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Do The Dishes

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"Come on, Pent." Smack says, literally dragging his much taller friend to the kitchen. "You've gotta do these dishes, and I'm not waiting anymore." Pent lent out a loud groan, trying vaguely to pull their arm away from Smack so they wouldn't be dragged to their chores anymore.

Smack only gripped on their wrist tighter and continued to pull. "No, there's no getting out of this one, you've been putting it off for so long that we don't have anymore clean dishes." Pent, of course, only groaned again in response.

They arrived in the kitchen, where indeed, the sink had been piled up high with plates, cups, bowls, cutlery and other assorted dishes. Pent sat up, looking over the mess that really, was mostly their fault. Smack pointed, other hand on his hip. "Dishes, do 'em."

Pent flopped back down, "Won't you help at least? I can't be expected to all these on my oooowwwwnnnnn." They whined. Smack shook his head,
"You don't need help, Pent, you're just lazy." He did grin a bit though, having already gone through this same argument countles times before and already knowing how it'd end.

"Nooo, I need heeelp." They rolled over, flopping down," I can't do all this hard work by myself," They flopped a hand out. "I'm fragile." They concluded. Smack couldn't help

"You're 6'4" and some many pounds, how are you fragile, Pent?"

They wiggled their fingers. "I got baby hands.." They faked coughing. "I can't *cough cough* do it on my own. *Cough* I'll die, Smack." Smack continued to chuckle at the display before him. He finally stood up straight.

"Fine, fine, if you'll quit whining, I'll help you. I'll help you do these dishes, you big baby." Pent, at this, sat right up.

"Alright, I'll do it then." They reached their hand out, "Help me up." And Smack did so.

Pent rolled up the sleeves of their infamous jacket, and stepped up to the sink, taking dishes out and setting them on the counter beside it. Smack brought a stool over and stood on it, filling the sink partly with hot water.

Really, after that, the dish washing went rather smoothly, the two of them chatting back and forth about various topics, and light teasing over things- such as Pent's pouting everytime they lost a game. Any game, really. Pent always retorting back that they did capital N -Not- pout every time they lost a game. Instead saying the only reason they lost as much as they did was because of Smack's future vision. "Nah man, you're just bad at games."

"Am not!"

"Are too."


The argument seemed to go back and forth till they were done with the dishes, though by then, it had become partly a splashing match, with Pent 'winning' only because there was more area on Pent to cover in water.

When they looked around themselves when they were done, Smack gestured at Pent. "See? Now we have to clean up even more, and it's you're fault."

"It is not!"

"Is too."

"Is NOT-"

There was gonna be a lot of cleaning that day.