Sibling Rivalry

    It was perfect, hee, hee.  If there was such a thing as payback, this would surely be the end-all-be-all.  Charles had had it coming since he'd torched Evan's "Tickle Me Emo" doll.  It seemed he'd been feeling untouchable since he had taken on babysitting his younger brother whenever the folks went out for their weekly date night.

    "You're too old for this baby stuff," he'd concluded as he struck the match.

    There was something that still unsettled Evan about watching his fuzzy red pal kick and giggle as he burned to a cinder on the backyard patio.  "Stop.  That tickles, ha ha ha."

    Evan smiled to himself, congratulating his own cleverness.  He wasn't pretending to have come up with the idea-- he'd seen it countless times on saturday morning cartoons and old movies.  The genious was in the execution.  He rolled the rope between his sweaty fingers and looked toward the front door.  In his imagination, it had played out over and over, each time just as successfully (and just as hilarious).  A copious amount of slime meticulously concocted from mashed potatoes, ice water and green food coloring in a pail above the doorway...A rope attatched to it which ran along the wall to the floor, and ultimately, to Evan's eager hand.  Charles would come home, open up the door.  He would pause just long enough in order to pick up the note placed strategically on the landing before him, his name scrawled across the front.

    "HA!"  the note would say, "how's it feel to be humiliated?!"

    The sound of keys and the doorknob turning.  The door swung open and Evan hauled on the string.  Oh, my god!

    Mom stepped inside.  "Goodness, Charles, what's this note on the floor?"