Deviants Day Off {F}

The room looked like a caffeine-fueled tornado had decided to redecorate with rejected plot bunnies. Papers littered every surface, forming precarious towers threatening to topple at the slightest breeze. Empty coffee mugs, each stained with the ghost of past ideas, huddled together like a support group for overworked writers. At the center of this controlled chaos sat Deviant, a figure of casual malevolence, sporting a t-shirt that read, "I Write Your Pain."

Deviant leaned back in his chair, a smug grin playing on his lips. "Alright, world, let's talk about Caleb Ryder. My favorite punching bag of average handsomeness and polite demeanor. You see, I've been a bit… focused on his romantic life lately. The tangled web of will-they-won't-they with, what was it, three different people at once? Yeah, enough of that. It's time I explored his comedic potential."

He picked up a coin, a shiny thing with the words "Embarrassment" on one side and "Utter Humiliation" on the other. "So, coin flip for the method of mayhem. Heads, he trips over a banana peel. Tails, he accidentally serenades a pigeon. Or…" he paused, scrutinizing the coin, "…the coin stands straight up. Huh."

Deviant's eyes widened. "That's… unexpected. It's like the universe is screaming, 'Go big or go home!' I'll go big then. Let's make this a day of pure, unadulterated ridiculousness!"

---

Caleb, a young man who could blend into any crowd, pushed open the door to "The Daily Grind," a local café known for its overpriced lattes and questionable pastries. Deviant's disembodied voice, a narrator no one else could hear, boomed in Caleb's brain, "Behold! Our protagonist, weary from his valiant battle against pixelated monsters, enters the sanctuary of weak Wi-Fi and even weaker coffee."

Caleb sighed, completely oblivious to the omniscient commentary. "Ugh," he muttered to himself, "why do I feel like today's going to be a disaster?"

As he stepped inside, the door, previously cooperative, seemed to turn traitor. It stuck for a brief second, then sprang open with excessive force. Caleb, caught off guard, stumbled forward, his arms flailing, and tripped directly over a bright yellow "Wet Floor" sign.

The barista, a young lady with a nametag that read "Brenda, Not Your Average Coffee Sling," raised an eyebrow. "You okay there?"

Caleb, dusting himself off, managed a weak smile. "Yeah, totally fine. Just… uh… testing the structural integrity of the floor."

Deviant cackled gleefully. "Magnificent. The grace of a newborn giraffe. A solid 10 out of 10 landing."

---

Just as Caleb was regaining his composure, a whirlwind of chaos burst through the door. It was Samuel, his usually meticulously styled hair slightly askew, balancing a precariously tall stack of donuts on a serving tray. They were clearly a collection of ill gotten goods.

"Fear not, caffeine-deprived mortals!" Samuel announced, striking a dramatic pose. "Your comedic savior has arrived, bearing gifts of dubious origin!"

Caleb stared, dumbfounded. "Did you... did you steal those donuts?"

Samuel winked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Borrowing is such an ugly word. Let's call it 'indefinite acquisition'."

Deviant applauded, clearly delighted. "This guy's pure gold. A walking, talking manifestation of chaos. I should write more parts for Samuel."

As proof of this, Samuel, trying to impress with his juggling skills, tossed a donut in the air and accidentally smacked it directly into Caleb's face. Powdered sugar exploded everywhere.

Caleb, wiping a glaze of icing from his eyelid, said in a monotone voice, "You know, the circus auditions were last week, weren't they? Missed your chance."

Samuel shrugged, unfazed. "Hey, that's on you for having a face in my donut's trajectory."

---

Deviant, bored with mere physical comedy, decided to add some spice to the proceedings. With a flick of his metaphorical pen, he altered small details all around the café. Caleb's chair began to wobble ominously, Samuel's shoelaces were now inexplicably tied together, and Ryan, who had just entered, looked utterly bewildered as he took a sip of his latte.

"Ugh," Ryan complained, making the face one might when they have drunk rotten milk, "why does this taste like someone whispered the word sadness into it?"

Deviant, cackling to himself, replied in his mind "Mwahaha, caffeine withdraw begins now. You're trapped in this dark humor, buddy!"

Caleb noticed something odd. A message scrawled onto his napkin. "From Deviant: Good luck surviving this chapter."

Caleb whispered, bewildered. "Why is this napkin threatening me?"

---

The café door swung open again, this time revealing Lana and Lila, the Bennett twins. The awkwardness jumped up to an 11. Each time Caleb began to speak to anyone, his coffee cup would suddenly tip and spill. Samuel kept calling the twins the "Dynamic Duo," earning glares that could melt steel.

Lila, always the more direct of the two, sighed. "Why are you like this, Samuel?"

Lana, ever reserved, simply glared at Samuel and mumbled, "Because Deviant is making this happen, isn't he. Blame him."

Deviant rubbed his hands with glee. "Oh, this group is a treasure trove of comedic potential. The subtle jabs, the escalating chaos. Beautiful."

Trying to impress Lila on a more personal level, Caleb attempted to say something witty. He took a breath, opened his mouth, and sneezed, spraying the table with spittle.

Lila offered him a tissue. "Bless you."

Caleb, his face a mask of humiliation, managed a weak, sniffling reply. "That was… intentional."

Deviant's laughter echoed in Caleb's head. "Nope. That was me. You're welcome, my unwitting comedian."

---

As the group prepared to leave, Deviant decided to provide a dramatic send-off. His voice, now booming like a movie trailer narrator, filled Caleb's head "And thus, our heroes venture forth, unaware of the chaos yet to come! The battle has been won but the war is far from over."

Caleb paused, a strange urge taking him over. He half joked, speaking out loud, hoping the omniscient voice could hear it. "Can you at least make me taller? Is that too much to ask?"

Deviant chuckled, the sound reverberating in Caleb's very skull "Nah. Short kings are in now. You're a trend setter, bud."