One, big, fat fart echoed across the room.
I was just sitting there, on the couch, minding my own business on the computer. I had to finish a science project, and my brother was on his phone behind me, sitting on the second step of the stairs. I slowly turned around and faced my brother, with one pre-prepared nasty look on my face.
"Bro, if you're going to let it rip, go outside."
But of course, my brother being a hella moody piece of 14-year-old garbage, didn't budge and just laughed. "Well," he said between chuckles, "the silent ones are deadly. Maybe the loud ones don't stink?"
"Like you?" I retorted.
"Can you play nice?"
"Since when did we play nice?"
Trying to provoke him, I said "Sorry, but you ruined my life before I was even born!"
A feigned sad smile crossed his lips. "Oh, I remember that one and a half year, when you didn't exist." He wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Ah, the beautiful good old days. Until you came along, you little demon-"
I stopped him with a pillow. I threw it at his face, and since he had his mouth open for another insult, I gave him one big mouthful of unwashed pillow.
I laughed at his priceless expression and glanced at the tag of an identical pillow. "Eat some cotton, bro. Maybe that grows brain cells."
He grumbled something about the existence of pillow demons and returned to phone, and god-knows-what on it.
I return to my science project, typing furiously. After a while, I ask "Hey, bro, how does cellular respiration help the body-"
I put my computer down on the couch and stand up, my jaw on the floor. "If you're going to release a bunch of highly radioactive anus applauses, might as well go outside! I don't want to wear a gas mask in this household!"
"Chill, sis! They're just Clash Royal sound effects." As he said these words, he pressed on his phone screen, and one enormous fart noise resonated the room.
"I swear to God, whoppee cushions-"
"That's getting old."
"Hmmm, how about this!"
My brother plays a laugh, except it was all twisted and pyshcopathic like this "HiHaAhihOoooHohaAmHWaAaaaA!"
The next sounds sounded like:
- A constipated duck
- Me every morning
- When I kick my brother
- Me when I hurt myself, especially in the face.
- Me, being stupid
"STOP." I almost screeched, even if I was fighting a laugh. "That is not what I'm asking. I doubt that this is about cellular respiration?"
My brother played a sound of someone crying.
"And," I added, "Why in the world would Clash Royale put so many weird sound effects?"
He continued playing sound effects, all of them weirder than the last one. Once he played them all, he settled on the fart noises, him being a totally mature teenager.
The next day, I showed him the previous episode of this episode. He laughed a lot, and it made me a lot more happy than I would admit. Once he retreated to his computer, I said cockily "Hey, it's not bad to had a sister that's a writer?"
"It's not bad."
I beamed against my will.
"It's terrible." He said with a grin. He saw my crestfallen yet amused expression. He chuckled harder.
I cracked a crooked smile and shook my head, my brown hair falling around my face. Hair just like my brother.
Ehh. A family is a family.
Author Notes: Again, actually happened. *sigh*