Family Drama

"Pass the popcorn."

Michael tore his eyes from the television — with more reluctance than one would expect, considering what he was watching — and glanced over at his new roommate. "You can get up and make your own."

"I don't want to miss any of this drama. Vlad's baby taking his first steps opens up a whole new world of possibilities."

Michael narrowed his eyes but eventually caved in. He passed the bowl of popcorn over to the bundle of wires that made up a grasping hand, then stood up and walked into his apartment's kitchen to make some more. Ennard always ended up eating the entire bowl, so he might as well get started on a new one.

The kitchen was cramped and dark. Michael slapped the bag of popcorn into the microwave and slammed the door harder than he needed in order to vent some frustration. As it cooked he busied himself with a quick round of cleaning. Ennard never picked up any trash or paid heed to knocking things over or returning them to their proper place, so it had already become habit for Michael to declutter.

The feeling of something tugging on his pants leg brought Michael's attention downwards. A small metal figure, similar to Ennard but missing the mask and with a comparatively larger head, was pulling on him. When it noticed Michael looking down it spoke with Ennard's voice. "Hey dude, can I put some of the exotic butter on my popcorn? It'd really kick up the flavor."

Michael kicked the mini-Ennard off of him, snatched his now-finished popcorn out of the microwave, and rushed back to the living room. Ennard was lounging, taking up the entire sofa and spilling onto the floor. Michael marched past and gave Ennard a quick slap to the back of the head.

"Hey," Ennard whined. "You spilled some of my popcorn! Not cool, man."

Michael ignored the robot with an ease born from practice. Ennard huffed and then continued eating popcorn, very quickly becoming absorbed once more into the program. Meanwhile, the mini-Ennard had entered the room and began the process of eating the spilled food.

The duo watched with wide eyes and baited breathes as Vlad and Clara fought over who misplaced the blood cookies. When at last the episode ended — It turned out their son had transformed into a bat, flew up to the counter, and absconded with the treats — both Michael and Ennard settled back into their seats satisfied. The mini-Ennard finished their floor-popcorn and hopped onto the sofa with a little huff of effort. Ennard cooed and allowed them to crawl back inside of the mess of wires that made up her body.

Michael cleared his throat. "So, you've been living here for a while and it's about time we made some changes. Specifically, you need to start cleaning up after yourself."

Ennard balked. "C'mon bro, don't be that way. I already hold down the fort while you're off investigating Billy." The animatronic amalgamation gestured to the wall behind her, where blurry photos and newspaper clipping were pinned to the wall and connected at random with bits of yarn. "It's a tough job, man."

"Sitting on your many asses and watching television all day isn't a "tough job". I can't keep picking up after you."

Ennard crossed their arms and sulked. Then she brought out another pair of arms and crossed them, just so she could sulk harder. "Alright, I guess."



The next day, Michael returned home after a long day of work. "A dozen leads and a dozen failures," he called out while removing his coat in the front hall. "Honestly, I have no clue how Father's managed to disappear in a small town of five thousand but-" Michael stopped in his tracks upon entering the living room.

The entire place was spotless. Even the stains that had been in the carpet longer than Michael had been living there —and likely longer than he had been living period, he sometimes thought privately to himself — were washed clean. Ennard poked her head around the corner leading to the kitchen. She was wearing a handkerchief on her head and an apron around her torso. "Welcome home, yo. Watch your step, some of the carpet's still damp."

Michael's jaw dropped. "Wow. I, uhh, wasn't expecting you to get to work so fast... or so well."

A snort came from the kitchen, followed by the sound of running water. Mike peeked in and saw Ennard washing a few plates. Bon Bon's endoskeleton had detached from the main body and was taking part in it as well, scrubbing a plate larger than it was and giggling.

"I've been working all day, you know," Ennard said. "Organized the stuff in the cabinets, dusted all the corners. Heck, I even put on a disguise and went downstairs to do some laundry and take out the trash."

"You wore a disguise?"

Ennard nodded. "Yeah, you'd be surprised how well a pair of Groucho Marx glasses work at fooling people." Ennard softly hummed a tune that Michael faintly recognized as the song Ballora used to play and swayed her hips from side to side. "Oh yeah, and I threw away those magazines you had hidden under your mattress."

"What!" Michael went pale.

"That stuff'll rot your brain and turn you blind, Michael," Ennard chided. "Plus, there was some weird stuff in there. Can't be healthy.

Michael's face felt like it was burning. He scrambled for a new direction to steer the conversation. "Look, you didn't have to do all this. I only meant for you to stop making messes."

A Bidybab and a Minireena crawled from Ennard's arms and continued to wash plates while Ennard herself walked over to Michael. "Listen. I knew I was being a bit of a pain in the ass so I felt like doing a little bit extra. Don't expect this to be an every day thing."

Michael scratched his cheek and diverted his eyes. "I'm, uhh..." Ennard leaned in expectantly while Michael struggled to get the words out. "I'm sorry for being so harsh."

Ennard sprung forward and hugged a startled Michael. "And I'm sorry for not being a good sister."

Michael closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment. A part of him never wanted it to end. "Nah,"  he said, a little bit choked up. "You're the best sister." For the first time in a while, everything felt right with the world.

"And to think," Ennard murmured, "The original plan was to hollow you out like a pumpkin and wear you around town."

"WHAT!"