SBI - His Curse of Binding

19

Tommy had done many things throughout his lives, many immoral and challenging things (there was that one time he helped an old lady cross the road so that cancelled out any of his wrongdoings), yet he couldn't for the life of him figure out how to style this bandana.

He was on team Red Rabbits for MCC today and although he liked the red t-shirt with his name written on the back, the bandana confused him. He didn't know whether to wear it like a headband or tie it around his wrist to cover his tattoo. Either way, he couldn't tie it properly. He managed to survive wars—well, not survive but endure them until death—and this was what he struggled with.

It was embarrassing, humiliating even. Eventually, he decided to just wear it as a headband (the knot was still too tight).

He walked down into the kitchen and sat down. Wilbur was wearing red as well since they were on the same team—each MCC team had a person from year groups eight to thirteen. The Championships had over fifty teams, which was funny since there were normal-sounding teams like Red Rabbits or Pink Parrots, but then they ran out of colours so some unlucky fuckers were stuck with Mustard Mammoths. He truly felt sorry for the people who had to buy a mustard coloured t-shirt; the school was very strict about having the correct shaded clothes. If it was too similar to yellow, he wouldn't be surprised if that kid turned up missing within a week.

"What the fuck is on your head?" Wilbur asked, pointing at Tommy's bandana. Tommy flipped him off, scowling at how Wilbur had his tied around his neck.

"I knotted it at least."

"You attempted to knot it," Wilbur corrected. "You've twisted your hair into for God's sake."

"Stop harassing me," he exclaimed, jerking backwards from Wilbur's hands, not letting the man touch his hair.

"I'm not harassing you—" Wilbur proceeded to say as he continued to get closer to him.

"Phil!" Tommy yelled. "Control your son!"

"If he's causing shit, he's not my son," Phil replied as he strolled into the kitchen, Techno closely behind him with a plate of scrambled eggs. Techno wore similar sports gear to his fencing outfit—he was one of the referees for MCC—whilst Phil was gowned in a red attire for support.

"I hate this family," Wilbur grumbled.

"There's the door," Techno said, causing Wilbur to throw a spoon at his chest.

Phil sighed as two of his sons fought across the table. "I regret being a father."

"You don't regret me though, do you?" Tommy asked, jokingly. But the doughy look Phil gave him wiped the humour away, a certain softness creased his eyes.

"You are this family's only achievement," Phil said. "I need to show you something before you eat."

Tommy trailed after him, leaving the other two fighting—Techno currently had Wilbur in a headlock.

They stopped in the corridor to Phil's office, in front of the same wall with the framed screenshot of a Minecraft house. He never noticed that there were three medals mounted on the walls before with pictures hung directly underneath each. He stepped forward, the golden medals looked more like coins; they had 'MCC' and a numbered season engraved on them.

"This is some cult shit," Tommy said.

Phil ruffled his hair teasingly. "Nope, these are our pride possessions. And if you win one today, it'll be put right next to Techno's."

Phil gestured to the latest framed coin; a picture of Techno with a golden crown and Wilbur and Phil beside him hung underneath it.

"What if I wanted to sell it on eBay?"