User blog:Weavillain/FANFICTION: Nicely Done Ch. 5

Synopsis: When Lynn believes that Lincoln thinks of her, Lori, Luan, Lola, and Lisa as his "mean sisters", she conspires with the other four about what they should do about her discovery.

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4

Lynn carried both good intentions and a chocolate protein bar as she walked up the stairs en route to her bedroom——where her goth sister was sure to be, writing her little black heart out.

The only thing keeping Lynn's spirits from ascending the clouds was the fact that she hadn't thought of doing this sooner than now; what kind of "nice" big sister let their little sisters suffer the cruel, vexing hand of writer's block for as long as she had?! She should've realized that providing Lucy with brain food was not only proper but necessary for her literary brilliance to go on uninhibited! Sure, she wasn't completely sure that Lucy was going through a dry spell right now, but that didn't mean she could rest on her laurels by assuming that she could go on without her big sister lending a hand.

 'Gotta do better than this next time around,'  Lynn thought as her bedroom door greeted her at last. Oh, how she couldn't wait to see Lucy's little frown unfurl and morph into a grin at her generosity!

With eagerness guiding her haste, Lynn opened the door, a bright smiled adorning her freckle-splotched face.

And that's when she saw it, flashing over her head and around her body in the blink of an eye——the most she could discern was a black, overlapping mass of wings and…teeth(?) before she dropped to the floor (accidentally flinging the protein bar away as her arms flailed about) and cried out "Woah!" over the screeches and flapping that ceased in the breadth of a few seconds.

The silence permitted Lynn's waning courage to look up and scope out the matter at hand for herself…

…a decision that she instantly regretted as soon as she saw the source…or rather, sources of the disturbance, hanging upside down from every corner of the ceiling.

"W-what the-?!" Lynn cried, finding enough resolve to put a cork on the expletive that would've come out had she not been granted the wherewithal to stop.

That resolve, however, couldn't prevent her heart from fluttering wildly——threatening to burst through her chest, her hands from shaking, or her teeth from chattering.

Bats. Oh goodness, did Lynn hate bats. Those small bodies, those sharps, needling fangs, those beady little eyes blinking…staring…slicing through her like a scalpel…

Lynn felt her stomach twist in knots, her bile bubbling. She needed help and fast.

"Lucy?!" Lynn cried, shutting her eyes to avoid that stare of those winged beasts hanging menacingly overhead. "Lucy, where are you?! We've got a bat infestation in our room!"

"Oh, it's no infestation," came a lowly, Lucy-toned whisper next to her ear.

Lynn didn't even flinch. Ordinarily, Lucy popping up behind her (or always being there in some cases) would cause her to reel back in surprise, but she was too relieved with the hope that she could use those spooky bat-taming powers of hers to cause the bats to disperse and fly away with the snap of her fingers.

Unfortunately for her, those hopes were dashed when Lucy simply stepped in front of her and simply said, "It's a party."

"A…p-party?" Lynn stammered.

This time, she felt that she could afford to at least look Lucy in the eye, seeing as how she was around to ensure that those devilish little demons couldn't cause her any harm. Her uneasiness was further quelled when she saw that Lucy was smiling, a rare gift that Lynn took every opportunity to appreciate before it dissolved as quickly as they usually came.

"Fangs invited some friends over for his friend's girlfriend's quinceañera," Lucy said.

"You, uh…" Lynn swallowed to keep her bile from gushing out at the sight of one particular bat craning its head whilst staring at her. "…y-you don't say?"

"I do," Lucy replied. "I hope you don't mind."

It was there and then that Lynn realized that she was at a crossroads; she could forsake her sister's happiness for her own benefit or she could just suck it up and deal with a nuisance out of love.

The answer came to her as soon as she took a look at the little grin on Lucy's face again; it was her job as a "nice sister" to protect her joy before her own and even with those blood-sucking monsters looming around, she'd still see that mission through.

"A few bats? No sweat," Lynn said, feeling pride in how those bats now felt more like a minor inconvenience rather than a crippling source of fear; she had to grant Lucy's happy expression for that boost of courage.

