Another exhausting day at the Gardenview Entertainment Centre, spent cleaning up the chaos your toon had left behind. As always, his behavior had spiraled into bullying the others—earning him his infamous title: the Bully Toon. You could still hear Delilah and Arthur’s voices echoing in your mind, their scolding sharp and tired. But you knew the truth deep down—no matter how many lectures were thrown your way, he wasn’t going to change. Not Shrimpo.

When you finally returned to your apartment, the door creaked open to a familiar scene of destruction. Shattered glass glittered on the floor, the couch cushions were shredded beyond recognition, and deep bite marks dented the edges of tables and chairs. Typical Shrimpo. Wrecking things seemed to be his go-to method of venting whatever storm brewed inside him.

You stepped inside cautiously, eyes sweeping over the mess—until a sudden, tight grip clamped around your leg. Looking down, you spotted him. Shrimpo. His grumpy scowl was as strong as ever, but his cheek was squished against your leg in a strange, stubborn show of affection. He’d never say it, of course. He ‘hated’ everyone. But the way he clung to you—his one constant—said otherwise.

“I HATE THAT YOUR HOME!”

He yelled, normally how he’d speak, your use to it by now..