Dumb...Huh? - Tealy and the Crew
Nobody really knew how DumbDird had acquired a game show set. Tealy hadn't asked. Nobody had asked. There was a point with DumbDird where asking how he obtained large physical objects was simply not worth the damage to your own mental health.
The set looked like someone had described a game show to a golden retriever and then given that golden retriever a construction budget. There was a stage. There were colorful lights that flickered slightly too much. There was a large, aggressively cheerful sign that read "DUMB...HUH?" in letters that were not all the same size. And front and center, gleaming under the wobbly spotlights like a medieval siege weapon that had gotten lost on the way to a war, was the catapult.
It was a real catapult. A full, functional, wooden catapult.
Tealy stood at the entrance and looked at it for a long time.
"I'm not playing," he said immediately. "I'm just watching."
"DURR, OKAY TALLY!" DumbDird hollered from the stage, wearing what appeared to be a sequined game show host jacket over his normal clothes. He had a microphone. Nobody knew where it came from. Probably the pants.
The contestants had assembled, each there for their own deeply personal reasons.
Blara had shown up because DumbDird had promised a full snack table backstage and she had confirmed its existence before agreeing to anything. She was already eating. She had not stopped eating since arrival. She glanced at the catapult with mild irritation and then back at her chips. "If that thing launches me I'm going to be so annoyed," she said, in the flat tone of someone who was mostly annoyed already.
Beric had wandered in with his 3DS, looked at the catapult, spent four minutes examining its construction with genuine professional curiosity, declared the engineering "actually not bad," and then taken his seat. He seemed more interested in the catapult's mechanics than his own survival odds.
Dird was there because DumbDird had given him money. Actual money. He had simply held it out and Dird had taken it and sat down without a word, which said everything. He had a book with him because of course he did, and he was reading it now with the composed energy of someone who had already calculated their probability of success and found it acceptable.
UltraDumbDird was there because DumbDird had invited him and he had said, verbatim, "Duh, is the catapult food?" It was not food. Nobody had confirmed this to him yet. He was looking at it with cautious optimism.
And Tealy was in a chair off to the side with a bag of Dumb Snacks — Banana Nacho, because that was all DumbDird had in bulk — watching all of this unfold with the quiet energy of a man who had made his one good decision of the day by not signing up.
DumbDird tapped the microphone. It screeched feedback across the entire room.
"DURR, WELCOME," he announced grandly, "TO DUMB... HUH?"
He paused for applause. There was no applause. Blara crunched a chip.
"DURR, HERE ARE THE RULES." He held up one finger. "I say Huh. If you say Dumb right before I say it, you get a taco." He held up a second finger. "If you don't—" he pointed lovingly at the catapult, "—DURR, YOU GO ON A LITTLE TRIP."
"How far," Dird said without looking up from his book.
"Durr, pretty far."
Dird turned a page. "Acceptable."
"IS THE CATAPULT FOOD," UltraDumbDird said.
"DURR, NO COUSIN, IT IS NOT FOOD, WE HAVE BEEN OVER THIS—"
"It looks like food."
"DURR, IT IS WOOD—"
"Wood," UltraDumbDird repeated, chewing this over. "Like a burger?"
DumbDird stared at his cousin for a moment with an expression that was the closest thing to existential doubt his face had ever produced. Then he shook it off, because he was a professional, and turned back to his contestants.
"DURR, IS EVERYONE READY?"
"No," said Blara.
"DURR, GREAT! LET'S GO!"
Round One: Beric.
Beric put his 3DS in his pocket, stood up, and approached the podium with the calm focus of a man defusing a bomb. He'd probably fixed a catapult before. He'd at least looked at one.
DumbDird stared at him. The lights flickered.
The silence stretched.
Beric waited.
More silence.
Beric's eye twitched slightly.
"...Huh?" said DumbDird.
"Dumb," said Beric, approximately three full seconds late.
