It started, as all great tragedies do, with an itch.
Lenny Twinklespark was lounging on the sofa, half-asleep, watching a documentary about frogs that screamed when touched (don't ask). One moment he was peaceful—serene, even. The next…
sniff
That itch hit like destiny.
"Oof. That's… deep," he murmured, jabbing a finger up his left nostril with the casual confidence of a man who'd done this before.
Except this time… something went wrong.
Something terribly wrong.
His finger stopped. Lodged. Snagged. Suspiciously stuck.
"Wait," he whispered. "No no no—"
He tugged gently.
Nope.
A little harder.
Still nope.
Lenny's face contorted into panic. "What the hell?!" he shrieked, trying to yank it out. "Why is my nose a death trap?!"
He was in full goblin mode—one sock, snack crumbs all over his shirt, anime pause screen frozen on a screaming frog—when the doorbell rang.
Ding-dong~
He froze.
"…No. No no no, not now—!"
He tiptoed to the door like a burglar in his own house, finger still halfway up his nose, eyes wide. Maybe it was a parcel guy. Maybe they'd leave. Maybe—
"Lenny~? You in there?"
Cassie.
His soul left his body.
"Nope," he squeaked, voice cracking. "No Lenny here."
Pause.
"…Did you say that with your own voice?"
"...Yes."
Another pause. Then, "Open the door, dummy."
Lenny sighed the sigh of a defeated man and opened the door with all the grace of a man trying to hide the fact that his index finger was completely consumed by his nasal passage.
Cassie blinked.
Her eyes travelled from his wild hair, to his panic sweat, to—finally—his nostril.
"…What," she said, voice flat. "What are you doing?"
He couldn't lie. He couldn't move. He was nose-deep in shame.
"I got stuck."
Cassie raised an eyebrow. "In… your nose?"
"It itched!"
"Why didn't you just use a tissue?"
"I panicked!!"
There was a long silence.
Then she burst out laughing.
Like, wheezing, doubled-over, tears-in-her-eyes laughing. She dropped her bag. She collapsed onto his welcome mat. She gasped, "You—you're like a reverse unicorn!"
"I'm suffering," he mumbled.
Eventually, Cassie wiped her eyes and helped him back inside, gently guiding him to the couch like a wounded soldier. "Alright, Commander Nostril. Let's see what we're working with."
She leaned in. "Oh my god, it's actually in there."
"You think I'm doing this for fun?"
With a few strategic squirts of water from a sippy bottle (don't ask), and some teamwork, Lenny was finally freed. He held up the finger like it was Excalibur.
Cassie clapped.
"You brave, stupid idiot," she said fondly.
"I hate my life."
"Wanna watch frogs scream again?"
"…Yeah."