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"Ah, no, my face." Clint flails with one hand as he holds the three year old up with the other. She's giggling as she wraps her arms around Clint's head tighter, his nose crushed against her belly. "Philllll, save meeeee."
Phil, for his part, is carrying Peter under one arm and recording the whole thing. Little fingers keep reaching for the camera, but Phil blows raspberries at the boy's palm to make him pull away. And giggle. Peter is quite the giggler around Phil. "You're on your own. You got yourself into that mess."
"Papa!" Sierra shrieks at Phil, "'m not messy. I cleeeeean." Clint blows against her belly, shaking his head back and forth making her squeal. "Daddy, no! No, Daddy, no!" She shakes her head emphatically, little red-gold curls flying about her face. "Stooooooop!"
"Rar." Clint mimes biting her belly. "Hungry tiger goes om nom nom." He ingores the snort from his husband because, really, he's done his share of stupidly cute things too.
Peter bounces on Phil's hip, trying to get more attention or the camera, he's not sure which. Phil smirks and inches closer to the distracted younger man. He lifts Peter up and nods to Clint. "Go see Daddy."
"Daddy!" Peter crows, clinging to Clint's neck and hanging on as Phil balances him with a supportive hand to his rear.
"Nooooo, they're going to keeeeel meeee." Clint wails into Sierra's belly, carefully sinking to the floor so they won't drop if they do fall. He reaches back and braces an arm under Peter, allowing Phil to move back and record it all.
"No! No kill Daddy." Peter squeezes around his neck and Clint almost chokes a little. He blows a raspberry—a slobbery wet one—against the back of his father's neck.
"Oh, yuck." Clint mutters. He leans to the side slowly. "I'm dyin'. They got me Phil..." He flops on the floor as Sierra and Peter let go. They look at Clint and then each other as Clint reaches for Phil and whispers, "Avenge meeeee."
Phil chuckles as his children turn to face him. He can see what's going to happen before it does. They charge him and he holds the camera high as two small bodies slam into his knees and he let's himself control-drop to the floor. He turns the camera off and sets it on a table before anything can happen to it. It's a good ending for a first home movie, he thinks.
Sierra and Peter each curl up on one of Phil's thighs, leaning against his chest and staring at Clint. Who doesn't move. Phil pokes his butt with a toe. Nothing. "I think you need to tickle him..." he whispers.
He can see Clint twitch and once again the children are charging...
Really, Clint had no chance of survival from the beginning.