Practical Jokes

[birdyballerina]

The Best Joke
By Wizera

Today was a special day in the Crystal Realm. The Festival of the Maidens, if Cordelia had translated the calendar correctly. And while there were very few maidens in the traditional sense of the word living in Jhelbor, a celebration was clearly in order. The fact of the matter was that it had been a long time since the tree babies had had anything worth celebrating. For a long stretch of months, nothing seemed to go right, but finally, Cordelia sensed that things were beginning to level out. A few small victories had afforded her enough breathing space to consider some kind of morale booster. Of course, she didn’t want to jinx their good fortune by celebrating their successes outright, so she settled on holding a feast for the next holiday she could think of, which just happened to be the Festival of the Maidens.

She had taken pains to see that everything was perfect for the day. Cris and Cho were given the task of preparing a feast. As arguably the two best chefs in the city (Cherry could bake a mean baked potato, Ginny was great with eggs, and Hood usually managed a decent ice cream, though his flavors were often questionable) Cris and Cho failed to disappoint.

The card room of the Frolicking Stoat was converted into a dining room, all of the tables pushed together, end to end, to make room for all the tree babies. Pink paper lanterns and long lengths of shimmery pink fabric were strung up against the walls and from the ceiling. Cordelia wanted it to be a special occasion, so she asked everyone to put on their best. She had to admit, however, they were still a rag tag collection. Each of them simply had a different take on what their “best” actually was. Nevertheless, she was pleased. At least they were an attractive group of people, all things told.

Unfortunately, the conversation did not match the décor. Cordelia had hoped so desperately for a pleasant dinner without any talk of the hazards of war, a courtly evening of meaningless small talk and bad jokes that everyone laughed at but no one got except for the teller. She hadn’t counted on Barney.

“I will always choose bimbos,” he was telling Hood, who looked as if he would rather be left alone.

“That’s nice, Barney,” Hood murmured, trying to pay attention to his food.

“Bimbos make me happy,” Barney rattled on. “Bimbos make me feel alive. Bimbos make me want to pretend to be a better man.”

“I’m confused,” JY said, walking into the room with a tray of the special gimlet Cris had prepared for the occasion. “What’s a bimbo?”

Barney laughed triumphantly at this. “You know who is confused? Bimbos. They're easily confused. It's one of the thousand little things I love about them. I love their vacant, trusting stares. Their sluggish, unencumbered minds, their unresolved daddy issues. I love them, J to the Y, and they love me. Bimbos have always been there for me, through thick and thin -- mostly thin. B-man don't do thick crust. What up?!” He lifted his hand victoriously to JY, awaiting the high five he felt he clearly deserved.

JY lifted both eyebrows, looking up at the ceiling. “Just the lanterns,” he murmured.

“Thank you for being so literal,” Barney grumbled, lowering his hand in bitter disappointment. He glanced over at Cherry. “Would you pass the salt?”

Cho bristled as the salt was handed over. “What? My cooking doesn’t need salt.”

“Perhaps we should prepare you something better suited to your palette’s sophistication,” Ianto muttered. “How about a nice bowl of applesauce?” Several people sniggered at this. Now this was more like it for Cordelia, but her respite was short-lived.

“I’m fine,” Barney insisted. With that, he turned the salt shaker over and immediately, the cap fell off, spilling a mountain of grainy white salt over his plate. A few people laughed, but Barney looked quite disgruntled. “Oh, ha ha,” he snapped, glaring down the table at Cherry. “I suppose you have something to say about this?”

Cherry shrugged without even looking up from her food. “You should eat less salt,” she replied. “It’s bad for your health.”

“Very funny,” Barney muttered, scooping the salt back into the shaker. “You know, I’ve seen better practical jokes. I wouldn’t mind a joke if it was intelligent, but this…this is just stupid. I’ve seen way better.”

“Oh yeah?” Cris challenged him.

“What would be better?” Cherry countered, still playing innocent.

“Something with flare, with imagination, with style.” Barney slapped a hand on the table. “Marshall,” he declared passionately, revoking the name of his former bro. “He knew a great joke.”

“Oh really?” Cherry asked. “And what kind of brilliant jokes did he come up with?”

“He…he…” Barney hesitated. “The dribble cup,” he finally said. “He was an expert at the dribble cup.” Again, he lifted his hand. “I request the highest of fives!”

“That’s it?” Cherry drawled.

“Aren’t you a little old for that nonsense?” Ianto mused.

“Practical jokes know no age restrictions, much like stripping in the Midwest,” Barney declared. “We thought that one up together. That’s one of hundreds of classis we pulled. There was this one time,” Barney continued, now laughing. “Oh, it was priceless. You see, Ted had gotten this girl’s phone number,” there were tears in his eyes, “and he was texting her. But really…really, he was texting us. So Marshall and I just started pretending to be her.” He was in hysterics now. Unfortunately, half of the table was giving him completely blank stares, having no idea what texting meant.

Cherry rolled her eyes. “You and Marshall were quite the duo, weren’t you?”