Which is why it felt all the more dispiriting (not to mention confusing) when that smile vanished, leaving behind a frown in her wake. Lynn's cheerfulness buckled; shouldn't Lucy be doing the opposite of that?

"By the way," Lucy said, her words forced out with a sheen of annoyance in her tone, "I hate to tell you this, but I think your trophies are covered in bat guano."

 'There's no way she won't be annoyed by that,'  Lucy thought as she watched intently for Lynn's patience to chip away.

Even if her revelation was a little bit of an exaggeration, she still couldn't help but take pride in how much it seemed to affect Lynn. Try as she might, the jock couldn't hide her fists balling into twitchy nubs, her teeth clamping behind an angry frown she was trying to keep at bay, and her eyes squeezing shut to supposedly hide the fiery shade of red that drenched in her pupils.

This was it. Any second now, Lynn was gonna blow her top. Lucy would've felt a little guilty, what with how easy this whole thing was, but if it meant she could have the old Lynn back, she would go as far as to…to…

…okay, hold up. What?

Was she seeing things or was Lynn no longer seething? Was she hallucinating or was Lynn no longer grimacing? Was her brain messing with her was Lynn…was Lynn at peace with herself?

Again…what?

"Not to worry. I'll just clean it up later," Lynn said as she turned to walk away, that smile of hers insisting on staying plastered on just to spite her. "Have fun with Fangs' friend's girlfriend's quinceañera. I'm gonna go grab a popsicle."

Lucy could only watch as her older sister skipped (since when did Lynn ever skip?) away, leaving her to mutter the only phrase that could adequately spell out the frustration from her failure:

"Dang it."

 *thunk* 

Lisa grumbled underneath her breath, feeling the bruise in the back of her head throbbing after her cranium was greeted with yet another one of Lily's toys, courtesy of the aim and ill intentions of the baby sister herself.

It had been like this for about ten minutes now. Lisa was just minding her own business, attempting to extract lithium from a few lithium batteries at her desk, when the first assault occurred. A building block was Lily's weapon of choice at the time, and it was soon followed by another building block, her binky, a toy plane, a diaper (mercifully clean), and just now, her fake plastic phone.

Though Lisa wasn't exactly pleased with how Lily was behaving, she had to consider the factors at play that led her to draw the only logical conclusion that could explain what was happening——both her insistence and her snickering suggested that Lily was having a wonderful time using her sister's head as target practice.

Why? Lisa couldn't say for sure, but she wasn't about to let her sister's merriment go off without a hitch; no "nice sister" worth their sodium chloride wouldn't permit their baby sister to have their fun, would they? That's why, after taking about a minute to rub the aching sore spot on her noggin, Lisa scrambled off her stool, picked up the toys that were littered around her feet, and placed them all back before the stunned infant.

"Here you are," Lisa said, greeting her sister with a smile. "May your shenanigans resume without fail."

She turned around to get back to work, missing Lily's contemptuous scowl in all its pouty glory.

Once again, Luna was the loudest Loud in the house, jamming with her instruments at the highest level that both her amp and her parents would permit.

However, this time around, she was switching things up a bit and maybe, juuuuuuust maybe, this change of pace was a cleverly designed ploy, utilized to get under the skin of a certain ponytailed roommate of hers.

But then again, it was just a "maybe".

"I hope you don't mind me and my polka jams, Luan!" Luna shouted over the deafening electric accordion music that both her skilled fingers and her amp were ensuring were playing as loudly and as annoyingly as possible for an audience that was captive by their promise to hear her "latest inspiration".

Out of all the things that Luan hated in the world, polka music nearly topped the list. Only butterscotch pudding, dead crowds, and crickets surmounted that hatred and just barely. Luna knew that even with Luan's newfound patience in the works, she couldn't keep this up for long without snapping; the way she dug her fingers into the beanbag chair she was sitting on belied the "goodwill" from that forced smile on her face.

"You like what I'm hashin' out, sis?!" Luna taunted again.

Luna's inward grin slipped into an anxious frown when for the first time since her torment had begun, Luan responded with a much forward positive response than what she had done so far——a few tiny nods, sure, but the message that Luan was giving her was anything but tint: "I'm not gonna buckle!".

