Short's Part 2
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Bharat needed his morning coffee. He needed it very badly. He had not slept the night before, staying up all night trying to complete a painting. There were many, many days, too many to count, when Ram had to physically lift Bharat and put him in bed, locking his doors and windows and stationing ten guards under each window and door.
But there was no getting around the fact that, if Bharat did not receive his morning coffee, the kingdom might find themselves one or two (or in extreme cases three) princes, and a few hundred soldiers and dasis short.
And it was such a morning. Bharat was wearing the T-Shirt that Shartughan had gotten specially stitched for him, reading 'Do Not Decaffeinate, May Decapacitate. Although it was not that he had any choice. 'Stupid Shatru' he cursed, as he walked, no scratch that, stomped his way through the hallways, as dasis, soldiers and brothers fled at the sight of him. 'Why did that little- why did he have to throw all my clothes into a freaking puddle?! He is my biggest Shatru. Wonder what Vasishta Ji was thinking when he named him. He's supposed to be a shatru to his shatrus; not us!'
Yeah, that was basically his thoughts. There were much deeper, darker thoughts of how to decapacitate Shatrughan; hidden below the caffeine-deprived-emotions. I won't scare you with them though. Yeah, our painter is much evil than we thought.
'Sir, you coffee' said a tiny, timid dasi, holding out a cup to Bharat. She looked a bit too much like Shatrughan, but Bharat was too angry to notice. He grabbed the coffee, and failing to notice the dais's grin, took a long gulp and... (Wait for it)
Immediately spat it out, onto his father's portrait.
It was fine. Well, mostly. Except he now looked like he had poop for a face.
Oops?
'What the- sand? Shatru get back here!' Bharat yelled, flinging the cup out of the window, with this time nearly hit the real Dashrath. Their father sighed, not even batting an eyelid when the cup landed next to him. He was used to this. When he heard Bharat's angry voice. 'Another coffee prank?' he thought, mentally resigning himself to a long day of death glares, arguments and shouting's.
Meanwhile, Bharat chased Sharughan to the kitchen, and managing to snag his wig. He tripped across a rope and - wait a rope? In the kitchen? - a pot - no a cauldron - of coffee fell on Bharat.
Bharat swelled like a bullfrog.
And then it happened.
It started.
Shatrughan ran.
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I won't scare you with the rest of the gory details but the day ended with a vanilla-cream-mixed-with-permeant-dye-and scrubbing-his-father's-portrait Sharughan, a coffee-deprived-angrier-than-a-bull Bharat, a shaking-his-head-in-disappointment-but-trying-not-to-laugh Ram, and a not-bothered-by-deatils-but-cleary-amused-who-went-back-to-sword-fighting-and-archery-in-the-next-second Lakshman.
Moral of the story : Never deprive Bharat of coffee. And NEVER EVER do what Shatrughan did. If you're not a relative, you will be in heaven (its because his father and eldest brother were watching him very closely he did not do that to Shatrughan. But to say the least Shatrughan woke up covered in blue-yellow stipes, a face with a shade of brown with looked like something waste removed from the body, and bright red hair.
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A/N: Two updates in a day, when no updates in two months? Have I been possessed?
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The Unbreakable Bond Of The Brothers (One-Shots)
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