“Yes, yes we were. We inspired each other. We rose to new heights of good, clean perversion.”

“There’s gotta be something better than that,” Cris challenged Barney.

“I remember,” Barney declared, “one morning after last call, he hoisted Carl’s underpants up a flagpole.”

Bret laughed. “Skivvies on the wing? That’s rich!”

“It was artful,” Barney insisted. “Marshall was ahead of his time.”

Cordelia sighed, picking up her glass of rosewine. This was a rare treat. She had had it imported all the way from Kingstown. To add to that, they had managed to procure a gross of ice cubes, a treat too long taken for granted. She was about to take a sip when she noticed something dark in the ice. Carefully, she set the glass down and picked up her spoon, fishing around until she discovered the source of her troubles, a great, ugly black fly frozen in one of the ice cubes. “Oh,” she groaned, flinging it across the room. “Very, funny. I wonder he could be responsible for a stupid joke like this. As if I didn’t know, Barney and Cherry.”

“Don’t look at me, Cordy,” Barney replied. “Open your brain tank, cuz here comes some premium 91 octane knowledge: If the word stupid is attached to it, it is clearly the work of Cherry.” He jerked his thumb toward her. “There’s your idiot.”

“Congratulations, Cherry,” Ianto chuckled. “That joke puts you up there with about a million shriners and fraternity boys.”

“Come to think of it, that joke does have whiskers on it,” Bret piped up from across the table.

“Do you remember a time when jokes were original?” Demyx asked. “I think they’re all getting worn out from the old days.”

“Ah the good old days,” Cherry sighed. “Like back when Marshall was around.” Cherry shifted the food on her plate thoughtfully. “Oh yeah, I’ll bet old Marshall was the best,” she said quietly after a few moments of silence.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Barney shot back.

“You know, I’m sure if old Marshall were here now, he could probably get a whole bunch of you at once. Yeah. He could pull something on each and every one of you. And do it in only one day.”

Bret leaned forward. “Are you proposing a joke-out?” he asked, scrutinizing Cherry’ all too neutral face.

Cherry shook her head in mock sincerity. “Oh, no, no. I’m just talking about the legendary Marshall. Anyone who could do that would certainly be the world’s greatest scamp.”

Hood smiled. “When does it start?” she asked eagerly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Cherry answered with a shrug. “Don’t these things usually start at sunrise?”

“What kind of stakes did you have in mind?” Cordelia found herself wondering in spite of her longing for a quite meal.

“Well,” Cherry muttered absently, “if old Marshall were here, he’d probably want something petty.”

Barney snorted. “Oh? How petty are we talking?”

“Oh, I imagine he’d want to see everyone he got…do a striptease on this table,” Cherry patted the tabletop, “while singing a sea shanty.”

“And what if everybody doesn’t get gotten?” Barney asked.

“Then I guess the tables would be turned.”

He laughed uproariously. “Something funny, Barney?” Hood questioned him.

“Oh,” Barney chuckled, “Oh, that would be incredible.”

JY quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because,” Barney explained. “I would love to see her,” he gestured to Cherry, “singing about setting the topsails without her bottoms. What up?!”

“I can understand that, Barney,” she said breezily. At once, her casual voice became a low hiss. “Because anybody who wanted to get everybody would want to get you the worst of all.”

“Ooooo…” Cris marveled. “She’s got you in a vice.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Barney grumbled, waving his hand dismissively. “Well, she’s not gonna get me!”

“Me?” Cherry asked innocently. “Oh, I don’t go in for that kind of childishness.”

“Sure you don’t,” Barney said, gesturing to the salt shaker.

“Well,” Cordelia sighed, leaning back in her chair. “This ought to be interesting.”

***

At sunrise, the tavern slept, the evening’s dinner conversation lost to dreams of happier times and homes so far away. Cordelia allowed everyone to spend the night in the tavern, the boys in the main dining room and the girls in the card room. It was very much against her better judgment, but by the time that party had ended, quite a few of them had been properly plowed and she didn’t want to send them home alone. The gods only knew what was lurking in Jhelbor now. It was quite unpredictable and, as Cherry had often insisted, the tree babies had to stick together. No matter how annoying some of them were.

Barney was the first up that day and had to piss like a racehorse. He was not accustomed to waking up in a room with so many dudes, but somehow, he managed to make it out of the tavern and into the privy without waking up anyone. Last night had been an utter disappointment because he had hoped to get with one of Cordelia’s cute bar girls, but the woman had mama bear complex about them.

He was just returning to the main room to get a little more sleep when he heard a sudden cry of alarm from within, followed by a padded pounding. What was going on in there? Whatever it was, it couldn’t really be cool. Quickly, he rushed in to see all the men stirring from their sleep, looking groggy. There was Ianto, standing over his own makeshift mattress, beating the sheets with a fireplace poker.

“What?” Barney cried. “What is it? Bro, making a scene is not awesome before two in the afternoon.”

“This!” Ianto cried, his normally unflappable expression replaced with a wild look of panic. He lifted the poker. Dangling across the cold, iron surface was a limp green snake.

