be happy. I know who you are. I know where you live. Say a single thing that makes me disqualified, and I will find you. I. Will. Kill. You. Capeesh?

The camera shakes, as if nodding, before Miles 2 releases it. Hurried breathing is heard in the background as the camera pulls away from Miles 2 and hurries to the judges’ table, just as Little Miles counts down.

LITTLE MILES

Five… Four… Three… Two… One… TIMES UP!

Simultaneously, the three lift their hands up, each of them looking apprehensive.

LITTLE MILES

Whoo! Would you look at that? Everyone was able to finish on time and have their plates done. I wanna say I’m impressed… but we have to see if their food is… good. So stop the cooking and start the eating!

CUTS TO:

JUDGES’ TABLE

Little Miles and Meows are sitting on one side while the three brothers sit on the other side. In front of the judges laid three dishes (none of which look appetizing)

LITTLE MILES

(looks at camera)

Here we go, yall. My favorite part of the show. Or, what could turn out to be the worst part. The tasting! Ooh, can you feel the excitement? Kinda makes you wanna RAP! 

We're heating up the stove, we're in the zone, 

On this amateur cooking show, we've found our own. 

With pots and pans, we flip and we throw–

ALL THREE MILES
(in unison)

SHUT UP, MILES!

Little Miles shut his mouth, before looking at the camera in disappointment.

LITTLE MILES

(pouting)See? No one appreciates lyrical genius when they see it. (goes back to grin) Anyways, we’re gonna start off with Miles 1’s dish. Why don’t you describe it to us?

MILES 1

(grins) Sure!

Camera cuts to a close up of Miles 1’s plate. Three tacos are lined up; soft tortillas stuffed with a mysterious blackened food as well as way too much cheese and sour cream.

MILES 1 (voiceover)

I prepared my very own tacos. I don’t think these need much explanation; just that it’s gonna be the best thing you’ve tasted!

Camera cuts to tacos appearing on tiny plates for Meows and Little Miles. Both of them eye it cautiously.

LITTLE MILES

Er… wow! These look interesting! (pokes at black food in taco) Are those… beans?

MILES 1

(frowns) Nah. I didn’t put beans in there.

LITTLE MILES
(smiles awkwardly)

OH! Nevermind. I thought this would be edible. My mistake.

Little Miles finally takes the taco and takes a bite, just as Meows nibbles at it. After a second, Little Miles chokes, coughing out the bite.

LITTLE MILES

AH! AH! AH! IT'S HOT! MA TONGUE!

Little Miles grabs the cup of water beside him and gulps it down quickly. Tears form in his eyes.

LITTLE MILES

What was THAT?! It tastes like– like a car tire! A car tire dipped in acid!

Miles 1 stares at him with a dead expression, while 2 and 3 cackle.

MILES 1

Stop the cap. It’s not that bad.

Little Miles waves at his face, looking up with red eyes.

LITTLE MILES

AY! I can feel my taste buds DYING!

MEOWS

(licks lips and shrugs) Mew. (Mid. Needs more pepper.)

MILES 1

(kisses teeth) Man, yall are on some bullshit.

LITTLE MILES
(falls out of chair)
OH MY GOSH I CAN’T I CAN’T WHAT THE F—

Suddenly, the camera switches to a color bar screen, with the words “WE’LL BE RIGHT BACK IN A FEW SHORT MOMENTS”. After a short pause, the camera switches back to Little Miles, who seems much more composed.

LITTLE MILES

(sighs) Sorry about that, folks. We had to do a short break for me to recover from the recent attack on our poor tongues. I’m okay now, as I gained a good portion of my sight back. (shudders) So, I guess we’ll move onto Miles 2’s dish. Describe it for us, please.

Camera cuts to a close up of Miles 2’s plate. It’s a salad with spinach, wrongly sliced avocado, whole tomatoes, and even uncut baby carrots.

MILES 2 (voiceover)

Are you blind or sum? It’s a salad, fool. What else do you want me to say??

Camera cuts to Little Miles and Meows observing their portions.

LITTLE MILES

(Sarcastically) Wow. What a wonderful description. (pokes at food) Um… is it supposed to look like this though? I’m pretty sure you slice the tomatoes up or something. Also it looks like it’s been on the floor.

MILES 2

No it hasn’t! It came from the bowl and onto the plate, dumbbutt!

Camera slowly pans to Miles 2, who looks into it and bares his teeth slightly, making a jerking motion across his throat with his thumb. Camera quickly jerks back to Little Miles, who takes an avocado and bites into it.

An audible CRUNCH is heard, and Little Miles chews it with much difficulty

LITTLE MILES

Hm. Interesting. It’s got a little kick.

Suddenly, Little Miles’s face scrunches up and he spits it back out.

LITTLE MILES

EWWW! WHY DOES IT TASTE LIKE THAT?! IT TASTES LIKE SOAP! EUGH!

Meows, meanwhile, takes a small bite of the tomato before jolting back, yowling.

MEOWS

YOWL! (WHO THE HELL PUT TOMATO ON THIS SHIT?! I HATE TOMATOES!)

Miles 2 sits there, crossing his arms and glaring.

MILES 2

Keep acting like a fool. I hope you choke.

As Little Miles and Meows calms down, Little Miles pants.

LITTLE MILES

Urgh. We’re not off to a good start. Let’s hope that Miles 3’s dish saves the day. Can we get to that one before my tongue shrivels up??

MILES 3

(smirks)

Of course.

Camera cuts to a close up of Miles 3’s dish. It’s a very burnt pie-like thing, similar to a flat crust-type of slice.

MILES 3

I’ve prepared some dessert to finish off the horrible dinner you just had. It’s a chocolate-blueberry tart. The filling is blueberry jam and the crust is chocolate.

Camera cuts to Little Miles observing his portion.

LITTLE MILES

Wow! To be honest, this seems like the least horrible thing I’ve seen so far. I bet you would like it, Meows.

No answer comes, as Meows’ seat is empty.

LITTLE MILES

(turns around in confusion) Uh… Meows?!

CUT TO:

CONFESSIONAL

Meows sits on the couch, licking a paw lazily before looking up with a raised eyebrow.

MEOWS

Mrraow (You REALLY thought I was gonna eat that?! Clearly cats don’t eat chocolate, so I booked it out of there before it was shoved down my throat. Imagine thinking I’d eat it. Hah, y’all stupid.)

Camera cuts back to Little Miles taking a fork and trying to dig into the tart. But, as he struggled, he barely made a dent. Finally, he gives up and picks up the tart, biting into it.

LITTLE MILES

(nods with a closed smile) Mm!

Miles 1 and Miles 2 look shocked as they snap their heads to Miles 3, who looks victorious.

MILES 3

HAH! FINALLY! I WON YALL! SUCK IT.

MILES 1