Brodacious! A BroZone Oneshot Collection

The Tough Questions

A/N: Taking place before TBT :)

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Art was not Bruce's strongest suit.

Well, at least art in the pen-and-paper sense (or in this case, a stick and the sand underfoot from the beach). The only art that he had been good at creating was the kind that came out of his throat in a stunning, musical tune. It wasn't quite the same in the illustration department, though. Nevertheless, he tried his best at formulating the figures he was trying to depict. It wasn't for his sake that this drawing was being made. It was for the tall, giggling child who stood just behind him, snickering with each stroke he added to the creation.

"Daddy," she said, a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh, "is that supposed to be a dog?"

Bruce turned to look at her. Brenda was a cute little girl, resembling her mother much in appearance with her felt-like skin, striped body, and yarn-like hair. A little white flower adorned her hair just above the right ear, adding a little extra pizazz, though he had to crane his neck a little to actually see it well enough. Err... maybe NOT so little of a girl, he suddenly thought to himself, considering her actual size when next to him. Despite his daughter only being four years old, he was dwarfed greatly, though this was not unusual since she wasn't 100% Troll. Residents of Vacay Island were unique-looking creatures who were at least ten Trolls high and had thin arms and puppet-like features.

As a kid, Bruce had barely been able to depict a Troll in the silly doodles he'd made within the song-writing journal he had. So, trying to make an illustration of his Islander spouse and daughter's special features was certainly not coming out the best, either.

"No, darling. That's supposed to be Mommy. See?" He pointed out the figure in the drawing who was supposed to be his wife, Brandy.

Brenda cocked her head, pondering, looking at it this way and that, and ultimately giggling again. "Oh, okay, Daddy," she said in a way that was meant to say "Suuuure, I'll believe that dog-looking blob is Mommy."

"Oh, yeah?" Bruce said, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes playfully at her. "I'd like to see you try your hand at it."

His daughter immediately stopped laughing. He expected her to meekly step back and allow him to finish, knowing her child-like drawing would probably bear even less resemblance to her mother, but he was surprised when she stood straight up, plucked the stick from his hands and bent down over the sand with a chirpy "Okay, Daddy!" in response. Bruce watched with amusement as she started to draw, but soon that amusement shifted to awe the more she added. By the end of it, Brenda had drawn not only her mother, but Bruce and herself... and it looked photographic!

"Whoa..." he said, unable to help his jaw dropping a little. "Not bad, kid... not bad at all!" He stretched up to ruffle her hair, and she laughed sweetly. The purple-haired smiled at her and pointed at the drawing. "This is our family, right?"

Brenda beamed, proud of her work, and nodded. "Yep!" she chirped.

He grinned and bent down with the stick again. "Well, sweetie, pretty soon it's gonna look like this." He drew a little figurine next to her mother's, smaller than Brenda's but still bigger than his.

"Huh?" the girl was confused. "Who's that?" she asked, but instantly turned around and answered her own question with "Oooohh, Daddy! Are we getting a puppy?"

"What? No!" Bruce was unable to believe that his artistic vision didn't seem to be coming across the way he wanted once more.

"Awww..." Brenda slumped.