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Changing Stan


by springsteen0991

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Stan woke up every day at the exact same time, when the sun's rays barely came through the small window next to his bed. The white Hissi would slink out of it every morning and glance around his room; a small enclosed space with blank white walls, and nothing else besides his bed. There was a pale look to Stan's face no matter what the Hissi was doing, not like he ever did much besides eating and sleeping.

      This morning was quite different though. Dark clouds had already begun to cover the sky before the sun could rise and let its rays hit his dull room's windows, and he consequently slept in. Alarmed after waking up at such a late hour, the Hissi quickly flew from his bed, out of his room, and into the kitchen to make his usual breakfast. He ate oatmeal every morning at the same time, but not this morning. This morning, he was late.

      Quickly opening up a white cabinet to begin fixing his breakfast, the Hissi wasted no time. But before he could do much, he heard a loud knock on his door that made him wince. He slowly closed the cabinet and glided over to his front door, twisting the knob with his wing in a difficult manner.

      "Hello, Stan," a Split Poogle said casually. Stan cocked his head and stared at the Poogle that had just randomly shown up at his doorstep. She (at least, he thought it was a girl) was carrying two buckets of multicolored paint in each paw, and had a green backpack that looked full sliding off of her right arm.

      "Hello," Stan greeted awkwardly. "Er, how can I help you? How do you know my name?"

      The Poogle laughed. "I know a lot about you, Stan," she said with a wink. "I'm Trina, and I come from a little organization that will change your world."

      "But I need to eat breakfast, I'm already late!" Stan replied in a panicky voice. He turned around and tried to fly away, but Trina set her buckets of paint down and grabbed his tail, letting him fall back to the ground.

      "I'm here from the Association of Happiness; we dedicate our lives to helping poor souls like you. Now, shall we begin?" Trina set her buckets of paint down by the front door and let her backpack slip off of her arm and into the grasp of her paw. She forced a bewildered Stan to follow her into the kitchen, and opened up the Hissi's oatmeal cabinet. "You really don't have anything to eat here besides oatmeal, Stan," she said doubtfully. "I'll fix that."

      "No," Stan pleaded. "I like oatmeal a lot, and it would be really nice if you left right now, because my schedule of the day has already been ruined, and-"

      "Stan, calm down," the Poogle said, pulling out all of the white oatmeal boxes and dumping them on the floor.

      "You're making a mess!" Stan exclaimed, flapping his wings wildly.

      "Messiness is what makes life interesting." Trina then pulled a fruit basket from her backpack, and without any warning, threw a bright red apple to Stan. The red clashed with the white setting of the entire house, as did Trina's Split paint job. Stan flinched, letting the apple fly past him and roll onto the floor.

      "I've never tried an apple before," he said hesitantly.

      "I'm not surprised," Trina said, passing him a banana. "Here, try that."

      Stan stared at the banana peculiarly, then looked back up to Trina. "I'm not sure I want to eat it, I mean, I always eat oatmeal and breakfast should have ended already, I mean, it would have if you hadn't interrupted it...."

      "Just take a bite. You won't regret it," Trina told him as she put the fruit basket into the oatmeal cabinet, and picked up her green backpack once more. She put her paws on her hips and gave the Hissi an expectant look.

      "I don't like trying new things," Stan said defensively.

      "Do you want to be happy or not?"

      "I am happy."

      "Are you?" Trina raised an eyebrow.

      Stan looked at her with a confused expression, then gave the banana a distrustful look. "I'm not going to eat it right now. It's not breakfast time anymore."

      Trina looked exasperated already, but quickly shook it off of her face and replaced it with a grin. "Change isn't a bad thing, you know," she said simply, and trotted out of the kitchen. Stan looked around the room; seeing all of his oatmeal boxes on the floor touched something deep down inside of him. But it wasn't a doleful feeling - he didn't feel sad at all that Trina had emptied out the cabinet and put in a basket of fruit instead, but he didn't know how he felt exactly. He shrugged it off and left the kitchen without picking up the oatmeal boxes or the apple lying on the ground, keeping his banana clutched tightly in one wing.

      The Poogle wasn't in the entrance hallway, so Stan slithered over to his room worriedly, and saw her sitting on top of his plain white bed. The green backpack was resting against the wall, and the four buckets of paint were next to it. Trina grinned, hopped off of the bed, and picked up a bucket of red paint without a word.

      "Hey! What are you going to do with that?" Stan asked sternly.

      "This room - well, your entire house - is void of color. That definitely needs to be changed," Trina said, chuckling.

      "No way, white is a very good color and-"

      The Hissi ceased to speak when Trina abruptly splashed some red paint onto his room's wall. It dripped down a bit, and looked splotchy and ugly to Stan at first, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to tell her to stop. Maybe it was the fact that she was making things different that kept him from speaking up...he shook his head again at this thought, and stood still as Trina began splotching more red paint all over the room.

      "Now for some blue," Trina sang happily, placing the red paint bucket down and picking up the blue one. She dipped her paw into the bucket, and began dabbing blue paint in the white spots of wall. Stan looked around at the new, colorful wall, and smiled for a moment. He still didn't know what to think of these sudden changes...but he didn't hate them.

      Trina continued to splash paint upon his walls, until blotches of green and orange had been added to the mix. The room's walls were now far from white, and Stan's bed covers were stained with the paint. Trina heaved a sigh, and plopped onto the colorful bed. "See, Stan? This is better than plain white every day," the Poogle assured him.

      Stan, who couldn't bring himself to frown, opened his mouth to speak. No words came out at first, and he searched for something to say, but found nothing. He looked confused and understanding at the same time. He didn't exactly want Trina to change anything, but he knew now that he didn't want to go back to the way he had been living either. So instead of saying anything, he unfolded his wing and abruptly pulled the banana up to his mouth. Trina watched him in anticipating silence.

      Stan glanced down at the fruit, and murmured, "I've...I've never eaten anything besides oatmeal in my life." He realized at that moment that he hadn't really been what most would call living - he had simply been doing what was necessary to get him through his days, but he had never noticed how much fun he could have if he acted more spontaneous once in a while.

      "Go ahead," Trina urged. "Try the banana. This'll be the next step in adding happiness to your life."

      Stan smiled, and abruptly took a big bite out of the banana without peeling it. He chewed on it with a sour look on his face, but then he was quickly overcome with a new sensation in his taste buds. Feeling giddy, he quickly finished up the rest of the fruit and Trina stared at him in satisfaction.

      Who ever knew food besides oatmeal could taste so good?

The End

 
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