Barney involuntarily took a step back. His eyes traveled from the snake to the doorway leading to the card room. Cherry was standing there, watching the scene with a placid detachment. “You put a dead snake in his bed?” Barney asked incredulously.

“It wasn’t dead until I killed it!” Ianto growled.

“Very clever!” Barney snapped. “It must have taken you hours to come up with that one.”

“You’re blaming me?” Cherry asked innocently. “Rowan is crawling with snakes.”

“Excuse me,” Ianto said stiffly. “I have to go put a snake in the grass.” He stormed past Barney, marching out of the tavern and into the street.

Cherry strolled over to Barney, the leather of her pants creaking with each step. “Getting a little nervous, aren’t you, Barney?” she asked breezily.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Barney told her.

“Flatter myself?” she repeated calmly.

“Ianto was easy!”

She shrugged. “Well, yes.”

“Easy to prank!” Barney declared. “I’m not.” As Cherry leaned her head out of the open door to watch Ianto, Barney could not help but turn out the pockets of his jacket and his pants, checking carefully to make sure she hadn’t snuck something small and furry into them. He was much relieved to find himself clean and prank free.

“Looks like Ianto woke up the natives,” Cherry murmured him casually.

“Maybe you can entertain them with your petty pranks. They’re desperate for entertainment, I’m sure they’ll find anything funny, even your stupid and unimaginative pranks.”

“Uh huh…” Cherry mumbled.

There was a soft clip clop from the hallway. Barney turned around just in time to see Cho come skipping into the doorway. “Morning!” she called brightly.

“Good morning, Cho,” Cherry said.

“Morning, Cho,” the other men in the room chorused.

She tilted her head to one side. “What are you by the door?” she asked Barney and Cherry.

“Catching the morning performance,” Barney replied. “It was pathetic.”

“Oh.” She paused a moment, her nose wrinkled. “What happened?”

“Snake in the bed.”

Cho laughed. “I’ll bet he didn’t see that one coming.”

“It wasn’t that clever,” Barney retorted.

She shrugged, clapping her hands and turning to address everyone. “Well, Cordelia says you can all wash up in the kitchen.”

“Great,” Bret declared, dragging himself up to his feet.

“Thank Cordy for us,” Cris added.

Hood merely nodded.

“Okay!” Cho said cheerfully. With that, she pulled out of the doorway and went skipping away, her feet accompanied by a soft clip clop on the floor.

Hood, Cris, and Bret all paraded into the kitchen. Cherry gestured grandly to Barney. “Come on, time to wash up.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Barney clucked. “You first. I want you where I can see you.”

Cherry laughed. “Jumpy today.”

Ianto returned, brandishing his now vacant poker. “Barney,” he said, “kindly get out of my way.” He paused, glancing at Cherry. “I’m not too happy with you either.”

“You can put that poker to better use later,” Cherry said, stepping past Barney and out into the kitchen.

“I hope,” Ianto called after her, “that there comes a time in your life when you’re in desperate straits and in need of a worldly, influential friend. And I hope you turn to me so I can laugh in your face.” He seemed to be smiling a bit as he said it, his handsome features a bit tight as he tried to restrain himself.

“You next,” Barney said to Ianto. “I want to keep a buffer between me and her.”

Ianto rolled his eyes, setting down the poker. “It brightens my heart, knowing that I’m useful to you, Barney.” He walked out of the room, following Cherry.

Barney waited a few seconds, slowly counting. When he was satisfied that there was enough distance between him and the mad prankster, he followed, closing the door behind him. By this point, he had regained enough cool to keep his head high and take the steps with relative ease. Hood, Cris, Cherry, and Ianto were standing around the food preparation table, picking at last night’s leftovers.

“Great nutbunnies!” a voice cried from somewhere else in the kitchen, “I think I’m gonna die!”

Everyone in the room turned to look at the source of the voice, which seemed to becoming from the sinks. At once, Barney recognized it as Bret. Despite his increasing queasiness, he rushed forward to the sink, the others following after him. Bret was leaning over the edge, his face all scrunched up, but they immediately knew the good musician was not, in fact, going to die.

“Are you all right?” Barney cried. “What happened?”

“You look as green as a frog,” Ianto drawled, leaning against the doorframe.

Bret was leaning over a sink in the clinic, spitting continually into the basin. He did, in fact, look a bit green, though Ianto’s exaggeration merely earned him a dirty look. What was truly interesting was the fact that Bret seemed to be spitting up soap bubbles. He was foaming at the mouth, suds dribbling down his chin and onto his earthy brown tunic.

“What happened?” Hood barked.

“I don’t know,” Bret coughed, a soap bubble flying up from his mouth, swirling in colors of green and pink before it burst in a small shower of water. “I was performing my morning ritual. I like to brush my teeth before going out. There’s nothing worse than singing with fuzzy teeth. I was polishing my pearlies, but the toothpaste tasted really bad. Soapy-like.”

