Random Barnaby Oneshots (A Wattpad Fanfiction)

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Trigger warning: death. Reader discretion is advised.

It was dark and stormy out. The mansion was quiet, save for the sounds of someone cooking in the kitchen. A black figure was hopping around the kitchen. Upon closer inspection, a person can see it was an owl. His orange eyes darted from the pie he was baking to a small human with blue hair peeling the cherries. They were both humming the same tune and exchanging jokes. They were both in a good mood. That good mood was going to come to a screeching halt. "You know, Ali, I never knew you were a good cook!" The bird exclaimed, stretching his neck.

The girl, Ali, replied, "You're honestly very kind." Ali remembered to shift into a ghost and visit Barnaby. She personally liked spending time with the ghost owl. She felt like she could take off her tough, mean mask and show her true nature to Barnaby. The first time she stimmed in front of him, he thought she was possessed by an illness. It took some explaining for Barnaby to realize that it was totally normal.

The front door burst open. Both Barnaby and Ali glanced at each other and groaned in unison, "Emma." They both dislike Emma, but for different reasons. Ali hates Emma because she finds her to be a disgrace of a human, Barnaby hates Emma because of her rude manners and insistence to steal his wine. Barnaby was about to storm out when Ali stopped him with a warning glance from her emerald green eyes.

"I got this one." Ali purred to the ghost owl. "Stand still. I'm going to do something interesting." She strolled outside, her body morphing into Barnaby himself, save for three key differences: her eyes were green instead of orange, her tweed jacket and bowtie were blue instead of purple, and she had lashes. She bit back screams of pain and anguish as she morphed. When she was done morphing, she looked a lot like Barnaby. She snuck up on the thief, screeching, "AND WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!? I OUGHT TO KICK YOU OUT FOR BEING NOTHING SHORT OF A COMMON THIEF." The thief turned around, her shit colored eyes large.

"I'm taking this wine. Nobody is alive to drink it." The thief retorted. "Cheerio."

"You're not leaving. I'm taking you straight to my grandpa!" Ali hooted, grabbing the thief.

"Is he ready for some hot [redacted] and wine?" She asked excitedly. Ali bit back a groan. She knew that the thief was Emma. She plucked the wine bottle out of her fat, grubby fingers with one foot and with the other, grabbed the thief.

Instead of answering, Ali hooted, "Grampy Barnaby! We have a guest who wants to party!" Barnaby turned to the owl, his orange eyes large with confusion. He rubbed the orange brooch, trying to figure out who the imperfect spitting image of him was. "Play along." Ali muttered to Barnaby. He grinned, sticking his tongue out. Ali mimicked the facial expression, gently bumping foreheads.

"She's alive!" Barnaby hooted, twisting himself around. "She's flesh and bone and...!" Barnaby temporarily struggled with coming up with something fitting.

Ali chirped, "There's a tiny fee in order to join this party!" She turned to Emma and asked, "Question remains, do you want to be smothered? Poisoned? I prefer hari kari myself. Although that's not an appropriate death for a thief." She commented.

Barnaby caught on, realizing that Ali was offering deaths to Emma. From his few encounters with that good for nothing, pale skinned, rat haired brat, he knew that she was delusional beyond relief. "I have the perfect death for her!" He exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "Give me a few minutes to prepare a glass for us!"

He flew to his special poison cabinet. He peeked around, finding the perfect poison. He knew cyanide would be perfect for the job. So he poured a glass of wine, then he added a few sprinkles of cyanide. Then he prepared two virgin Shirley Temples, smirking at himself for a job well done. He headed back to the kitchen, his orange eyes glowing. He placed the wine glass in Emma's hand, grinning. Then he handed Ali a Shirley Temple (also not poisoned). "I was kidding about the death thing!" He hooted, nudging the smaller copy of him.

"You have a killer sense of humor, Grampy Barnaby." Ali responded, hooting. Then they drank, watching Emma drink the wine eagerly.

"This wine tastes delicious! But why is there a hint of almonds to it?" Emma exclaimed, downing her glass. "I love it!" Then she clutched her stomach. "Wait... What is in that wine!?"

"What do you mean?" Ali asked innocently.

"Wine shouldn't make me feel like I'm being stabbed!" Emma moaned, dropping her glass. Ali knew exactly what happened the minute she mentioned almonds. She smirked at Barnaby as Emma sank to the floor.

"Should we tell her?" Ali asked Barnaby, tilting her head.

"She's almost dead, so why not?" Barnaby replied, ruffling his mini me's feathers.

"Remember that almond taste in your wine, Emma?" Ali redirected her question to Emma, who was struggling to breathe. She couldn't say anything as Ali picked her up by the throat and whispered, "You were poisoned. Right now, you're almost dead." Emma was foaming at the mouth, unable to call Ali anything. Then she took one final breath and stopped convulsing. "We should probably bottle her soul." Ali muttered.

"Dear, there's one problem with that." Barnaby pointed out, spreading his wings, "She doesn't have much of a soul. But it's enough for me to bottle up." He grabbed the now empty wine bottle and tsked at Emma. "If the cyanide didn't kill her, the consumption of wine would have." He commented.

Ali agreed, preening her feathers. Yeah, this ghost owl deserves my respect. He is so cordial and kind. Offering Emma that wine was probably his idea.

Heh. I had too much fun taking a dig at her love of wine. Next time I should probably make her drink so much that her liver shuts down, though. A special thanks goes to the reader for reading about how one should always be cautious about their surroundings even if they are with a comfort character. No thanks whatsoever goes to atheistbisexual.