Blackfoot Forest The Unicorn Lived in a Lilac Wood, and she lived all alone

Nice writing.



It was not in Gramps nature to be impressed, though it was entirely common for the opposite. What happened next - the pup taking up the challenge without wasting words and completing it in a comparable fashion - wiped away Gramps smirk and left it with a silent gaze of slight reverie. That emotion had last appeared several years ago, the occasion of which he couldn't remember.

Now was the time to congratulate the youngster for his accomplishment. "Hmpffff.", he huffed with indifference and a scowl, which was old-man-speak for the congratulations.

As the pup tried to recover from the feat, bodily liquids seeming to ooze from over possible place, he winced, turning his head as if trying to unsee it. His stomach knotted and a retch threatened his throat. He quieted his disgust with his usual favorite thoughts of disdain: why were pups always sticky, why were youngsters so horribly proportioned, why was cute so disgusting, and so on and so forth.

The littler one seemed to gawk in surprise, to which Gramps met with an empty gaze. So what he'd said didn't make sense? "Neither does eating a bug.", he responded coldly. His description was far from what had actually happened, but he wasn't one to be floral with his words unless a piggy-back ride was involved.

In a vivid display of theatrics, the pup made himself smaller, a natural sign of submission, which Gramps enjoyed - it was about time someone around here paid him the respect he was owed. But the rest of it was nauseatingly energetic.

"You waste too much energy.", he stated dismissively, always one to be a negative downer. He wished he had the mobility to knead his eyebrows with the brewing headache of motion sickness, as if having ridden a rollercoaster. Merely watching the pup was surely the equivalent of such. But, did that make him old? Should he just consign himself to the nursing home and Depends now? He willed himself to rise above the desire to haze the kid for merely being too fluffy, too wide-eyed, too talkative, too ... too ... too annoyingly existent.

"Go fetch your old man a bee-", what was the equivalent? " -beeig red mushroom.", he corrected. "And I'll tell you a story.", he plopped down on his rear end, as if the ground were a lazy-boy, with matching groan. "A is for asexual. Whenever a girl says she's that you're not trying hard enough. B is for bitch. That's a female. And also someone who's mean. See how they're the same thing? Haha. C is for coit...", he began to tell a sexist, profane alphabet, not minding the fact that this child wasn't his son, that the alphabet wasn't a story, and that this was hardly appropriate for children.

He had forgotten to respond about the noogie in his old age. Had he remembered, he might have had a good come-back.