Ianto strolled closer, picking up the small container of toothpaste resting by Bret’s shoulder. He sniffed it lightly, then wordlessly handed it over to Hood. Hood looked into the tube, took a whiff, and turned on Cherry. “I see,” he said.

“Then I started coughing!” Bret continued. “And bubbles came out of my nose!”

“Uh huh,” Ianto mumbled. “Someone put shaving cream in the toothpaste.” He and Barney exchanged a look, and then they too turned to look at Cherry.

By this point, Bret had managed to get rid of most of the froth coming from his mouth. He dried his face on a towel and folded his hands behind his back, walking over to Cherry who stood there, a very picture of innocence. “Well, Reyer,” he said slowly, “Looks like I’ve just been initiated into the ‘gotcha’ club.”

“Oh, no, Bret, I’m not that clever,” Cherry replied. “Certainly not like Marshall.”

Barney rolled his eyes. “This is ridiculous. Aren’t you getting just a little carried away here?”

“Actually,” Bret sighed, “it wasn’t that bad. Far be it for me to be a spoil sport. I got gotten.” He shrugged. “And now that I’ve been had, I can sit back and enjoy watching the next sucker squirm.”

Ianto laughed. “Actually, now that I think about it, I can too.” His smile brightened considerably as his dark eyes turned toward Barney.

“Oh yeah?” Barney asked, raising his hands. “Well, if you’re counting on me for a chuckle, you’re going to be very disappointed.”

“Why’s that?” Bret wondered.

“I cannot be gotten!” Barney declared.

“Oh, I know,” Cherry said softly. “I know.”

“Well, just keep knowing it,” he told her.

“And I’m on my way out,” Ianto declared. “Best to keep out of the line of seltzer fire.” With that, he strolled away.

Bret shook his head. “Sabotaging the toothpaste,” he mumbled. “You’re a clever one, Reyer. I’d had to see what you would do to someone you’re really gunning for.”

Cherry smiled sweetly at Barney. “Me too,” she said.

***

Several hours later, the tavern was getting ready to open for lunch. Of course, there were other places to eat in Jhelbor, but none of the tree babies wanted to pass up the opportunity for Cho’s cooking. Barney, who was there already, discussing finances with Cordelia, heard them coming and immediately felt his shoulders tense up. Cherry was back in the tavern. The game was clearly on again. He leaned over the report he was finishing, jabbing the paper with a final period. He could simply slip it into Cordelia’s inbox (that’s what she said) and retreat to the safety of his own apartment.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and nearly jumped out of his skin. “Gah!” he cried, turning around to find Cherry standing behind him. She was glistening with sweat, her damp brown hair pulled back with a leather thong.

“Take it easy, Barney,” she told him serenely.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

She gestured vaguely to the pile of blank report forms. “I need to invoice Cordelia for the shampoo,” she explained.

“Oh…” Barney mumbled.

“Are you done with your report there?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

Cherry took his report from him, walking over to Cordelia’s box and dropping it in with the other waiting papers. “I got it.”

“Thanks,” Barney said, standing up.

“You can just go back to your room now.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll…” Barney narrowed his eyes, looking at her. “Why do you want me to go to my room?”

“What?”

“You said my room. Specifically. Why do you want me to go to my room?”

“I don’t want you to go to your room,” she said. “I don’t care where you go.”

Already, images of buckets of water propped over the door greeted Barney’s imagination. She had set something up for him, but he certainly wouldn’t fall into a trap so easily. “You so pointedly told me to go to my room.”

“It’s just a figure of speech,” she said, shrugging.

“No, no, no, a figure of speech would be ‘don’t put all your eggs into one basket’ or ‘shoot the moon.’”

“Or drop dead?” she supplied.

“Something like that,” Barney said tensely. “Forget it. It’s not going to work. I’m not going back to my room. I’m going to stay here and do some paperwork.”

Cherry’ lips quirked upward. “Fine, do some paperwork,” she said, fully aware of the fact that after his report, Barney had no paperwork that needed doing. Cordelia wouldn’t let him.

“Why did you say that?” he asked suddenly.

“Boy, are you edgy today,” Cherry said, strolling over to the desk. “You ought to see a doctor.”

“Oh, I’d love to,” he drawled.

Cherry laughed softly, sitting on the edge of the desk and picking up a pencil. She began to sharpen it with a daggers when the door suddenly flew open with impressive force. Cordelia stormed into the office, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, a length of silky blue fabric draped over her shoulder. It seemed she had dressed in a hurry because her pink skirt decidedly did not match her indigo blouse, hanging lopsidedly across her frame. “Good morning, Cordy,” Barney said.

“Buzz off!” she cried, pushing him out of the way and making a line directly for Cherry on the desk. “You…you…” She shook a trembling finger at her, but her words failed.

“Good morning to you too, Cordy,” Cherry said. “How the heck are you?”

“You louse!”

“Oh, don’t say that.”

Barney scowled. “What’s the matter? What did she do now?”

