Fandom: Professor Layton
Word Count: 452
Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton. Or his top-hat of awesome.
Teaser: Young Luke has a tendency to sometimes take things a bit too literally.
It was one of those things that Luke had always heard growing up. One of those silly nursery rhymes that most children learned at an early age and kept hearing through most of their childhoods. Few children paid them too much mind after a certain age.
But Luke had not yet reached that certain age, and so nursery rhymes were still a very big part of his literature and his daily routine. He was still quite taken with them and the stories they told.
So when the Professor brought home a special dessert one night, he found himself curiously wondering if the words of that little nursery poem would hold true. So the moment the Professor’s back was turned, he struck like one of those mythical ninjas he had heard the Professor mention from books written about countries far, far away. They were supposed to be very sneaky.
…all right, Luke was not quite that sneaky, but he did manage to sneak the dessert away without the Professor noticing (not that that was much of a challenge, as the dessert in question had been left on the kitchen counter, and Layton was in his study) and get it all the way upstairs to his room.
Once there, he set it down on his desk. He then took the stool from his desk and pushed it over to the corner before reclaiming his prize and sitting on the stool with it in his lap. He studied it for a moment. Was this really going to work?
Well, only one way to find out!
And some time later, it was a very surprised Professor Layton who looked up from his work to find a very pouty apprentice standing in the doorway. Said pouty apprentice was covered in what looked like some sort of purple jelly, particularly on his hands.
“Luke, my boy, what in the world happened?” Layton asked, rising from his desk. Try as he might, he could not fathom any rational explanation as to what was all over Luke, nor could he come up with any idea as to how whatever the purple substance was had gotten there in the first place. But whatever the explanation behind this turned out to be, Layton was sure that it was going to be quite entertaining.
Such was life under the same roof as a young child.
Luke’s pout actually grew a little bit deeper, and he stamped his foot like the petulant little boy he was currently being. He crossed his arms, smearing the mess on his shirt even a little more. “Little Jack Horner was wrong,” he said in an angry voice. “There was no plum in that pie. Just a big mess.”