"Really?!" Luna replied, donning a cheeky grin. "Because accordion to my observations, you don't seem to be enjoying yourself!"

Feeling her arms and fingers tiring from the maniacal improv that was starting to become grating to her own ears as well, Luna hoped that her pun-based jab would work in getting under her skin; she didn't know how long she could keep this up. The last thing she needed was for Luan to respond with more positive reinforcement.

Which is why Luan didn't even budge under the taunt. Had Luna's hands not been preoccupied, she would've facepalmed herself at her lack of foresight; of course, Luan wouldn't find reason to be annoyed if someone was speaking on her level! Stupid, Luna! Stupid!

"Of course, I am, sis! I love me some polka!" Luan chirped as she jabbed a finger into a respective dimple that were further accentuated with her widening grin. "See? I even have my polka face on for the occasion!"

That did it. Her aching muscles were crying out for relief, and that horrid pun broke through Luna's fragile determination. With one last drawn out press against the F-sharp key, Luna dropped her instrument of torture out of her exhausted hands, not caring how sharply it landed against the floor. Her weary pants filled the air, but the noise was soon joined in by the sound up uproarious applause.

Before Luna flopped down on the floor in a tired heap, she was beginning to wonder if there was a chance that maybe, juuuuuuust maybe, if Luan was onto what she was trying to do, her exuberant request for an encore was her idea of getting back at her.

But then again, it was just a "maybe".

Leni wasn't quite sure what it was that annoyed Lori whenever she constantly asked for her opinion on her wardrobe (didn't Lori like to be relied on?), but the fashionista knew that she could use that tendency of irritated blowouts to her advantage. Add to the fact that she had the perfect arsenal to her advantage, that being her newly acquired assembly of sky blue tank tops, and Leni was sure that Lori would be foaming at the mouth as she was bombarded with questions like:

"You like this one, Lori?"

"Or what about this one?"

"Or this one?"

"How about this one?"

"Hey, Lori, what'd you think about this one?"

"Or…maybe that one?"

"Or this?"

"Or that?"

"Perhaps this?"

"Perhaps that one?"

"Doth this garment pleaseth thee?"

The cycle of ceaseless inquiries continued well past the point where Leni thought that Lori would snap at her, but Leni wasn't about to quit just yet.

She didn't need to, in fact, since before she could ask if her thirty-eighth tank top was good enough for her to wear, Lori finally looked away from her magazine, jumped off her bed, walked over to Leni, and held a finger up to her mouth.

All signs pointed to success, but even with victory seemingly at hand, Leni could do nothing but take in the consequences of her actions all at once; even if Lori's expression of neutrality wasn't a discernible one, it'd only be a matter of time before it crumbled away and her temper was unleashed on her in a tirade for the ages.

Leni gulped. A "shouty" Lori was a scary Lori, but if Lincoln and the others thought that this was for the best, then she couldn't find it in herself to do anything else but wait for Lori's inevitable rant.

"You know what, Leni?"

Leni didn't have the chance to whisper out a timid "What?" before Lori spoke again...

…only calmer. And was that a smile too?

"I think all of your new outfits look really cute on you," Lori said as she reached into her pocket.

By the time Lori had dug all the way in, Leni was already slowly backing up, knowing exactly where she was going with this. Her fears were affirmed when Lori pulled out the 5.44 x 2.64-inch terror that had been bugging her all day.

"We should take some selfies with you wearing every last one of them right now!" Lori squealed excitably, bounding towards Leni with a pep in each step.

"A-actually," Leni stammered, the vision of another horrid selfie flashing before her eyes. "I gotta see a dog about a man! Er, I mean, I dog about another dog! I mean, uh, I just…um…I-I think I hear the refrigerator running! I gotta go catch it!"

With that, Leni made her narrow escape, bolting out of her room with haste.

Well, actually, the "escape" was hardly narrow——that would imply that Lori actually bothered to give chase. Instead, the eldest Loud sibling merely shrugged her shoulders, picked up her magazine, and continued where she left off once she got back to her spot on the bed.

She'd be sure to tell Leni about the actual capabilities of a refrigerator once she came back.