Cordelia held up the blue fabric which revealed itself to be a bathrobe. “I put this on,” she said, shoving her arms into the armholes, “after I had taken morning swim. Needless to say, I wasn’t wearing my wet swimsuit at the time. I only took a few steps out of the water and into the city center when suddenly things got chilly. Here’s why!” She spun around angrily and at once, Barney understood. The back of the robe had been cut, an enormous circle of fabric missing right over where Cordelia’s naked bottom could be revealed without a wet swimsuit.

“You look like you could use a bun warmer,” Cherry teased.

“Shut up!” Cordelia snapped, her nostrils flaring. “I turned and ran back into the water but not before hearing a chorus of whistling, catcalls, and one marriage proposal!”

Barney turned on Cherry. “You don’t have a shred of decency.”

Cherry held up her hands. “Don’t look at me, I didn’t do it. However,” she stood up and walked around the desk. “By the merest coincidence, I happened to notice this in here.” She opened the top drawer and pulled out a swatch of fabric, matching the blue of Cordelia’s robe.

“You lowlife!” Cordelia hissed, snatching the fabric away. With an indignant sniff, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Barney stared at Cherry, shaking his head. “Oh, stop that,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We’ve both seen Cordy’s bum. It’s nice.”

***

Depending on the supply line, lunches could be as elaborate as fresh bread with hunks of cheese and sweet jams or they could be as meager as a thin stew with small chunks of canned vegetables swirling in the broth. Generally, it was the latter.

Unhappily, as Barney walked into the kitchen, he was met with two unpleasant sights. The first was a pile of empty silver cans carefully lining the basin of the sink. Another day of canned vegetables and tasteless soup. Supply lines must have been cut again. The second sight, however, was even more disheartening. There was Cherry, sitting at the table, sipping soup from a cup and chatting with Cris and Bret.

Avoiding eye contact as much as possible, Barney made his way over to the cooking area where Cho was stirring the soup over a flame. “What’s on today?” he asked, picking up a tin bowl from the counter.

“You have your choice,” Cho explained, “Of canned vegetable soup,” she gestured to her pot, “or what is supposed to be creamed corn,” she pointed to the cauldron.

Barney glanced down into the murky depths of the cauldron. “How is the soup?” he asked.

“Actually,” Cho said, “it’s pretty good today, considering the fact that it’s largely from eighteen year old cans.”

“And the corn?”

“It’s probably very good for varnishing all your wood.”

“I’ll take the soup,” Barney said, holding out a bowl.

“Good choice,” Cho said, stirring the pot.

As he waited, Barney glanced over at the table where Bret was deeply rooted in a discussion, explaining the concept of texting to Cris. Cherry looked up at him, lifting her soup to toast him. “Oh, no, no, no,” Barney mumbled. He pulled his bowl away just as Cho was about to ladle the soup into it. With a splat, the soup hit the floor.

“Barney!” Cho cried.

“No, no, no!” he shouted. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Falling for what?”

“Tell me the soup is good so I eat it and my tongue turns blue?”

“What are you talking about?” Cho snapped.

He gestured to the cauldron. “Give me the corn.”

“The corn?”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s revolting!”

“I want the corn,” Barney insisted.

“All right! All right!” Cho resigned herself, dipping the ladle into the corn.

Again, Barney turned to look at Cherry. She smiled at him. “You know what?” Barney said, pulling his bowl back again as a spoonful of creamed corn hit the floor. “Forget about it. I’m not hungry.” He dropped the bowl with a clatter back on the counter and stormed away from Cho, watching him indignantly as she tried to scrape the splashed food off of her shoes.

Grabbing a slice of stale bread from the cupboard, Barney sat down at the table, munching unhappily on the grainy crust. He heard the door open behind him and nearly leapt out of his skin. He turned around to find Hood walk into the kitchen. “You don’t look well, Barney,” Cherry said to him.

“Aren’t ya gonna eat?” Cris asked.

“I’m not hungry,” he grumbled.

“You really should have more than a hunk of bread,” Bret muttered.

“I'm sorry, can you repeat that? I don't speak ‘I never get laid,’” Barney insisted.

Bret gave him a funny look. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Hood said, joining them with a steaming hot bowl of soup in his hands.

“Hey Hood,” Cris murmured.

“Hood,” Bret said, shaking off Barney’s poor attempt at a witticism, “maybe you can clear something up for us?”

“What is it?” Hood asked.

“Cris and I were talking about texting. Which do you recommend? Spelling out all the words, or using abbreviations?”

“Abbreviations,” Hood replied. “It’s more time effective.”

“Ha!” Cris cried. “I was right.”

“Well, you’re the expert,” Bret admitted, grudgingly. “At everything.”

“Of course,” Hood added, taking a sip of his soup. “You could argue that using the abbreviations is taking a severe toll on…”

A moment of silence hung in the air. “On?” Bret prompted him.

“On what?” Cris said.

But Hood wasn’t about to answer. His face had turned bright pink, his mouth hanging open slightly. He moved his lips, as if to try and speak, but only a slight wheeze came out. “Hood?” Barney called carefully.

“What’s wrong with him?” Cris wondered.

