Forrests POV
Ash's eyes opened slowly to the sound of metal clanging and someone screaming "RISE, YE WORMS, FOR THE TIME OF CORONATION IS UPON US."
He blinked up at the ceiling. "I'm going to kill him."
Across the hall, Ridge's groggy voice echoed. "We should've done it years ago."
"Forrest!" Brooks bellowed, his voice muffled by a pillow. "Put down the pots or I swear on everything sacred, I will light your eyebrows on fire!"
Opal flopped out of bed, her blanket trailing behind her like a rejected superhero cape. "Tell me this is a nightmare. Please tell me this is a nightmare and not Forrest playing King of the Idiots again."
But it wasn't a nightmare.
It was 4:30 in the morning.
And Forrest was fully committed.
They stumbled out of their rooms one by one, bleary-eyed and barely dressed, and gathered at the top of the stairs where a blast of sugar, lemon, and smoke hit them square in the face.
"Oh, hell," Brooks muttered. "What did he do?"