The twins' bedroom was oft-described as a warzone, a battlefield where the resident combatants would duke it out over differences of both the petty and irreconcilable kind. This would result in both sides being torn asunder after the brawl of sisters was said and done.

This time around, however, the bedroom was in a mess for quite another reason. Lincoln and Lana took it upon themselves to gather up as much sticky, gooey mud as their buckets could carry and smear it on just about every last piece of Lola's furniture while Lola wasn't there. They even went the extra mile and slabbed some of her stuffed animals in the icky substance.

There was no way that Lola wasn't going to go ballistic over this. In all honesty, Lincoln found these measures to be a little extreme, but given how the others had failed to make his sisters crack, Lincoln figured that triggering the ire of the six-year-old girl with the most volatile temper on planet Earth was of the utmost priority——perhaps, Lola's bitterness would spread through the ranks and get the other four to come to their senses.

"Hey, Linc?" Lana asked, looking down at her phone.

"What's up, Lana?" Lincoln replied, applying a few more splotches of mud on Lola's vanity mirror.

"Lucy just texted me; Lola's gonna be here in about a minute."

Lincoln diverted his attention to Lana in a hurry. "Quick, get in position!" he said.

Lana, having memorized what Lincoln had rehearsed with her several times, did just that as she hopped onto Lola's bed and shielded herself with a mud-drenched pillow. Meanwhile, Lincoln packed up a ball of mud from one of the muddy buckets and posed in front of Lana, looking like he was about to hurl another projectile her way.

The wait didn't last long as in about twenty seconds, Lola waltzed in the bedroom, blissfully unaware of the bedlam that her older siblings had caused.

That is, until a good two seconds had passed, and she gasped at the sight before her. Meanwhile, Lana and Lincoln had to do their best to retain their composures, as if Lola had caught them in the middle of having a blast.

"Oh, hey, Lola!" Lana waved from behind the pillow.

Lincoln look over his shoulder and grinned innocently. "We were just having a mudball fight and man, did it get really messy in here or what?!"

"Your canopy bed was a great fortress, by the way!" Lana added, peeking her head over the pillow.

Silence followed her cheery retort as the mud-slinging duo patiently waited for Lola to snap. Lincoln noted how eerily catatonic Lola was behaving; she was just staring blankly at them, almost as if she was mentally contemplating the most painful way of dishing out her vengeance before she lunged at them with bloodshot eyes and fingers just itching to get a few (hundred) punches and scratches in.

But instead, Lola spoke in a tone that was empty of any of the fury that either Lana or Lincoln were expecting.

"I…can't believe you'd do this to me," Lola said, her lower lip beginning to quiver.

Said quivering quickly spread through her upper lip, trembling into a formation that made Lana and Lincoln gasp.

"How come you guys didn't invite me?!" Lola cried as she raced towards a mud-filled bucket, giggling with a giddy smile for all to see.

Too stymied to form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought, Lana and Lincoln just stared back at Lola, disbelieving what their eyes were beholding; Lola was willingly dipping her arms into the chunky filth, procuring a glob of muck in each hand.

"Well, come on! You guys waiting for an invitation or something?!" Lola teased as she unveiled her weapons of choice. "Let's have some muddy fun!"

Nothing, not even a cold, slimy mudball to the face, could get Lincoln to get out of his trance. Nothing had worked so far. Nothing. It was at this point that Lincoln started to feel things beyond the shock of the present situation.

Dread. Concern. Worry. Lincoln was contending with each emotion behind the veil of his rigid face. If he didn't do something about them and soon, there was a chance that he'd never get his sisters back, sisters who were willing to just be themselves.

With dinner time just around the corner, Lincoln knew that he'd act quickly if he wanted to try his luck again; he couldn't exactly pull of his current operation with his parents watching their every move at the dining table.

But just then, another through crossed his mind, and it presented him with a gleaming sign of hope: why hurry when you can wait until after dinner?

For the first time since Lola's uncharacteristic behavior began, Lincoln smiled as the gears of his brain were already working into a new foolproof scheme that he was sure would get results.

Unfortunately, his smile was just big enough for an incoming mudball to fly directly into his mouth.