At once, the coughing came. Hood began to convulse where he sat, his shoulders heaving up and down, his cheeks changing from pink to red. “Hot!” he shouted. “Hot!!!”

“The soup is hot?” Barney asked blankly.

“No,” Cho said, joining the conversation. “I took it off the flames half an hour ago.”

Hood had his tongue stuck out now. He was fanning it with both hands, his eyes watering. “Cho?” he whispered hoarsely, “did you put peppers in it?”

She blinked in surprise. “No.”

At once, all eyes at the table turned to Cherry. “Well,” Barney barked, “I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”

Cherry sipped her soup absently. “Why do you say that?”

“You just poisoned our genius!”

“If that were true, I’m sure he’d be able to whip up an antidote.”

Cris put a hand on Hood’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Hood swallowed, nodding vaguely. “Yeah I’m…I’m all right.”

“You see?” Cherry sneered. “He’s all right.”

“You’re getting seriously out of hand, Cherry,” Barney scolded her, standing up and discarding his bread. He moved to the door, careful never to turn his back on her. “You need to stop it. This is getting out of control. Someone could be seriously hurt here.”

“Nervous?” she asked.

“Just…just stay away from me!” And Barney ran from the kitchen.

***

The day wore on tediously. Of course, Barney would not return to his room. Certainly not. Not when there was some stupid practical joke about to be triggered the moment he set foot over the threshold. The kitchen was off limits too. Although Barney’s stomach grumbled and ached with hunger, it wasn’t safe to eat anything. Still, there was safety in numbers. Barney decided his best chance was to remain in an open area, so he decided to sit at a table in the card room. The rest of the tree babies went about their business, the cooking staff cutting and peeling, the serving team memorizing the specials, the housekeeping staff cleaning and dusting. Barney sat in the midst of this activity, like a statue adorning the room.

As the sun was beginning to set in the sky, Barney allowed himself to feel a touch safer. The day was almost over, meaning that soon, this would all be a thing of the past and he would reap the reward of his vigilance. It was at this moment, however, when a knock came at the door. No one else happened to be around, so Barney pulled himself slowly off the chair and trudged up the three steps to the door. He pulled the handle to the peephole and opened it. On the other side of the doorway, he was surprised to see a red-headed girl. It was Ginny. The jailbait Barney had shared his dungeon cell with, a few months back.

She leaned closer to the door, quirking an eyebrow. “You gonna let me in or what?”

Smiling brightly, feeling free of danger, Barney undid the latch and pulled the door open. “Hello, little girl!” he cried happily.

Ginny’s nostrils flared. “Little girl?”

Barney was just so happy that she was harmless that he continued on, closing the door behind her. “How are you?” he asked.

“The same as ever,” she replied. “I’m not a little girl.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Okay,” she said with a shrug. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh, I’m –”

“Ginny!” Both Barney and Ginny turned around to find Cherry coming in from the kitchen.

“Hey, Cherry!” Ginny called.

Cherry crossed the room. “I was wondering when you’d get here.” She clasped Ginny’s wrist, shaking it briskly.

Ginny shook Cherry’ wrist. “Well, I would have been here sooner, but around midday I had to take a detour when I realized that the road was kind of nonexistent.”

“Glad you could make it,” Cherry told her.

“Yeah, you and me both,” Ginny smirked.

“Wait…” Barney said slowly.

“What?” Ginny asked.

“You know her?” he asked Ginny.

“Yeah.”

He glanced at Cherry. “You knew she was coming?”

“Of course I did,” she said.

“Ahh…” Barney droned slowly, wagging his finger at the two of them.

Ginny blinked. “What?”

“Ah! I’m on to you!” he crowed.

She turned to look at Cherry. “What’s he talking about?”

Cherry shrugged. “Beats me.”

“You’re a part of this!” Barney shouted.

“A part of what?” Ginny wondered.

But Barney was too clever to fall for that trick. “Very well played, Miss Reyer,” he said. “A touch of brilliance, getting her to show up today.”

“What’s today?” Ginny asked.

“A little bit too convenient, isn’t it?”

“Cherry, what’s he talking about?”

Barney backed away from them slowly. The nearest room was the kitchen, but he figured he’d be safe there, provided he didn’t try to eat anything. “Well played, Cherry.” And as Ginny and Cherry exchanged two very convincing looks of confusion, Barney backed into the kitchen and closed the door behind him.

A crash sounded nearly making Barney wet himself in surprise. He whirled around and allowed himself to breathe easy when he saw that the kitchen was deserted except for Cris who was sitting on a counter, swinging his legs. The crash had merely been his own foot colliding with a copper pot on the floor.

“Hi,” Cris called.

“Hi,” Barney sighed. Barney glanced down and realized that the entire floor of the kitchen surrounding the door was littered with metal pots, pans, and spoons. “What’s this mess about?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s a warning,” Cris explained. “So no one can sneak up on me.”

“Cherry?”

“Yup. There’s no way she’ll be able to get me. I ain’t gonna be caught off guard.”

“Nice move,” Barney muttered, picking his way over the pots and pans to him.

