CO Short Stories [COMPLETED]

[Canon] Brown and Yellow

"Ack!" Mic yelled, putting her hands to her head. "Paintbrush!"

"Whoops. Guess I slipped. Sorry about that!" Paintbrush tried to hide a smirk as they turned away and walked back to where Suitcase was working on her own canvas.

"Thirty seconds left!" MePhone announced out of the blue. Startled, and now considerably concerned, Mic dunked her brush back into a can of pink paint and desperately rushed to fix the damage Paintbrush had caused.

"Microphone!" Taco hissed in her ears. "What was that? You just let that bristly beast ruin your painting!"

"It wasn't my fault! I didn't see it coming!" Mic whispered back.

Taco's sigh came through as a burst of frustrated static. "Well, I hate to say this, but I believe we're going to have to switch targets again-"

"Time's up!" MePhone yelled, just as MePad's timer hit zero. "I'm going to look at what you've all got now. The three people with the highest score win immunity. Suitcase and Paintbrush, let's start with you two."

"Why both of them at once?" Knife questioned.

"Because they worked on their painting together, apparently."

Suitcase looked at the host. "Oh. Uh... yeah." Paintbrush came over and they both presented their piece, which was a group image of the final 8 of II2, as well as the three hosts. "We thought it would be nice to do something like-"

"7 for both of you," MePhone interrupted. "It's decent enough, but my nose isn't that big."

Puzzled, Suitcase glanced at the painting - she hadn't given MePhone a nose - but he was already moving onto someone else. "Next is Microphone." He looked at her canvas - a mess of purple, pink, and yellow - and frowned. "Uh, not sure what this is. I like the colors, I guess, so I'll just say 3."

As Mic spluttered protests, the phone continued going through the contestants. Knife got a 5, Baseball got a 0, Lightbulb got an 8, Fan got a 6, and Test Tube got a 3.

"So, to summarize," MePhone stated, "Lightbulb is safe, along with Suitcase and Paintbrush. The rest of you are up for elimination."

"Yeah! High-five, immunity pals!" Lightbulb held out a hand. Reluctantly, Paintbrush high-fived her back, but Suitcase declined. Some of the others just grumbled.

Microphone quickly snuck away from the group and adjusted the gain on her back so that Taco's voice was at the right level. "Well, you blew that," the Mexican food muttered. "Two challenges in a row. We're going to have to do something about those two brown and yellow saboteurs, assuming you survive this elimination."

Mic glanced nervously behind her, where Paintbrush and Suitcase were silently conspiring with one another. "I'm afraid that they're going to do something about me. Do you think they know about you?"

"Due to the way Paintbrush is obviously targeting you, likely, but it's impossible to know for sure just yet. Next challenge, perhaps try approaching them and let's see what happens." Mic nodded and switched off her gain.

Suitcase watched as Microphone strolled away. "You did pretty good," she admitted to Paintbrush. "But how can we be sure she'll be eliminated?"

"Don't worry. I'll take care of that."

Knife watched all three of them with a mild curiosity. But, after a moment, he shrugged and walked off. Not my problem, he thought.

Sitting in the bleachers together, Leafy and Clock saw more or less everything. "...do you ever feel like there's a lot more going on in these challenges that you're aware of?" Clock wondered out loud. Leafy just nodded in agreement.

--------------------

Later that night...

"Alright," MePhone said, looking over the eight contestants sitting on log stumps in front of him. "I've tallied the votes." He gestured over to MePad, who had a loading screen displayed. "The person with the most votes will be eliminated." The other objects glanced around at each other nervously.

"I'll read the votes. First vote: Knife." Knife's icon appeared on MePad's screen. Knife just rolled his eyes.

"Fan." Fan's icon appeared, and he and Test Tube glanced at each other. Test Tube put her hand to her 'chin.'

When MePhone called out Test Tube's name next, she gasped quietly and looked surprised. She furtively looked around at the other contestants, but nobody else betrayed any emotion.

"Microphone." MePad loaded Mic's image onto his screen. "One vote Knife, one vote Fan, one vote Test Tube, and one vote Microphone," MePhone summarized. "Now, the next four votes all go to the same person. So the twelfth contestant voted out is..."

MePhone paused for dramatic effect, and Paintbrush sighed in relief, already knowing the answer.

"...Microphone." Mic's icon appeared in the final four sections, including the bottom one labeled ELIMINATED.

Microphone gasped a little, but she wasn't completely surprised. Baseball and Knife looked so, however, but nobody else did. "Oh, well," Mic muttered to herself. "It was only a matter of time, I suppose."

"Indeed." MePhone snapped his fingers, and without another word, Microphone glumly walked into the elimination portal.

--------------------

"Microphone," Taco spoke into her headset.

Static.

"Microphone, answer me!" she said, louder this time.

There was a small burp of noise, then the static disappeared, replaced by Mic's voice. "Sorry," she apologized. "I had to find a quiet spot in the hotel, which is much harder than it seems."

"What happened over there?" Taco said coldly. "How did Paintbrush manage to get you voted out?"

"I think they told their friends to vote me," Mic said after a pause. "Lightbulb, Fan, and Test Tube, and they also somehow have Suitcase on their side."

Taco was silent for several moments. "It appears as if our business is concluded, then," she finally said.

"Yeah." Another short pause. "For what it's worth... thank you, for helping me. Really. I appreciate it."

Taco hesitated. "Microphone, I-"

Click.

Taco stared at her receiver, but there was nothing wrong with it. Mic had simply turned off her gain. The Mexican meal sighed and slipped off her headset, setting it gently off the ground. Near the end, despite her aggravations at the girl, Taco had almost felt like they were becoming friends.

She shook her head. Friends aren't going to help me. Taking a notepad and pencil out from her shell, Taco began to brainstorm new ways of taking the million - or at least, part of it - for herself.

rip Microphone lol

Taco's gonna have to think of a new plan >:)

in case anyone's wondering: Baseball voted Knife, Knife voted Fan, Microphone voted Test Tube, and everyone else voted Mic

half-edit: oh jeez I almost posted this without adding a title LMAO