Abernathy’s Laundry Disaster
Seren stood at the door, her satchel slung over her shoulder, a mix of apprehension and amusement dancing across her face. “Abernathy, remember,” she said, her voice stern yet laced with affection, “no mishaps while I’m gone. And please, for the love of Myrddin, keep Gah-whine and Purse-sniffle away from the washing machine.”
A roguish grin spread across Abernathy’s face like warm honey. His tail flicked behind him, invisible in his human form, filled with the mischievous energy of a feline eyeing a fishbowl. “My love, relax! I’ve got this!” Confidence oozed from his voice like syrup. “It’s just a few loads of laundry. What could possibly go awry?”
Famous last words.
As soon as Seren’s silhouette vanished from view, a mountain of soiled garments, towels, and bedding confronted Abernathy, taunting him with its sheer magnitude. Flanking him on either side were his cousins, Gah-whine and Purse-sniffle, their eyes gleaming like children ogling a candy store display.
Abernathy clapped his hands together with gusto, the sound reverberating through the laundry room. “Alright, gentlemen, let’s show these stains who’s in charge!”
Exchanging a mischievous glance, Gah-whine and Purse-sniffle grinned from ear to ear. With a flourish, Gah-whine whipped out his phone and launched Blabfix, his eyes sparkling with the intensity of a thousand analytics graphs.
“Greetings, viewers! Abernathy is about to tackle the laundry!” His words were punctuated by an exaggerated wink that could have charmed the stripes off a tiger. “And guess what he uttered?” Letting the suspense linger, he paused before looming into the camera, his face filling the screen. “What could possibly go awry? We’re about to find out!”
Abernathy’s eyes narrowed, his voice tinged with the resignation of a man battling a losing war. “Gah-whine, is this really necessary?”
But Gah-whine’s grin only widened as he perched his phone on a high shelf, a silent witness to the impending spectacle. “But Abby, our fans need us,” he said, with the sincerity of a politician’s promise.
The trio set to work, sorting colours from whites with the finesse of a circus performer attempting to juggle eels. Seized by a moment of brilliance, Purse-sniffle dumped an entire box of detergent into the washing machine, his reasoning as sturdy as a house of cards in a hurricane. “More soap equals cleaner clothes, right?” He had the confidence of someone who had never encountered laundry in their life.
Not to be outdone, Gah-whine discovered a bottle of “Enhance” tucked away in Seren’s potion cabinet. The shimmering liquid promised untold wonders. “Eureka!” He held the bottle aloft, triumph filling his voice. “This will give our wash a boost!”
Purse-sniffle shifted uneasily. “I don’t know, brother. Seren threatened to trim our claws if we raided her cabinet again.”
But Gah-whine’s grin only grew. “Worry not, Purcy. We’re doing this for Seren. She’ll be thrilled with us.”
Abernathy remained blissfully unaware of the brewing chaos behind him, his attention consumed by Seren’s crystal cat collection. Only when the washing machine began to rumble and shake, bubbles and suds spewing from its depths like a rabid creature, did he whirl around for realisation to strike him like a thunderbolt.
“Take cover!” Panic filled Abernathy’s voice as he sprinted into the living room, diving behind the sofa with the grace of a startled giraffe. A tidal wave of iridescent bubbles surged through the house, engulfing everything in its path.
Eyes wide with a mix of terror and glee, Gah-whine and Purse-sniffle clung to each other. They hopped onto the kitchen table as it rocked with the force of the water. Then they were off, riding the frothy wave. As they zoomed past Abernathy, they yanked him along, pulling him onto their makeshift surfboard.
The water burst through the front door like an overzealous party crasher, flooding the streets of Cardiff. A gathering of Cardiffians, armed with phones and a surprising lack of umbrellas, cheered on the trio with the fervour usually reserved for rugby matches. A drenched Abernathy, Gah-whine, and Purse-sniffle waved at the cameras wearing expressions that were a blend of embarrassment and pride.
***
Armed with mops, buckets, and fierce determination, the trio battled against the remnants of the sudsy onslaught, desperate to set things right before Seren returned. Abernathy stood inside the chaos, marvelling at the absurdity of it all—a dragon with a destiny of guarding an ancient grimoire, defeated by a bit of laundry and his cousins’ good intentions. Almost as if he could hear the grimoire’s mocking laughter echoing in his mind, its voice as smug as a cat who had just caught a particularly juicy canary. Actually, no, he really could hear it coming from the pocket dimension. Wincing, his hopes of Grimmy sleeping through this shattered.
Just as they were about to admit defeat and start rehearsing their apologies, the front door swung open. Seren stood there, wide-eyed, taking in the scene of chaos. Her expression was a mixture of shock and amusement.
“I can explain!” Abernathy’s words tumbled out in a jumble of excuses and half-truths, his voice as panicked as a student who had just realised they had slept through their final exam.
But Seren shook her head. With a wave of her hand and a muttered incantation, the kitchen shimmered and shifted. The suds vanished, and the rogue garments disappeared into neat piles of unsorted laundry, their spell quelled as quickly as it had begun. The room was exactly as she’d left it.
“What would you three do without me?” Affection sparkled in Seren’s eyes as she teased them, her voice filled with love.
Abernathy’s eyes widened, wonder filling his voice. “That’s next-level magic. How did you manage that?”
Seren’s smile grew, pride tingeing her voice. “It’s a reset spell. It took me a month, but I knew it would come in handy when I saw it in Grimmy.” She picked up some whites.
“Right, let’s do the laundry properly this time!”