Everything you read in newspapers is absolutely true

[Tobias Blythe]

Tobias sat at the kitchen table, back pointedly to the living room and the no longer organized books. He'd only been reading the paper for a few minutes before stopping and staring at it in horror. "What the hell?"

[George Blythe]

George, who had been cheerfully re-organising the books his way, accompanied by a rather tuneless whistling, looked up. "Don't say that, Tobias, doesn't suit you. And it offends the frangi-pangi plants."

[Tobias Blythe]

"Hell," Tobias said again, purely to spite his father. "The paper's full of stupid lies."

[George Blythe]

"Ssshh!" George rushed into the kitchen, and checked over a plant that was indeed looking mildly distressed. "What's that? Nothing about the two who got into the basement, I hope?"

[Tobias Blythe]

"No," Tobias said, crumpling the paper up into a ball. "Nothing about them."

[George Blythe]

George observed the paper and raised an eyebrow. "That bad, eh?" He petted the frangi-pangi and turned to his son, briefly. "What is it, then?"

[Tobias Blythe]

Tobias slumped back in his chair, glaring at the ball that was the paper. "That interview one of the reporters did with me. It's a bunch of stupid lies."

[George Blythe]

George's face went through a rather wide range of expressions before it finally settled on shock- anger, hurt and confusion to name three. "Tobias?" He said, slowly, "didn't we talk about reporters before?"

[Tobias Blythe]

Tobias lept to his own defense. "It was ages ago, the same day as the power outage! I told you about it right after it happenned!"

[George Blythe]

George's face clouded over. "Oh. Right. Okay. You did. Erm. What did it say then?"

[Tobias Blythe]

Tobias jerked his head at the paper ball. "Read it yourself. Most of it's about how I'm crying over having to leave my non-existant dog Sparky in Riverport."

[George Blythe]

George read the paper, and snorted. "Serves you right, really. I did warn you about reporters. Where's Violet?"

[Tobias Blythe]

Tobias scowled at him. "How should I know?"

[George Blythe]

"Oh." George affected disinterest. "Right. Of course. You, er- Good Heavens!" George looked closely at the paper. "That's- that's us. Look." He pointed to the gossip section. "I wonder what they're trying to imply." He looked thoughtful.

[Tobias Blythe]

"That you're crazy?" Tobias suggested grumpily, not even glancing at the gossip.

[George Blythe]

George gave his son an odd look. "Yes, maybe. It has something about you and your young lady."

[Tobias Blythe]

"I'm helping her with math! That's it! We're not even friends!" Tobias burst out, voice getting louder until he was practically shouting.

[George Blythe]

"Ssshh!" George had leapt over to the side of the kitchen, and was air-embracing the plants that stood there, and looking down on them worriedly. "If you're going to shout, Tobias" George said, patiently. "I'd appreciate it if you'd go outside." He shot Toby a look. "And just so you know, I love you." He looked back down at the plants, who were blooming ever so slightly more. "It worked!"

[Tobias Blythe]

"I'm never going outside again," Tobias grumbled, glaring at the plants.

[George Blythe]

"Don't be so silly, Toby." George spoke in an almost ridiculously light-hearted tone. "How could you not go outside ever again? People would miss your sunny demeanor and friendly attitude." He shot Toby a look, however, that was less than sunny.

[Tobias Blythe]

"By never leaving the house. It'd be easy. You and the others manage it pretty well," Tobias shot back.

[George Blythe]

George frowned. "Less of those angry tones, Tobias" he hissed. " the frangi-pangi don't like it at all. And I do leave the house, you know I do. How else would I find fresh slugs for the frangi-pangi each morning? Or keep up to date with scientific discoveries." he paused for a second. "I suppose I could get them both delivered."

[Tobias Blythe]

"It's a plant. It doesn't have likes and dislikes," Tobias snapped.

[George Blythe]

George sighed, and cautiously picked up the plant, the pot of which was just bigger than the diameter of his arms. He took it, carefully, through to the sitting room, then returned to his son, slightly covered in dirt. "What do you know, Tobias? Now, do you want some food or something?"

[Tobias Blythe]

"We just ate," Tobias reminded him, crossing his arms and slumping down in his chair.

[George Blythe]

"Why are you hanging around, then? Go on, go do something."

[Tobias Blythe]

"There's nothing to do--Unless you want me to go back to reorganizing your books," Tobias added spitefully.

[George Blythe]

"Erm, no." George looked protective, suddenly. "Would you... go and get food? I mean, groceries, and things."

[Tobias Blythe]

Tobias glared at him. "I'm never going out again. Ever."

[George Blythe]

George crossed his arms. "Stalemate, then." He stared at his son for a few moments. "I shall go and continue to re-order the books, then. Tobias, don't let this get to you. People will have forgotten about it by next week anyway." George crossed the room, and soon the dull thump of bookstacking could be heard from the sitting room.