Chapter 59 - 7
Chapter 7: Chips, Chakra, and the Future Batman of Amity Park
In which Danny tries to be serious, Tucker throws chips, and Sam might be in love with a lunatic.
At precisely five o'clock—also known as the sacred Hour of Snacks—Sam and Tucker arrived at the Fenton household, which somehow hadn't exploded that week. The ghost alarm was blissfully silent, the lab was sealed shut (probably with duct tape), and the living room hadn't been converted into a monster containment cell in at least three days.
Progress.
Danny's room, a controlled chaos of comic books, energy drink cans, and tech scraps, was surprisingly cozy. On the carpeted floor sat an offering of chips, cookies, and enough fizzy soda to short-circuit a ghost trap. Tucker leaned against Danny's bed frame, chewing through his second bag of chips like he'd been training for a snack-eating championship. Sam lounged in her signature purple beanbag, a silent but stylish observer of the chaos.
Danny himself was in the "Serious Chair"—a computer swivel chair that squeaked when he shifted his weight, which did not help with the gravity he was trying to give the moment. His hands rested on his knees, his back was straight, and he looked like someone trying very hard to look like he wasn't trying very hard.
This, of course, was already suspicious.
"So," Tucker said, raising a brow and gesturing between Danny and Sam with a smirk, "I'm happy for you guys, really. But why did you invite me here to be your emotional third wheel? Did you want to rub it in?"
Danny blinked, mouth twitching upward. "Tucker, my guy. My brother in snack-based diplomacy. I'm offended you'd think I'd do something so petty."
There was a beat of silence. Sam glanced at him. Tucker raised his other eyebrow.
Danny cracked. "Okay, I definitely invited you to feel the crushing weight of singlehood. It builds character."