Play Time's Over

Play Time's Over


“Lance?” Toad asked tentatively.

“What, Toad?”  Lance answered from the thing the Brotherhood called a couch.

“Can you help me with something?”

“Depends. It doesn't involve looking under your bed again, does it?”

The last time Lance had looked under Toad's bed, he had been looking for a bar of soap for Toad's monthly bath. Lance had quickly decided that if the soap had found its way under there, it hadn't survived very long. No, it did not matter that the soap was not a living thing, and therefore could not technically die. It had not survived.

“No, it involves something else.” Toad said, scuffing his toe on the floor.

Lance thought for a minute. He was incredibly bored right now. He had read this magazine at least ten times before, and counting the dead flies in the corner could only keep one occupied for so long.

“Yeah, okay.” He said with a shrug. Well, as much as one could shrug while lying on their back.

“Cool.” Toad answered. “This way, yo.” He said as he hopped down the hall.

Lance followed, wondering if what Toad had in mind would put a dent in his boredom for  at least a few minutes. Maybe it was a plan to get a prank in on the X-geeks. Nope, Toad was going for the back door, and to do anything to the X's would require the use of his Jeep, which was in the front.

It then occurred to Lance that he still had no idea what the heck Toad had wanted him for.

“Hey, Toad,” Lance said as Toad was opening the back door.

“Yeah?” Toad responded.

“What exactly did you want me for?”

“Well... it... I mean...” Toad stuttered. “I'll show you, okay?”

Lance walked a ways into the yard, and when Toad stopped and said “This is it, yo,” he was at a loss for words.

It... was a squirrel. A dead squirrel. Lance was confused. Surely they weren't so strapped for food that they had to resort to roasting backyard wildlife. Not yet, anyway.

“Toad... this is a squirrel.” Lance stated, unsure if this is what he had wanted help with.

“Yeah.” Toad replied nonchalantly.

“A dead squirrel.” Lance said, still unsure of what Toad was getting at.

This time Toad's reply was more on the sad side.

“Yeah.”

“Why are we looking at a dead squirrel?”

“Well, thing is, this is, you know, the first squirrel that I saw when I came here. I know because there's a white spot on the tail.”

Lance looked a little closer. Sure enough, there was a white spot on the squirrel's tail.

“Okay, yeah, go on.” Lance said, his interest decidedly perked.

“Well, I came out here a lot at first, and I would always see this little guy running around, and one day I brought some peanuts, and he just zipped right up and took one. From then on he was sort of an unofficial pet. I even let him in my room once.”

Lance turned to look at Toad at that. A couple of months ago, Toad had just started hopping around his room like he was possessed, and when the other boys asked him about it, he had denied anything had been going on. He wondered if the two incidents were connected. His wondering was soon cut off, as Toad had started up his narrative again.

“Well, today I came out here, and I just found him like this. I was hoping you could help me... you know... bury him.”

Although Lance was not known for being sympathetic toward other people, it would have been rather difficult for him to say no to Toad at this point. He sighed.

“We're going to need a shoe box.” He stated resolutely.

*One and a half hours later*

“What does it take to find a shoe box around here?!” Lance said, thoroughly annoyed.

The two boys had been looking hard for an appropriate box, but so far their search had had no success. Somehow they had finished their search in the kitchen, where Toad had suggested that they use a cereal box, but Lance had pointed out that it still had cereal in it.

“I don't know, yo. None of us have had a new pair of shoes in ages.” Toad replied, somewhat discouraged.

It was true. Lately Lance had resorted to using duct tape to keep his shoes from coming apart at the seams, and even that was starting to wear down.

The boys sat in silence for a time, attempting to think of a solution.

“Maybe we could bury him without a box...?” Lance suggested.

The look on Toad's face quickly put an end to that suggestion.

“Okay, fine! We'll find a box!” Lance hastily repented, hands in front of his body.

Lance sighed as he mentally took stock of the house, searching for something that could be used for a rodent coffin. About halfway down the list he remembered that Freddy had gotten a cold about two weeks ago. Man, had that been ugly. But Lance was pretty sure they still had some of the tissues left over, and they had stowed the box in one of the closets.