“Thanks!” he grinned. “How are you holding up?”

“Immune,” Barney answered.

“Me too! There’s no way she’s going to get me. I survived way worse than this. Like being alone in a room with Cassie. I think I can manage a prankster.”

“Yeah, the two of us will manage to hold out,” Barney told him.

“Just gotta watch your back for a little bit longer,” Cris said. “The day’s almost over.”

“Well, the sun’s almost down,” he said, “but the day lasts until sunrise, doesn’t it? That’s when this little whoopee cushion fest started.”

“I guess so. Just stay strong.”

“You too,” Barney called. With that, he made his way to the side exit from the kitchen and slipped into the bar. His hands were shaking horribly now. The bar seemed to be deserted. He strained his ears, trying to hear if Ginny and Cherry were still around, but he couldn’t hear anyone talking. They were probably waiting for him to go to his room. That’s where the final joke would be. Or maybe the office. Cherry had been keen on him sticking around to do paperwork, even though everyone knew he didn’t have any.

A sudden explosion rocked Barney out of his paranoid thoughts. Instantly, the smell of smoke came drifting in from the kitchen. At once, he charged back into the kitchen. He found Cris standing in front of a cupboard. Black smoke was pouring out of it. His face was covered in soot, all except for the skin around his eyes which he had just rubbed clean. “What happened? What happened?” Barney cried.

Cris spat a little smoke from his mouth. “I don’t know. I opened the cupboard to get the salt and there was a big boom!”

“Cherry…”

“Must have been.”

“This is insane! She’s gone too far!”

Cris nodded for a moment. Then, it was as if he were suddenly seeing Barney for the first time. His pale eyes widened to saucers and he pulled away from him. “You’re the only one left. That means you’re the grand finale!”

“She’s not gonna get me,” Barney insisted.

“Oooh, oh, oh, you’re a ticking time bomb!” He held out her palms, as if warding him away. “Get away, get away. Anyone who’s near you could be caught in the aftershock!”

“But!”

“Go! Go quickly!”

Barney had no choice. He stumbled back as Cris warded him off, tripping over the pots and pans, making an enormous cacophony and just barely managing to keep his balance. He stumbled out of the room and to his utter surprise, Cris slammed the door shut in his face.

He turned to face the empty bar. The sun had set now. Everything was silent, everyone probably retiring to their rooms for the night. Huh. Weird. Barney couldn’t possibly return to his room, but then again, Cherry probably knew that. She had probably arranged it so that some misfortune would befall him in another room. The question was, where did she expect him to go?

Normally, he might spend the night in some random demon bimbo’s room, but he was certain Cherry would have predicted that ahead of time. The next logical choice, one Cherry would also suspect, would be to go to Gob’s room. They were bros now. Where was the most illogical place to go? He supposed spending the night in the damp, dank basement dungeons under the city. But wouldn’t Cherry have figured on him trying to outsmart her by picking someplace illogical? No, there was no doubt that the dungeon was booby trapped as well.

Cautiously, Barney grabbed hold of a cushion from one of the bar stools. He held his breath for a moment, wondering if something would explode, but nothing did. After finally releasing his breath, he slung the cushion over his shoulder and slowly made his way out the front door. It was there, on the front doorway to the Frolocking Stoat, in the freezing cold of the chilly autumn night, that Barney made his bed.

He looked up to the heavens. “God, it's me, Barney. What up? I know we don't talk much, but I know a lot of girls call out your name because of me. Awesome. Anyway, if you could just be a bro and keep Cherry away from me while I’m sleeping, that would be fantastic.”

But sleep would not come to him. He spent the night wide awake, tossing and turning, wondering just when Cherry would finally manage to get him.

***

The next morning, Cordelia’s entourage loitered in the kitchen. Cris and Cordelia stood by the wall, figuring out the drink order for the week. Hood and Bret were at the table, eating toast and listening to Ianto go on about aliens, Hood in fascination, Bret with a funny, skeptical lift of his lip. Cherry sat at the other end of the table, listening as Cho recited the day’s specials to JY and Cassandra. As they went about their business, the door to the kitchen was flung open.

“Barney?” Cris asked quizzically.

The man who walked in barely resembled Barney. He was completely haggard, his neck tilting to one side after a crampy night on a cushion. His unkempt hair was tangled and knotted. Heavy purple bags hung under his eyes. And the suit? Well, forget about that! Perhaps the most distressing part of his visage, however, was the slightly mad smile on his face. “Good morning, everybody,” he sneered, his voice hoarse.

“Good morning, Barney,” Hood said.

“Morning,” Ianot called pleasantly.

Everyone else muttered their greetings. “May I join you?” Barney grumbled, “or is this table only reserved for Cherry and her victims?”

“Nope,” Bret said. “Anyone can sit here.”

“Please,” Hood added, gesturing to an empty stool.

Barney took a seat. “Always a good sport, Hood. That’s nice.”

Ianto glanced down the table at Barney. “I haven’t seen you in a day. Why do you look a year older?”

“When was the last time you slept?” Cordelia asked, looking over.