The catapult arm swung. The seat launched. Beric cleared the back wall of the set with a clean arc and disappeared into the distance with the dignified silence of a man who had accepted his fate.
A faint "hm" echoed back from somewhere far away. Professionally calm until the end.
Tealy slowly ate a Banana Nacho gummy.
Round Two: Blara.
Blara walked up still holding her snack. She stood at the podium, chips in hand, chewing. She stared at DumbDird with deep personal resentment.
DumbDird stared back.
"Huh?" said DumbDird.
"Dumb," said Blara, completely on time, without blinking, without swallowing, without doing anything other than existing at the podium and saying the word.
A taco appeared from offstage. Nobody knew who threw it. Blara caught it one-handed, looked at it, looked at her chips, decided the taco was an acceptable development, and walked back to her seat eating both simultaneously.
Tealy pointed at her from across the room. "How."
Blara shrugged. "I just wanted the taco."
Round Three: Dird.
Dird dog-eared his page — an act which probably caused him physical pain — stood up, buttoned his jacket once for reasons known only to himself, and approached the podium with the energy of someone who had prepared for this.
He had, in fact, prepared for this. On the walk over he had mentally catalogued DumbDird's speech patterns, average pause length, and the subtle micro-expression DumbDird made approximately 0.4 seconds before saying something. He had done this entirely automatically, because Dird's brain didn't know how to not do that.
DumbDird stared at him. This was the rival round and both of them knew it.
"...Huh?" said DumbDird.
"Dumb," said Dird. Precisely on time. Possibly slightly early. Perfectly calibrated.
The taco arrived. Dird caught it, examined it, nodded once as though it had met his standards, and walked back to his seat, reopening his book before he'd even sat down fully.
Tealy squinted. "Show-off."
Dird turned a page.
Round Four: UltraDumbDird.
UltraDumbDird approached the podium with great enthusiasm and immediately tried to eat it.
"DURR, COUSIN, THAT'S THE PODIUM—"
"It's like from a burger," UltraDumbDird said, eyes bright.
"DURR, IT IS NOT—"
"It tastes like a burger," UltraDumbDird said, which raised serious questions about what had just happened.
"DURR, WE ARE DOING THE GAME—"
"Okay," said UltraDumbDird cheerfully, releasing the podium.
DumbDird composed himself. Adjusted his sequined jacket. Stared at his cousin.
The silence was enormous.
"Huh?" said DumbDird.
UltraDumbDird stared back with the eyes of a golden retriever watching a ceiling fan.
"...Huh?" said DumbDird again, slightly louder.
"Oh!" said UltraDumbDird. "DUMB!"
It was, by any reasonable count, two full "Huh?"s late.
The catapult launched with great enthusiasm. UltraDumbDird sailed over the back wall with a joyful "WHEEEEE" that faded slowly into the distance like a very stupid shooting star.
A beat of silence.
"Durr," said DumbDird quietly, watching the sky where his cousin had been. "Bye cousin."
Tealy finished his Banana Nacho gummies, looked at the empty bag, and looked at the stage where DumbDird was now taking a bow for an audience of Blara — who wasn't watching — and Dird — who was reading.
It had been, objectively, one of the stranger afternoons of his life.
"DURR, TALLY!" DumbDird hollered, spinning around. "DID YOU LIKE THE SHOW?!"
Tealy thought about it genuinely for a moment.
"Beric went really far," he said.
"DURR, YEAH HE DID!" DumbDird said proudly.
"That was pretty funny."
"DURRR!!"
Tealy stood up, tucked the empty snack bag under his arm, and headed for the exit. "Same time next week?"
DumbDird's face lit up like every light on the flickering set had suddenly decided to work properly all at once.
"DURRRR, YES! NEXT WEEK WE HAVE A BIGGER CATAPULT!"
Tealy stopped walking. Turned around slowly.
"...How much bigger."
DumbDird held his arms out as wide as they would go.
Tealy turned back around and kept walking. Behind him, he could hear Dird quietly negotiating a higher appearance fee.
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