“What about a tissue box?” Lance posed to Toad.

Toad looked up from his own musings, considering this new option.

“I guess that would work, as long as we take off the plastic on the top and widen the whole a little bit, so we don't have to stuff him in.” Toad answered. “Can we cover the top with some newspaper or something?”

“Sure. You go get the tissues, I'll look for newspaper.” Lance said, getting up off the floor.

And so the search continued. It didn't take long for the necessary items to be located and modified accordingly. Soon the two boys were back in the yard, standing over the deceased mammal. This was when a new problem arose.

“You pick him up.”

“No, you pick him up.”

“It's your squirrel.”
“So?”

“So, you should be the one to pick him up.”

“...You're taller.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don't know, yo, I just don't wanna pick him up.”

“Well, neither do I,” Lance said irritably. “Look, this is getting us nowhere. I'll go inside and get an old towel. I'll pick him up with it if you wrap him in it.”

Toad considered this notion. Finding it to be fair, he nodded. “Deal.”

Lance went inside, and chose the rattiest, oldest, most threadbare towel in the whole house. It had the faded design of some type of flower on it, so he figured it wouldn't be missed.

After making the journey back to his amphibian-esque friend, he picked the squirrel up, making sure to not actually touch it. He then handed the pack to Toad. He watched as the teen wrapped the squirrel in the old towel, a certain amount of sadness in his eyes. When he completed his task, he looked at his handiwork, and Lance could have sworn he saw the boys lower lip trembling.

“You okay, buddy?” Lance asked.

“Y-yeah, yo. Just, p-put him in the box for me.” Toad blubbered, obviously close to tears.

Lance, feeling pity for his friend, did as he was asked. After taping the newspaper over the top of the box, he held it in front of him.

“Now all that's left is to dig a whole. Do we have a shovel?” Lance asked.

“Think I saw one in Freddy's room, yo.” Toad replied, having calmed down a little.

Lance quickly decided that he didn't want to know why Freddy had a shovel in his room.

*15 minutes later*

It had taken three minutes to get the shovel, seven minutes find a place to dig, and five minutes to get the whole dug. Now all that was left was to put the squirrel in and fill in the whole. Or so Lance thought.

After Toad placed in the box, Lance started to fill in the whole, but Toad interrupted.

“Wait, yo!” Toad exclaimed.

“What?” Lance replied, his patience wearing thin.

“You gotta say something first.”

“You want me to say a service for him?” Lance asked disbelievingly.

“Well, yeah! I mean, that's what they do at real funerals, I think.”

“Well, it was your squirrel, why don't you say something? I don't know anything about him, Freddy's taking a nap, and do you really want Pietro to say something?” Lance retorted.

“...Good point.” Toad conceded. “Okay, here goes.”

Toad took a deep breath, and started in on his speech.

“Snicker was a good squirrel, always jumping in and out of trees, burying nuts, avoiding traffic, and wooing lady squirrels. But he did more than that. Snicker was my friend. He would listen to what I had to say, chase after peanuts I had flicked for him, and performing acrobatic tricks for his and my amusement. I named him Snicker because he always seemed to have something to laugh about. He was a happy, active creature, and could never be said to have stayed in the same place for very long. I will always remember that Snicker was a free soul, and was not ever meant to be tamed. I hope he has found a better place, and that he will continue to be happy, wherever he is.” Upon concluding his speech, Toad tossed the first handful of dirt into the whole.

Lance was... definitely surprised. Not only had he finally learned Snicker's name, Toad managed a very heartwarming speech, and he got through the whole thing without ever saying 'yo,' not even once.

“Well... I guess that's that.” Lance said after a pause. He then proceeded to fill in the rest of the whole.

“Hang on a second, yo. I just gotta do one more thing.” Toad said, hopping off at the end of his sentence.

He came back quickly, holding a stone in his hand. With a certain amount of ceremony, Toad set the rock at the head of the makeshift grave.

“Bye, Snicker. I'll miss you buddy.”