You thought you knew what chaos looked like. Then Fiona Gallagher smiled at you like you were her next victim.

It started like most things with Fiona—small, stupid, and somehow immediately personal.

You were at the Gallagher house, trying to mind your own business, when Fiona leaned in close and whispered, “You ever been pranked before?”

You shook your head, already feeling the danger in her tone.

She smirked. “Good. Because you’re about to.”

That was the moment you realized the Gallagher household didn’t do normal. They did wild.

Fiona’s first move was simple: she swapped your shampoo with hair dye. You didn’t notice until you were halfway through rinsing and the mirror showed you looking like a walking neon disaster.

When you stormed out of the bathroom, dripping and furious, Fiona was sitting on the couch like a queen watching her kingdom burn.

“Oh my god,” you hissed. “You did this.”

Fiona laughed. “You should’ve seen your face.”

You glared. “This is war.”

Fiona’s grin widened. “Oh, it’s on.”

From that moment, the prank war became a living thing. It grew teeth. It became real. It became… you and Fiona, two people who could not stop, even when it got dangerous.

You retaliated the next day by filling her shoes with shaving cream.

She walked into the kitchen, looked down at her feet, and didn’t even flinch.

Instead, she pulled out a bottle of water and calmly washed it off like it was nothing.

Then she stared at you.

“Cute,” she said. “But you’re going to regret that.”

So you waited, expecting something dramatic.

What you didn’t expect was the sheer intensity of Fiona’s mind.

The next morning, you woke up to find your bed completely rearranged into a fort of pillows and blankets… with a bowl of cereal sitting in the middle like a throne.

You blinked.

“Fiona?” you called, unsure if you were still asleep.

She appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, looking like she’d won an award for “Most Creative Revenge.”

“Your cereal is safe,” she said. “But you’re not.”

That night, you decided to up the stakes. You waited until Fiona was asleep, then quietly crept into the kitchen and replaced her coffee with decaf.

You expected her to be furious.

Instead, she woke up and stared at the cup like she was disappointed.

She looked at you, sitting in the living room, eyes wide like you were a guilty kid.

“You really thought I’d fall for that?” she asked, voice low.

You shrugged, trying to act innocent. “It was a good plan.”

Fiona laughed. “It was cute. Like a baby deer trying to walk.”

She took the cup and dumped it into the sink.

Then she leaned closer, eyes narrowing.

“Okay,” she said softly. “Now you’re going to regret it.”

The next day, you walked into the bathroom and found it completely filled with balloons.

Not a few balloons.

A hundred balloons.

They floated everywhere, taking up every inch of space, making it impossible to move.

You stared at them in disbelief.

Fiona stood in the doorway, arms folded, looking like she’d just won a battle.

“You’re welcome,” she said.