Funny Business

20251123

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

Marvin understood why corporate didn’t refuse service to trickster fey. The reasons started with “discrimination laws” and escalated to “really, really don’t want to offend them”. So instead he bitterly wished, at least four times a day, that the jokesters had never gotten a taste for human TV.
Not that all the programmes offered these days were human-produced, but still.
He climbed out of his van and took a moment to steel himself before opening the gate. They knew he was coming, so that was fine, no risk of defences going off… but just because they’d called him, and needed his help, didn’t mean-
SHWING!
The ear-slitting noise made him wince. The bright sparkles left him blinking wildly.
From somewhere nearby he could distinctly hear a not-quite-smothered titter.
Ugh.
“I must remind you that casting unauthorised magic against a member of staff violates your service agreement.” Marvin intoned with practiced resignation.
“Oh! We weren’t casting at you.” A tinkling voice assured him.
A small fairy was floating by his shoulder. With his vision covered in multicolour spots he couldn’t make out details, and given they were all shapeshifters it didn’t matter anyway.
“Sooo sorry!” The fey gushed, clasping their hands next to their chin. “Please be more careful! You should always watch your step!!”
“Right.” Marvin continued down the path.
As he passed between two ornamental bushes something suddenly fluttered within the foliage and he was blown off his feet - right into the other bush, which was thankfully not too prickly or itchy.
Ugggh.
“See, that’s what we were trying to catch.” The fey chirped. “Flutterbys are such pests!”
“Uh-huh.”
Perhaps they were telling the truth, perhaps not. Way back when he started this job he would’ve cared. Would’ve scrutinised them, tried questioning, been hyper-alert for traps…
But he’d quickly realised that turned the affair into a game. A game you were never, ever going to win. Oh, sure, sometimes you’d catch them out, even dodge or outwit their plans. Those felt like wins, until you noticed the fey were just as amused watching you dance to their tune as they were tripping you up.
While he wouldn’t say refusing to engage was easier, or even less unpleasant, he felt better about it. And he’d take what crumbs he could get.
So he picked himself up, dusted off the leaves, grimaced at the scratches, and continued towards the door.
The front mat let out a loud parp as he stepped on it. He didn’t twitch.
Pressing the doorbell produced a deafening gong which reverberated in his bones. He closed his eyes and sighed.
Then the door opened to reveal a larger fey, more elfin than fairy, holding a wriggling… wait, was that a baby? Goodness. He’d never seen a baby fey before. They were legendarily rare. Word was most of the wars which still happened in the fey realm were waged with the aim of claiming a child who’d been born. These had to be powerful folks.
No, he shouldn’t jump to conclusions - far more likely it’s an adult in disguise.
“Oh! You’re here to fix the signal?” The fey said hopefully.
“I am.” Marvin kept his tone brisk and neutral. “Marvin Carver. You should’ve been told to expect me.”
“Oh.” The fey peered at an untidy heap of papers next to the door, then shrugged. “Probably?”
Tsk. Typical scatter-brains. But of course you didn’t say that. Marvin tried not to even think it too loudly.
Instead he said “I’ll need to take a look at the unit. If I can’t find any problems there I’ll inspect the dish.”
“Right. Sure.” They waved him in.
It wasn’t the mess which stood out to Marvin - fey were pretty evenly split between being unable to stand any clutter and not seeming to notice any level of clutter (even if it required wading to traverse). Many of them seemed to jump between the two states according to some baffling rhythm.
No, it was the playpen which caught his eye. And the soft toys scattered about. And the changing table.
While this could be an elaborate bit… his wary gaze, now brightened with curiosity, turned towards the small fussing fey.
The… parent? Smiled apologetically. “Sorry. They’re a bit peaky at the moment. The only thing that calms them down is their shows, and of course then the TV acts up…”
“Bloody typical, eh?” Marvin gave a sympathetic grin. “Don’t worry, tyke, Ol’ Marv will have Bramble Bear Bumble dancing again in no time.”
The baby gurgled and waved their chubby little fists, apparently cheered by this news.
“You know…?” The parent blinked, then chuckled and ruefully mused. “Oh. Of course. You probably have children. Don’t you?”
“And they’ve got kids of their own.” Marvin crouched to inspect the error code on the unit. “I know BBB from looking after my grandkids at the weekends.”
“Huh.” The fey digesting this. Seemingly marvelling.
The idea of such close generations must be as strange to them as the idea of almost nobody having children was to him. It became tragic if most fey truly did want children but struggled to conceive. A necessary downside of immortality, apparently. But it still felt tragic.
He brushed that aside and focused on his work. Let’s see… no signal coming in. Was the cable unplugged? Seemed securely seated in the unit - ah. Other end felt like it was swinging very freely. Was it…
Pulling showed it wasn’t unplugged. It had been chewed in half.
“Ohhh.” The parent stared in loving resignation at their fussing sprog. “No wonder you didn’t want lunch! Your poor mouth.”
“Yep.” Marvin shook his head and swiftly removed the ruined cable. Replacing it was the work of moments, and when he flicked the switch… “Bingo!”
The baby cheered and was set down to watch dancing bears. Marvin waved off effusive thanks and headed out, a spring in his step - right until a paving slab spun and tipped him on his face.
Ugh. Right.
“Veeeery funny…”

Prompt was “Write a short story from the perspective of a character who is jaded.”