Cris nodded gravely. “Or ate?”

Grinning, Barney picked up a slice of toasted bread from Bret’s plate. “That’s why I thought I’d stop by,” he said, taking an enormous bite out of the toast. “Time for a satisfying breakfast of gloating. Then I shall retire to the safety of my bed and sleep the sleep of the victorious.”

Everyone glanced at him with mild smiles. “Uh huh,” Cordelia mumbled.

Barney stood up, strutting as best as his tired frame would permit. “My, my,” he said, wandering over to Cherry. “Quiet today, Miss Close-but-no-cigar.” He pushed Ianto clean off his stool and took it, sitting beside Cherry. “Seems like only yesterday you were gloating about how someone could get each and every one of us with a practical joke from your worn out bag of tricks.” He shrugged, shoveling some of Cherry’s eggs into his mouth. “I guess the bag just wasn’t big enough, huh?” He gave her a smile. “Nice try.”

“Hmmm?” Bret asked.

“She got all of you losers, but she didn’t get me.”

Ianto rose to his feet, brushing the dust off of his trousers. “Well,” he mumbled. “Now, I wouldn’t say that.”

Barney glanced over his shoulder. “What are you talking about, Ianto? She got you.” He gestured around the table. “She got you, she got you, you, and you. She got everybody. I saw it.”

“Oh really?” Ianto muttered, putting a hand on Barney’s shoulder. “Did you really actually see the live snake in my bed?”

“Yes, on the end of your poker.”

“No,” Ianto chuckled. “No, no, that was dead. And not actually in my bed.”

“Did you taste my toothpaste?” Bret asked.

“No,” Barney admitted.

“Did you see my cupboard go kablam?” Cris chirped.

Hood leaned forward toward Barney. “Or try my lunch?”

Cordelia quirked an eyebrow. “Or see my tush?”

Barney was silent for a moment. He looked around the table and noticed that everyone was looking at him. Everyone except Cherry. “You mean…she didn’t get any of you either?” He gestured vaguely with his victory toast. Suddenly, it tasted like sandpaper.

All of them shook their heads, barely containing smiles. “Truth be known, Barney,” Cherry said softly. “The only one that got got was you.”

And then they started laughing. Barney felt the heat rise in his cheeks. “Me? You got me?”

“Well, not all by herself,” Cordelia pointed out.

Hood nodded. “Cherry’s scheme was so brilliant, it was an honor just to be in on it.”

“It was fascinating watching you turn into a giant mess, not knowing when he was going to strike,” Ianto said.

They dissolved into laughter, heating Barney’s ire. He jumped to his feet. “Wait a second! What about all that other stuff? What about the good soup or Ginny suddenly showing up?”

“Well,” Cherry said, “those were all real. Ordinary events happening to ordinary people who didn’t realize that yesterday was not an ordinary day. At least for a man who’s imagination was running wild.”

“You owe Ginny an explanation, by the way,” Cordelia said, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes. “She thinks you’re out of your mind.”

“There you have it, Barney,” Ianto said, reclaiming his seat.

“The best joke of all was the one that never came,” Bret chuckled.

With that, they all began to applaud him. “Okay, okay, I’ve been had,” Barney said, holding up a hand. “Fine. I tossed down the gauntlet,” he said to Cherry, “and you beat me up with it. Fine. You had your fun and now it’s over.”

He whirled around, heading out for the door. At the very least, now he could get a decent amount of sleep. Behind him, however, came an uproar. “I believe you have some table hopping to do,” Cherry shouted, accompanied by a few wolf whistles. Barney turned around. The entire tavern staff and everyone else who had joined them stood expectantly around the table. All the plates and cups were cleared off and Cordelia was patting it with her palm.

Setting his jaw, Barney stepped up onto the table, feeling their eyes on him. “When the course is laid and the anchor’s weighed, a sailor’s blood begins racing,” he sang softly.

“I can’t hear you!” Cherry shouted.

Barney sang louder, purposely going off key. “With our hearts unbound and our flag unfurled we’re on our way and off to see the world!” Everyone cheered.

“I can hear you,” Cherry called triumphantly. “But I can’t see you!”

“Take it off, Barney!” Cris cried with an unabashed grin. “I want to see some skin!”

Angrily, Barney unbuckled his belt. “Underway and off to see the world!” he shouted, pulling it out of the belt loops. “Hey, ho, we’ll go anywhere the wind is blowing. Manly men are we!” As he hit the high note, he pulled down his pants. “Sailing for adventure on the deep blue sea.” He ground his bottom, wagging his arms back and forth to the delight of the onlookers.

The kitchen door opened. Demyx, Lottie, and Ginny came in. The moment Ginny saw Barney on the table, singing his heart out, bottomless, Barney could tell from the look on her face that it would take a long time to convince her he was quite sane. As he wailed out the rest of the song, he thought of his bed. Being humiliated could really take it out of you. Then again, that’s what he got for casting aspersions. There were no hard feelings. He had met his match. He couldn’t wait to get Cherry back for this one.