Maybe it was petty. Sometimes you still clung to the excuse that you were technically only three years old, even though you really did know better. But hey, it wasn’t you who started this fight.
No, you were just gonna be the one to finish it.
Twenty minutes and two cans of spray paint later, and you were quietly transportalizing out of Bridhe’s house. You felt a little sorry for Andy’s sake; god knows he did nothing to deserve a living roomful of ten foot tall, neon purple cocks. But it had to be done, and collateral damage was inevitable in this kind of situation. You just hoped the burning fleece smell would be enough to wake him before the flames in the center of the floor spread too far.
Maybe next time Bridhe would reconsider before swapping out your Rilakkuma kigu with a fucking Hello Kitty as a joke.