 LATER THAT EVENING… 

Lincoln never thought that he'd ever be thanking one of Luan's inventive pranks for what he and his conspiring sisters were up to now.

He, Luna, Lana, Lucy, and Leni excused themselves from dinner early, leaving the rest of their family behind to chat and dine in their absence. Lily was a part of the plan too, but she didn't have to come right away; her role would be coming into play later. For now, the others were busy at work, constructing a slingshot at the top of the stairs.

Much like Luan had done on April Fool's Day three years ago, she used a large rubber band and hooked both ends around the knobs at the top of each banister——effectively making a giant slingshot. She then used that makeshift slingshot to chuck buckets of chum and garbage at unsuspecting victims.

What the quintet were doing was practically similar, except they decided to go with balloons filled with yellow paint as their ammo. While Lincoln tested the elasticity of the rubber band, the others were busy at work, filling their ammo bucket with balloon after balloon. Lana and Luna didn't seem to mind what they were doing, but it didn't take long for Lucy to go against the grain and voice her concerns once she walked up to Lincoln, making sure that he saw her coming.

"Lincoln, are you sure this is a good idea?" Lucy asked once she finally approached her brother.

Lincoln groaned, annoyed at the uncertainty that Lucy had presented him.

"Trust me, Lucy," Lincoln assured, "if this doesn't send them over the edge, then nothing will. We're gonna blast 'em so hard, that they'll stop being 'nice' for an eternity."

It was as if her anxiety was contagious because Leni was the next to speak up, leaving the others to manage the ammo bucket duty on their own.

"Lincoln, I-" Leni began to say before Lincoln cut her off.

"Leni, do you wanna go blind?" Lincoln asked, folding his arms and casting her a stern frown. "Because that's exactly what'll happen if Lori doesn't get over her selfie craze."

Leni just sheepishly rubbed her arm and looked down, avoiding his flinty glare altogether.

"I-I mean," Leni murmured, "I could just ask her to-"

"Poo-poo! Poo-poo!"

Everyone perked up. Lily, their stool pigeon, had just given them the signal that their targets were fast approaching.

"That must be them!" Lincoln shouted in a hushed tone as he looked back at his accomplices. "Get into positions everyone!"

While the sisters manned the bucket, slipping it into place in the middle of the slingshot, Lincoln peered over the top step and watched as Lily, who sat next to the stairs, was given lavish attention by Lori, Luan, Lynn, Lola, and Lisa. Lynn, who was busy lifting Lily up to give her tummy raspberries, failed to notice Lily looking up at her brother, and giving him a nod.

As soon as she did, she slipped out of Lynn's arms, and made a dash for the dining room. Once she was out of the way, Lincoln gave the order to deploy the ammo with a loud shout of "Now!"

As soon as the word slipped out, the "nice" sisters looked up just in time to see a hailstorm of balloons raining down on them. Screaming and splat noises filled the air, and Lincoln couldn't help but shut his eyes as the onslaught continued. He couldn't tell how long it all lasted but alas, with one final splat, Lincoln knew that the carnage was done. Slowly peeling his eyelids open, Lincoln wore a triumphant grin at what his eyes came across: the targets dazed and confused, looking at the mess that had befallen them. He'd pat himself on the back, but Lincoln was too busy admiring the damage that he knew would cause his sisters to…to…

Lincoln paused his victorious inner monologue as his eyes widened, realizing what had just happened.

Or better yet, what hadn't happened.

"What?!" he cried, banging a fist against the floor. "How'd they all miss?!"

His accomplices joined him, looking over the precipice and realizing that Lincoln was indeed correct. Their ammo had certainly made their mark, but not where they wanted. Instead of any of the paint landing on the sisters, it had covered just about every square inch of their immediate surroundings; the ceiling, carpet, front door, walls…everywhere but whom they were aiming for.

And, just to make matters worse, Lincoln felt a stabbing chill jam its way into his heart, nearly freezing the blood in his veins at what he was hearing: footsteps. Two pairs of footsteps.

Lincoln started to shake like an autumn leaf blown in the chilly wind. He had completely forgotten about adding his parents into the equation, but there wasn't a chance he was going to forget how they were going to react once they stumbled across what he and the others had done.