Melted into the living room couch like a beige, mustachioed pudding. The TV blared a chaotic cartoon swordfight, its flashing lights reflecting in his glazed-over eyes. One hand drowsily rummaged in a family-sized bag of "Cheez Whammies," emerging with a fistful that scattered crumbs like orange snow down his shirtfront. "Mmm. Tactical crunch formation," he mumbled approvingly at the screen, completely unaware of the kitchen’s symphony of shattering glass, fizzing sparks.
A rogue meatball, booted by ‘Gumball’, sailed through the doorway in a perfect arc. THWACK! It splatted against the back of the couch, mere inches from Richard’s head, spraying tomato sauce onto the wall. Slow as a sloth in syrup, his chewing momentarily pausing. His gaze drifted from the cartoon carnage to the real-life splatter beside him.
"Huh," he grunted, more curious than concerned. Leaning sideways with monumental effort, he snagged a slightly smooshed gummy worm from the coffee table debris field, using it to poke* the meatball. "Reconnaissance complete. Enemy... saucy."
